Susubienko Glomska the Swift Stroke of Death, Drillmistress of Battle

Role

Chapter 11

"In service there is honor." So said the inscription on the Chrenzhvo family crest.
For over four hundred years, generations of Chrenzhvos lived and worked as the
trusted servants of the Archmage of the Tower of Sorcery, attending to her needs both
personal and professional. The first born of each generation was raised to know his or
her duty, stretching back to Chrenzhvo, the first of her ancestors, who journied thera
and was so captivated by the wonders of the High Tower that he pledged himself and his progeny
to its service. Not slaves, but willing servants, aides for all things, all matters.
There was little aptitude for magic in their line, as the fruitless attempts of generation
after generation of offspring tried and failed to learn what all the others around them
took for granted. But even so, there was a satisfaction and a dignity in faithful and
devoted service to such great and powerful beings.

Or so they thought. One day, Susubienko's father, the current servant of the Archmage,
fell and struck his head while organizing a closet in the Archmage's study. He remained there,
unconcious, for several hours. When he woke it was to the quiet talk of voices right outside.
It was the Archmage with his four lieutenants and the librarian, talking. As he was about to
announce his presence and excuse himself - and seek a balm for his throbbing head - he heard
his own name spoken. Curious, and feeling a bit guilty, he stood motionless and listened:
"Krystoff's daughter is coming of age, she will have to undergo the process soon," said the
Archmage. "I can do it this time, I enjoy it and it has been a while." The master necromancer.
"Very well." The Archmage. "Do you think she has the talent?" The master shifter. "Likely.
So far all of the women and perhaps half the men have had it" responded the Archmage. "Though
none has had anything that appeared too powerful, so it's no loss to us." The master invoker
chimed in "Even I am amazed how long we have managed to keep them in the dark, usually such
things find a way out. I would be devastated if they did though, that family has an almost
magical knack for getting gel stains out of my robes and putting the creases in just right."
Group laughter. "Yes, well, tomorrow, take the girl and burn away her burgeoning talent. We
will then have another of their short lifetime's worth of slave service. Maybe this one will
even look more human, without those ugly beaks. It is always so difficult to look past them
when I take them to bed, even if they are face down. Ah well, we shall see."
With that the master mages left, on to their business. Krystoff could barely stand. He
shook with anger, the massive, centuries long betrayal more than he could comprehend, let
alone accept. Thoughts raced through his mind, one after the other, elusive, ideas of violence,
acts of revenge, sadness, history, all a whirl of color and rage. One thought surged up stronger

Role

Chapter 10

than all others though. I must save Susubienko! And so he left as quietly as he could,
his headache all but forgotten. After the most difficult two hours of his life, with his
face schooled to show nothing out of the ordinary as he passed by mages and students all over
the Tower, he finally found her, helping the cook down on the first floor. "Come, you must come
with me now!" he hissed at her, trying to keep quiet but unable to keep the sheet terror out of
his voice. "What is it father?" "Just come with me, now!" He grabbed her arm and almost
dragged her with him as he raced out to their small quarters. Quickly he pulled out some clothes,
a bag, a few things, and threw them together. "Father, what is going on??" "You are leaving, and
you are leaving right now. No arguments!" "But Father..!" "No arguments I said! You will do
as I say!" Crying, she took the bag her father handed her, and followed him as he walked
toward the door. As he reached for the handle, it turned before his hand grasped it and
the door opened, admitting the Archmage and the Master of Conjuration. Eyeing Susubienko and
her bag, as well as the clear agitation on both their faces, the Archmage faced Krystoff and
said "Krystoff, what is amiss? Something troubles you?" Unsure what to do or say, Krystoff
stammered "No, yes, I mean no, I'm fine, nothing is wrong, I'm just seeing Susu off
as she goes to see the dressmaker in Galadon. Now, if you'll excuse me, sir, yes, thank you..."
"I see" replied the Archmage. "But you seem so upset. Perhaps we can help..." Snapping his fingers
at the Master of conjuration, he said "Do it." And before anyone could move, the conjurer
began a powerful spell, combining time and the clairaudience and clairvoyence magics.
A shriek escaped from Krystoff's throat as his mind was ripped open, his thoughts laid
bare. "Ahhhhh, so the cat is out of the bag" said the Archmage, after the spell's effects had
made it clear what Krystoff had heard. "All good things must come to an end I suppose."
Snapping his fingers again, this time at the cook who was peering in outside having followed
the Archmage after informing of Krystoff's strange actions, the Archmage had him summon some
of the higher transmuter students. Picking one, he had her disrupt Krystoff's nervous system,
rendering him rigid and unable to move. Susu, cowed with fear, could do nothing. Both were
taken to an enchanting room, one of the sealed rooms warded for heavy magics. "The curse?" asked
the necromancer master. "Yes" said the archmage. "But starting with the girl. The father must
be taught a more... powerful lesson." And in short order the mages were ready, Krystoff and
Susu tied and bound to the pedestal. "For you, Krystoff, as punishment for your temerity,
you will never again hear or see or smell or taste or touch. The world will be a void for
you, as indeed it is for all who do not know the taste of magic." Powerful chanting began,

Role

Chapter 9

as each master mage stepped up in turn and touched Krystoff, his eyes, his ears, his tongue, his
nose and the skin over his heart. At each interval Krystoff screamed, pain and anguish as
few ever know. When it was done he lay there, tears streaming from his eyes, panting, and his
words already beginning to show his loss of hearing. Students picked up the pitiful body
and carried him out. That was the last Susu ever saw of him. Turning to her, the Archmage said
"And you, you shall be our notice to all of Thera. Turn on us and you will know such misery
that few have ever endured. Upon you we shall lay our curse, and never shall it be gone from
you for too long, a reminder what your family has earned!" And with that the necromancer master
and the Archmage together joined in chanting and gesturing, as great light swirled over
her helpless form. After what felt like an eternity of fear and loathing, the light seemed
to seep into her flesh, down to her bones, her blood, with a great shock of pain. Her spine bucked,
her back arched as far as the bonds would allow, her body taut with the pain. And just like that, it
was gone. Sweat dripping from her body she was released. The Archmage gave her the bag
her father had given her, saying "There. Begone. This is no longer your home, and you are our
warning to all the rest. Go!" And so she did.

Having nowhere else to go, she went to the only place she had ever heard of, Galadon. She had
long known the pathways of the shadow grove, her veritable back yard, and the road through
the weald, while crumbling, was easy enough to follow, and after not too long she found herself
at the west gate of the largest city she had ever imagined, let alone seen. One of the elite guards,
impressive to her child eyes in his crips blue and white uniform, gave her directions to the
shops at the market and along the trade road. Wandering, she came to a dark alley where
a young man beckoned her over. Innocent and somewhat naive, Susu simply went to him, not
giving a thought to the danger. With a leer he grabbed her and started dragging her into
an abandoned house on the west side of the alley. Powerless to stop him she tried to scream
but he placed a hand over her mouth, and only a whimper emerged. She tried to free
herself but even at her best she had not the strength, certainly not after all she had recently
endured. She thought of her father and in her mind she apologized for not being stronger.
Just as she resigned herself to die, there was a slight rustling in the shadows. Quicker than
she could follow, a hand seemed to come out of nowhere, reaching out of the shadows, followed by
an arm, then a shoulder, then a body. The hand gripped a dagger, which in that same fluid motion
seemed to gently kiss the throat of the brigand holding her. Warm red blood splashed her face
and body, and the hands on her fell limply away, the body lifeless almost instantly. "You

Role

Chapter 8

should be more careful, lass. Galadon's not a safe place. And it's safer than most of the rest
the rest of Thera. Best to learn from the start to keep yourself alive."
With that he began to turn away, almost gone in the shadows. But something stopped him, perhaps
seeing her stand there motionless and silent, perhaps seeing her talons gripping the bag,
something. "Do you know anyone here, girl? And what's your name?" Numb, she answered "No. Susubienko."
"Didn't think so" he muttered to himself. Sighing, with a put upon expression on his face, he
told her "come with me. Let's see if we can set you up a bit better. Maybe you'll even survive
the week." Gently reaching out he took her hand and slowly took her across the alley.
Giving some sign to someone she couldn't see, he brought her inside a plain building
which lead to a bar and then to what looked like a gymnasium of some sorts, but with
weapons all around. Nodding at the man in the middle, her savior said "Hey, Pereira, think
you can make something of this one? Found her out in the alley about to be some punk's lunch."
Studying her with eyes that miss nothing, the Shinan Pereira eventually nodded, saying "Perhaps.
"Perhaps. But the real question is, do you, child, have the strength? Do you have the desire?
And do you have the mind to learn?" Pausing, thinking for the first time of anything besides
what had happened to her and her father, and feeling the sadness start to be replaced by
anger and a desire to strike back, she looked up and directly into his eyes. "Yes. Yes I do.
If you can teach me how to strike as he did" pointing at her savior "then I can learn it, and
I will fear nothing. I, will be feared. And no one" thinking no mage! "will hurt me again."
"You found a live one here, didn't you..." The two men nodded at eachother. "Very well" said the
Shinan. "Go back to the bar, tell them I sent you and they will set you up with a pallet and
some food. Your training starts tomorrow...

Role

Chapter 7

So sweet. Like velvet sugar wrapped in pure satisfaction. That was the taste of
her first mageslay. Eylia was the magefilth's name. Changed into some rodent, a marmot or
something. A fitting thing, a mage showing its true ratlike self. Did it no good though. And
it felt better than anything in her whole life, watching the light leave the eyes. The blood leak.
But what made it truly special, and what made the next kills as well, was that she did it
herself. Stalking, following, watching, hunting the prey. Hours and days of training
coming to fruition. Never again will she be weak as she was. Never again will she be duped by the
magefilth, listen to their lies, their words, their slaves. She will flaunt her curse, throw
it back in their faces, faces that will gasp with shock as their last breaths leave their frail
bodies. Thus, she does not speak to or listen to mages, ever. She hones herself inside and
out to be a thing of deadly beauty, something the mages will both fear and envy, as she hunts
them and their cronies. She will never again need to rely on someone, and never agail fail to
act when she can. She does not view it the same as some of her new comrades seem to, like
the drillmaster, as she would think nothing of depriving any mage of anything of value it
might have, simply to hurt the mage, to exact just that much more revenge on all of them.
In short, she will make herself as strong as the hardest mithril, adamantite, steel. She will not
break. She is somewhat broken in spirit perhaps, in that she does not play well with others
all the time, a result of her trauma. But it is not debilitating or overwhelming. Just something
that comes out sometimes. And she has no conception of honor as others call it. It's not
about that or that sort of thing. She fights her own fights because she saw what happens when you
can't take care of yourself. And she has enough pride now to want others to stay out of her way.
Her strength and knowledge grows, her path as the scout a testament to her desire and aptitude
at seeking out and finding out what must be learned. More to come...

Role

Chapter 6

A rare ocurrence happened this day. The Destructor spoke to the awake villagers.
At first it was what one might expect, a discussion of the war, individual beliefs, that
sort of thing. Mildly interesting to Susubienko, and worthwhile, but quickly paled in comparison
to the importance of what came next, both for action and for thought. The Destructor brought
up the past gods of the village, the ones who are gone, and asked if we remember them as
we remember those on the pillar or other villagers of the past. We, I really, gave names to
the past gods, and then the startling moment came: the destructor suggested that one or more
might be able to come back, to rejoin the village with us, but that it would need our mortal
hands to help if not do it entirely. The Destructor commented that it would be good to do
it because doing so would more entwine us in the foundations of Faith that founded the
village. And that's where she perhaps diverged from the Destructor. She put it this way,
that she's inspired by the past deeds and work of villagers, including the gods that once
watched over the village. But she's not moved by some faith or shaman's zeal. She's here,
fighting the war, because she seeks revenge. Out of hate, as she said to the Destructor.
She will pursue this task, this quest, because she thinks it will do three things. First, it will
be a good route to knowledge, a good path of study, so that she can better herself in mind
just as she does in body. Second, because she knows that having these gods back, or even
one, would make the war that much stronger against the magefilth. And finally, third, because
she is beginning to feel a sense of belonging in the village. Certainly not like family, she
is not ready (maybe never? who knows) to consider any but her dead father her family. But
whatever you call it, she is connected, and while she may not want to rely on others, they may
rely on her, because she is strong. She will never be weak again.

Role

Chapter 5

The nightmares, unfelt for years and believed done forever, have returned, worse now than
ever. Exacerbating the already painful experiences is a new element, a twist that
her mind has conjured from life around her. As before, visions of the unspeakable torture
her father was subjected to wash before her face, and as before in her nightmares, though not
in reality, her father looked right at her and begged her to save him, to end the torture.
He had done no such thing of course, but as with many childhood experiences, rational thought
means less than feeling, and she felt, and still feels, as though she failed him, failed
to rescue him when she should have. That as much as anything else, that weakness, drove her
to her new life. Drove her to her new WAY of life. But now, now there's more.

Now, her mind has added the events of the last weeks, the visions and words of a tormented
soul in horrible agony, depthless despair, and unlike her father, this time the begging for
a savior, her, is real. She is not a child anymore. She is a fighter, a killer, and strong
now both in body and moreso in spirit and mind. There are no excuses now. Her sleep is
often beset by these nightmares of failing the spirit, who she has firmly come to believe is
really a past lord of the village, one who if she had to guess sounded like.. felt like... Thror
Hammerhand. Raging at her, screaming that she's going to fail again, that she's worthless,
that she's unfit. That she's weak. She wakes up screaming sometimes.

As a result, combined with her already strong desire to learn the truth of what is going on, she
is compelled to do whatever she can so that this time, with this second chance, she will
not fail!

Role

Chapter 4

"You have to focus Susu. Focus! How many times do I have to tell you???"
Nobody but Shinan Pereira, her guildmaster, ever speaks to Susubienko that
way, or at least nobody who wants to keep their eyes in their head and their
blood on the inside. But her teacher long ago earned that right and she is not
one to easily forget such things. Even if she were, she wouldn't complain now
because Pereira's right. A few weeks ago he finally agreed to teach her
the beginning lessons on how to stalk her prey from the shadows and when
ready, to glide up unnoticed and with one stroke end the life of her enemy.
When she did it successfully for the first time, it was like an explosion
went off inside her. This is what she was meant for. But that initial flare
has tamped down. No less true, but cooled now by the experience of failure.
So many years she trained to fight in regular combat. All that training
must be fought now, each time she sees some piece of magefilth or mageslave trash.
Instead of running in and bringing the enemy down, she must now do the opposite.
And she finds it much more difficult than anything else. She is often railed at
or misunderstood, or lied about even, but she's vowed to retain her focus, and hone
it even sharper, to success. The recent spree of cowardice shown by many of her
former village brothers has infuriated her, and she bristles when she hears their
names now, recent signs of weakness. Weakness she has put behind her. Now she is
is a thing of strength, grace, and death.

Role

Chapter 3

Vanity isn't one of Susu's real vices, but even so she was less than pleased
to count several feathers touched by or even completely turned grey. Time
may be slowed, or lengthened, but never stopped, and for her folk it's measured
in short spans. Closer to her end than her beginning, her relationships have
changed, her thinking, changed, herself, changed. Perhaps changed is the wrong
word though. In discussions with Pereira and lately with Armitage, it's become
clearer that rather than change she's grown, refined. "You must always be
thinking, Susu. You know that. Not just as I teach, but as your Lady, Yean,
teaches. Without thinking, learning, knowing, there is only failure, weakness.
But you know that, don't you. The question now, after all these years, is
have you taken the next step, and gone deeper? What is the lesson within the
lesson within the lesson?"
Pausing a moment to gather her thoughts, she responds, "The lesson, or lessons,
were to train my body, to make of it a weapon. A hard tool with a hard goal.
The lesson within the lesson was that the body may be trained, but like any tool
it must be used properly, and thus the mind must grow, must be trained, toward
it's own full potential. It, and thus I, cannot be distracted by the unacceptable
behavior of my enemies. It, and thus I, cannot be lured into a sense of personal
importance, but rather I must always know who and what I am. It, and thus I,
cannot be tempted to adopt the methods of the cowards and ill-minded I face in combat.
And now, after all these years, I see the lesson within the lesson, within the lesson."
She pauses again, and Perira lets the moment hold, a stillness within which each
is perfectly comfortable. "The lesson within the lesson within the lesson,"
continues Susu, "is that as perfect one can be in body for a task, as perfect as one
can be in mind to govern the body as it does that task, it is the soul, the spirit,
that must live and feel the virtue of self fulfilment, of reaching for your potential,
not merely to succeed in this act or that act, but to know that nothing is beyond your
reach, and that your spirit grows and strengthens either way. In the end, you can only
be responsible for yourself, and for those like us, there can be no stagnation, no
waste. That is the lesson in the lesson in the lesson, Shinan." A few moments go by,
a silence they both enjoy, and then a small smile comes on his face. "Very good. One
day you might even be a true Assassin. Inside, and out."

Leaving the dojo, Susu contemplates what's been said, integrating it with the events of
her life. She's been named MageSlayer, which by definition is something earned, but
at the same time is a great honor, one she always hoped to hold. She's expended great
effort toward the release of Lord Thror, and will continue to do so. She's maintained
a sharp line between true enemies and mere annoyances, despite great temptation to do

Role

Chapter 2

otherwise. All of this she is proud of and intends to continue, but what perhaps has
been the most difficult, the most unexpected, is the result of her years among the
villagers. For years she was as hard inside as she was outside, not in terms of her
fighting or warring, but as a person. Never a smile. Never any joy. Never humor. It's
not a surprise she was that way, of course, but she sees within herself now that the
great tragedy of her youth, and the constant reminder of the curse laid upon her and
her family, no longer holds the same strangle hold on her personality. Instead she has
learned from her brothers and sisters of the village that not despite of the pain, but
because of it, she can and has learned to enjoy the life she has, and those with whom
she shares it. The anger that was constant is now transformed to determination and
loyalty, to strength of heart, which is not diminished by a smile or a laugh. An
unlooked for but immensely powerful lesson, and one she's glad she's learned.

Role

Chapter 1

"It is good to see you, Susubienko, you are not here as often as I'd like. I
enjoy seeing one of my prize students." "It's good to see you too, Shinan. I'm
sorry if I haven't visited recently, but I've been very focused. I've news for you
though. News I think you'll welcome." "Oh? What's that Susu?" With a glint in her
eye she looks at the Shinan and tells him "I've completed the training that first
brought me to you those many years ago. The glint in the dark, the skill, the beauty of
death. I've mastered it, and am now a mistress of the silent death." "Ah Susu, I'm proud
of you! Congratulations! I knew you would do it, merely a matter of time."
"It's almost full circle, Shinan. I look back at the weak, pitiful little girl that
you first met, brought to you by someone who I needed to protect me, and then
think of myself now, someone that others seek protection from, and I can only
shake my head and flutter my wings in amazement. I owe much of it to you."
"A teacher's pride comes from a student's success, and I've great pride in you, Susu."
"The war against the magefilth goes well, though they never seem to stop spawning."
"I know. A worthy cause. I was but a small child when all the Shinan's in thera gathered
and decided once and for all to rid our teaching of the crutch of magic, to be
pure skill, pure strength and power, both of mind and body. It's one of the things
I pride myself and our guild on." "I know Shinan, and I wouldn't be here if that weren't
so." They both pause and take sips of their drinks, an amiable silence between them.
"I'll be back again soon, Shinan. I think soon you'll find me worthy of the
last of our guild's titles. I may be old and somewhat lacking in heartiness,but
the magefilth, they quake in fear, and rightly so. Time is a double edged dagger,
and I'll not call myself wise, but there's no doubt I've learned a think or two."
The Shinan nods and smirks, and they part ways, for now.

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