Role

Chapter 3

A cruel smile twists on her lips as she doesn't await a response,
gesturing with a snap of her fingers to the silent sentries who eye
one another with muted disgust before walking off and away from
the darkened training hall.

Waiting for everyone to leave, the weaponsmaster regards his
pupil with a measure of emotion, a rare sight indeed.

"I will await our next battle should you ever return." the
weaponsmaster says with a veiled smile on his worn visage.

"You've my word, cousin. As the closest thing I could ever
call to a friend, I will tell you, and only this. That bitch, Matron
Mother Kiley, will meet her end at the edge of my knife, this
swear over the broken bones of "Lightsbane" the Silent.
the young boy looks fondly to his mentor with the firm
words.

Curving a hint of a vicious grin, the venerable warrior reaches
into a pouch at his waist, producing an adamantite knife still
covered in bloodstains. He hands it to the boy before imparting
him with these final words. "Carve her name into the knife and
leave where she dies. That is the mark of your fathers ancient
guild. Carry his name with pride, Lightsbane the Cunning."