Très bien, je serai de retour avec le reste du groupe, a-t-elle dit avant de donner une pat douce à Epona. En tournant, elle y laissa son pied à la grotte avec Derrix et commença à marcher vers la route principale; en voyant qu'Epona pouvait se reposer de la porter presque toute la journée. Levant le ciel, elle soupirait légèrement, ce serait une longue et triste soirée, mais j'espère que le matin apportera une journée plus brillante à de nombreux niveaux. Tirant le capot de son manteau vers le haut, elle a jeté des brins d'or en dessous. Le tonnerre roulait à travers la campagne alors qu'elle pressait à travers la forêt, sur le chemin qui menait à la route principale. Le vent fouettant à travers les feuilles comme l'air froid a été ramené de l'atmosphère au sol en dessous; un frisson courant à travers les sens de Sanas alors qu'elle tirait son manteau serré autour de sa forme.
Alors qu'elle atteignait la route qu'elle regardait, ce serait quelque temps avant que la partie principale du groupe ne les rattrapât. En regardant vers un arbre, elle a placé un pied devant l'autre; faire un sprint rapide avant qu'elle saute; doigts atteignant et enveloppant autour du membre inférieur d'un érable, son corps arqué pour la tirer autour et en haut. Relâcher sa prise, elle atterrit doucement sur la branche, le mouvement des feuilles est inconcevable en raison des vents qui les traversent déjà. Glissant dans le tronc de l'arbre, elle s'est reposée sur la branche, laissant une jambe s'allonger librement pendant qu'elle s'asseyait là et s'est penchée pour se mettre à l'aise. C'était aussi bien un endroit que n'importe qui pour surveiller, lui permettant une vue claire de la route sans exposer sa propre présence.
Reposant sa tête en arrière, elle regarda la route; le vent fit monter la poussière du sentier pendant que la tempête roulait. Une profonde respiration et elle pouvait goûter à la pluie qui venait d'arriver; il serait là avant que le reste du groupe n'arrive à moins qu'ils ne hâtent leur rythme. Sana a utilisé ce temps seul pour penser au jour passé et aux événements qui se sont produits, essayant de trouver où sa vie irait d'ici. Elle savait peu importe combien elle pensait sur le sujet qu'il ne changerait pas le chemin établi avant elle, mais un chemin aveugle fait pour les voyages tendus. Soupirant profondément que ses mains reposaient dans ses genoux, se cachant doucement avec la dentelle de son corset, elle espérait le meilleur mais se préparait au pire. Il n'y avait plus rien qu'elle puisse faire.
Name: Hanzo Jibero
Age: 26
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Race: Human
Class: Monk
Appearance/Clothing:

Skills:
Acrobatics
Survival
Historical & Religious Knowledge
Climbing & Swimming
Perception
Emotion Reading
Ki Manipulation
Martial Arts, Grappling, & Throwing
Natural Abilities: Has honed his body to its upper limits in durability and reflexes, and learned to how manipulate his Ki (spiritual energy); otherwise, he possesses no special abilities of note for a human.
Magic/Spells:
Ki Strike - A focused attack bolstered through Ki. Grants a chance for normal damage to penetrate armor and natural resistances. Can be charged for a slightly greater chance.
Ki Blast - Hanzo channels Ki into his hands to throw out a bolt of raw energy that travels a short distance. Functions as a basic magical attack with a chance to penetrate physical armor (akin to Ki Strike), but must be charged to yield the proper effect initially.
Ki Mending - A monk's own 'lay on hands' technique using Ki. Restores a bit of health and fights magical impurities.
Additional Information:
This monk hails from an old culture that bears worship to the spirit of nature, rather than any specific god. They bless the sun and the moon for giving them light, and the earth and its bounty for giving them life. A somewhat nomadic culture, these monks rarely established buildings or relics for anything beyond shelter, aiming to preserve nature as best as they could.
This culture took up martial arts and the art of Ki manipulation as a means of defensing oneself without resorting to weapons or lethality, and to hone one's body and spirit to its greatest potential. Life was simple and peaceful, yet active and fulfilling. They took what they needed from nature and kindly returned what they did not, blessing all creatures that lost their lives as fulfilling a greater purpose.
For Hanzo, this has since changed somewhat. Where he once could've wandered without ever getting lost, he now struggles to find a purpose in this new reality revealed to him. He has long since gotten over the culture shock of the developing world, however, and still finds himself traveling about, benefiting others where he sees fit. The wonder still remains, however, and the monk can't help but wish for a sign to reveal his own destiny.
Equipment: Hanzo possesses no weapons besides his fists, but does wear a small medium of protective gear: leather bracers on his forearms and legs, and a belt with magical properties that reinforces his natural durability.
Possessions: Something of a miser, Hanzo carries little gear or money on his person. He is always seens with his monk's clothing (see above), as well as a waterskin, a crest of his clan, and a ring of prayer beads. Should the need arise, the sash he wears can be improvised as a ten-foot rope.
Personality:
By nature, Hanzo is a respectful individual, treating others with kindness when he can see they deserve it. Through his experiences, however, the monk has learned to only really trust those he has discovered as righteous at heart, even if not always purely good. As such, he comes and goes in his travels, not often staying to maintain friendships but still holding them at heart. Getting to know Hanzo and sympathize with him can turn the monk into a faithful ally, even beyond an initial partnership.
As a result of his less fortunate experiences, Hanzo bears a stern sense of justice, and is quite willing to help others in desperate need (for better or worse, at times). He tends to be straightforward, but also cautious and logical - not below fighting others to reach a solution, but wise enough to seek an alternate method. As a part of his vowing of respect as a monk, Hanzo will never willingly kill a fellow human/elf/etc, but when pitted against the 'inhumane' (monstrous creatures and truly sinful individuals) he will not share that grace.
History:
Hanzo was born naturally within a nomadic tribe of monks. As a youth, he was eager to learn their ways and trained hard to better himself. He found himself fitting in well with the culture, benefiting greatly from its teachings and giving him a fairly fulfilling life, at the time.
Of course, some things have a tendency to change so very suddenly. As Hanzo's generation was beginning to reach their coming of adulthood, one girl was suddenly outcast from the monks in what had to be a first in their history. She had always been something of a quiet loner, but what put her off the edge was her possession and obsession with a unique steel knife abandoned in the forest. Though Hanzo was somewhat regretful of her suffering this fate, as he was one of the few people to show her kindness, he was ultimately made to pay it no mind.
Disaster struck, however, when but a few moons later, the girl returned in the accompany of a legion of violent warriors. She had discovered that the knife was of their craft, and immediately became absorbed into their vastly differing knowledge. When she weaved a tale of being isolated and betrayed by her primitive family and clan, the battle-bred warriors were empowered to aid her in revenge.
So began the crusade against Hanzo's clan, a long night of fire beneath a bloody moon. As fear and panic settled in, a still-young Hanzo was desperately urged to flee, even as family and friends alike were quickly slaughtered under the warriors' powerful weapons. Under the shadow of the forest, Hanzo managed to evade the clan's new enemies, and believed himself to be a solitary survivor. But while the fires still remained in sight, Hanzo was suddenly confronted by the girl, bloody knife in hand.
Though she had initially spared Hanzo for the kinship he had offered, the murderer claimed to have dicovered a new way of life, driven by a far more powerful emotion: wrath. Seeing the monk feel his own brand of wrath, she offered him another chance, to channel and release this rage the only way she knew how. Hanzo refused, deciding she had more than lost her mind, and attempted to fight her in his anger. Their tango was brief but brutal, put to a painful end when the murderer was knocked headfirst into a collapse of burning branches, blinding her.
He only regrets not having learned her name.
The time following was harsh to Hanzo, not because he could not survive but because he had nobody else to survive with. He was alone, his family, friends, and culture all mercilessly slaughtered. Hanzo's outlook changed - it had to, if he was going to truly live any longer. The monk began to wander the world again, a world that seemed to so vastly change overnight, as he passed through many towns, kingdoms, and nations. He would help others as he deemed without compensation, all the while hoping to find some new sense of purpose as she had.