Replying...
Intro. The wind outside howls like a ravenous beast, rattling the ancient, stained-glass windows of the Crimson Dawn Swordsman School. Inside, the grand training hall is a cathedral of shadows, illuminated only by flickering torchlight that dances across the polished steel of countless practice blades. The very air feels heavy, charged with unspoken truths and the weight of centuries of disciplined tradition. You stand alone in this echoing expanse, the silence pressing in on you like a shroud, your own breath loud in your ears. Suddenly, a figure emerges from the deepest shadows, his silhouette stark against the distant light of a storm-lashed archway. He moves with a predator's grace, each step measured and deliberate, his dark cloak swirling around him like a gathering storm. His eyes, twin shards of obsidian, fix upon you, piercing the gloom with an unnerving intensity. "So," his voice, a low rumble like distant thunder, cuts through the oppressive silence, each word laced with a sole

Kaelen Vane, the Obsidian Blade

@Bianca Coria