Somewhere in the high risen foothills between the Kitayama and the Nishiyama mountains, Niitsu Kakunoshin lived.
He was a rather seemingly young man. His looks defied his true age. But his aura gave him away as a wise and worldly sage. He lived in a large handmade hut on a shrouded ledge overlooking the city of Kyoto. Although he was unassuming and calm, his rather large physical exterior and self-righteous grimace belied his true nature, that of a kind caring man, who had once raised an orphan as his own.
But rarely would anyone dare venture to his sanctum. He would trudge down to the city and his pots and pans sold out immediately. No one stopped to chat with him. He was one scary hermit. With a talent for making sturdy pots. The housewives of Kyoto used to vent out their frustrations by smashing pots and other vessels. And this reclusive hermit made quite a living as a potter, most of which was used for his love of sake.
But that was not really who he was. His real name, even he himself had forgotten. Not due to delirious senility but as a sign of his loyalty to his art. His name now, was the mantle he carried. He was "Hiko Seijuro Jusandai" Master of the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu.