Issun-bōshi

The new recruits crowd around the table to lean over Issun. The little fellow, no taller than a thumb, stares them down proudly with his hands on his hips. Some of them openly mock his size, not stifling their laughter one bit, as well as the tiny sword that Tinker Bell forged for him, no longer than a toothpick. They can jeer all they want, but they'll find out soon enough how tough he really is. Issun is used to being looked down on and being taunted. And having discussed it with him, I know it doesn't faze him anymore. Year after year, the newbies underestimate him, and year after year, they come up short against the little man, who is worth any twenty of them combined. He climbs up on top of a wooden cup and starts shouting through his megaphone to be heard by the young students, most of whom are still kids.

What they don't realize is how hard it is to fight such a small opponent. To them, he's just a little munchkin they can flatten with their hand like a common fly. Or so they assume. He's fast, moving as quickly as a tiger beetle. He's also strong, with the ability to jump several yards from a standstill. And if he manages to crawl inside your clothing or the hollow of your ear, say hello to severe injury. I've seen Issun subdue giants and defeat mastodons. One time, I even acted as a delivery vehicle for him to sneak onto a Fagn abomination. There's a clear lesson in all this, of course: Never underestimate even the most insignificant opponent. And those recruits are about to learn that the hard way.