Shiro the Sensual Samurai

Idling inside a simple inn, the woman in a traditional kimono sipped down her sake and thought. The female samurai had hair of a peculiar shade of reddish blonde, nearly a shade of pink in the sunlight. What showed beneath her robes was all toned and lean, athletic muscle, honed from her life of hardship and blodoshed. On the other hand, her face bore elegantly sharp features (gently accented with some light makeup), her bust was the envy of many other women, and she aimed bright, knowing green eyes at her targets. Her inviting features often led eyes away from the katana she kept on her hip, tucked back as best she could afford in her robes.
Masterless, she traveled the land as a ronin, taking whatever work she could find, and there were plenty in these troubled times. Monsters and bandits and tyranny were abound in this age, so she had no shortage of work.

She was known only as Shiro, and she was sure her parents had given her a boy’s name for a reason, several of which she could guess at. Not the least of which, she considered, was her taste for women. They seemed far more delicate and wanting than men, so unlike her rough and disciplined life.
But, regarding her plentiful workload, she regarded the options she had before her. A village not far off had asked for her to rescue some of theirs who had been kidnapped by bandits, though they had little to offer in terms of payment. Shiro already considered several ideas of how, and the moral path was inviting.
She also had the choice to simply stay and enjoy her food and drink some more, and perhaps some of the servant girls the inn had to offer. There was also sure to be work around here, nobles seeking bodyguards or even an , should it need be. She considered herself honorable, but the money had to come from somewhere. She wasn’t truly short on money, but she didn’t want to have to wind up selling her body in the less honorable way…

She smiled calmly as she saw her wisest path.