Standing 6’2", Black Hair, and Brown eyes. wearing a Kimono, Hakama, Sandals, and a straw conical shaped hat. Carrying his Katana in its deep blue scabbard slung over his shoulder, and a Shoulder bag slung across his chest.
Born in the year 4495, under a waning moon, to a weapon smith renown with his his small castle. Surrounded by the extensive family that lived there, Juro Takumi was named for his position in a line of superior craftsmen. Starting at the young age of 7, Juro began watching, and helping his father in his forge. Also at that age he began his training in the arts of hand to hand combat. In the evenings he relished the enjoyment of watching his father, Brothers, and Uncles train in their weapons. Each day brought some form of new knowledge to him, and he enjoyed learning, and soaking up all that he was taught. On day that he was not working, or training Juro would sometimes sit and stare at the unmatched workmanship of his Great Great Grandfather. This Katana, was crafted well back into the ages of man. The swords crafter spent many moons working on this blade, perfecting it’s every grain of the finest steel, and iron. Upon the blades completion, it was brought to the Temple there on the ground of the families small Fortress. That night, under a new moon the priest felt something very unique about the blade. Foreseeing in a premonition that this blade would one day bring a calm to the storm across the land. The Priest named the sword Peace, and returned it to his family. The Priest told the Smith the significances of the blade, and what he had foreseen. The swords crafter that very night of the blades naming, spent hours etching the Kanji of the blades name into the blade itself just above the guard. The Scabbard was also crafted from the finest materials, dyed in a deep Blue, and inscribed with three apple blossom flowers, a symbol of peace. The scabbard was then polished, and lacquered. The swords pommel was wrapped in a cord that was dyed the same color as the scabbard. The story of the blade has been told over again to each generation, as well as the many battles the blade was victorious. Through the many years of use the blade had seen under the orders of the Shogunate, it had finally found a resting place in Juro’s family home having been passed down from generation to generation.
By the time Juro had reached the age of 9, his prowess in hand to hand combat had surpassed even those a few years older than he. His skill with a blade was just as equal. Around late Fall, during a Harvest celebration on the family grounds, Juro’s family had come under attack by a rival clan. The clan had become jealous of the Takumi Clan, as the Takumi clan was the only clan the Shogun excepted weapons from. The Takumi clan made weapons for all the Samurai, lords, and all of the warriors that the Shogun controlled. That night, the joyous occasion turned into a blood bath. Catching the Takumi clan off guard they were able to slaughter everyone, and thing that moved. Juro had fought just as bravely as the rest of his clan, but when he rushed into his families house to secure a weapon it had collapsed on him. When the battle was over, and the attacking clan had left, every structure had been destroyed, or burnt down. Juro had managed to escape in the breaking of dawn. taking with him the only thing he managed to grab a hold before his home had collapsed. Creeping off into the wood line, and making his way, far away from what was his home, Juro had escaped with Peace; his family Heirloom, and only piece of history to remind him of his Clan.
For only a few months, staving of hunger, and the chilling bite of the nights cold, Juro managed to find himself a home. Juro, had found a small monastery in the forest of Kavus. There he was taken in by the monks who lived there. Five years, Juro lived there at the monastery, learning all he could learn, and working just as hard with the monks. During his time spent at the monastery, Juro had continued his Martial arts techniques, and learned the more finer art of the sword. After achieving much under the tutelage of the monks, Juro left to wander, and see more of the world. Juro had changed his name the day he left the monastery, the monks, and its protection. From that day forth Juro was known as Sasurai-Bito, the wanderer with no home.
Sasurai first headed East in the direction of Aval, traveling through the lands of Sob-Rooz, and Yazd. Traveling various roads, staying to various villages performing any task that might get him a roof for the night, or something to fill his belly, Sasurai made his way through life. Defending himself when necessary peaceably when possible, and only taking a life when there was no other recourse.