By midnight, the "Silent Shadow" was the soul of the party. He wasn't just drinking; he was using his mastery of physics and agility to perform death-defying stunts on the rafters for tips. When a group of local thugs tried to shake down the barkeep, Hanzo didn't slip a needle into their necks from the dark. He stood on a table, shouted a battle cry that rattled the windows, and used a decorative fire-poker to dismantle their armor in broad daylight.
As the sun rose, a young girl approached him. She was carrying a flyer for a quest to slay a Necromancer in the Whispering Woods—a job Alaric’s party had already refused because it was "too messy" and "bad for their image." "Are you a hero?" she asked. By midnight, the "Silent Shadow" was the soul of the party
He walked toward the busiest tavern in the city, The Gilded Flagon . Usually, he would enter through the roof. This time, he kicked the front doors open. The music stopped. The drunken patrons stared at the masked man in dark gear. He stood on a table, shouted a battle
"Fine," Hanzo whispered, his voice raspy from years of forced silence. "No more shadows." He walked toward the busiest tavern in the
He reached into his vest and pulled out a small, jagged obsidian dagger—a tool of the trade. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he tossed it into the gutter.
He realized then that being a "ninja" was a job, but being unseen was a choice.