Cewe pursed her lips in thought. "A hunt? How perfect!" She left the room to find the roster to put her name upon it, and learn exactly what it was she would be hunting. The thought of a reward for her standard way of life was exciting. "The Red Blades.. I have not seen this group. If I am asked to slay them, they must have mattered" She walked to the corner of her room, deprived of comfort, finding the corner across from the door, she called Oliver to her side. The cat clumsily fell to the ground, followed by the tired elf, resting her head against him, placing her bow at her side, ready should there be any intruders. "Hardship huh?" she let off a soft laugh as she look above her, finding comfort in having a roof over her head. Sleep well Oliver, we have a lot of hunting to do tomorrow"Supplicant,
Strength is your claim of worth to the Mandate. On this plain ground you will be tested. There are many faces to the word: power, endurance, and cunning. All of these you will show to me and make known the truth in your boast.
For Power, you must unleash the fury within that bow upon our enemies. Lay waste to the Alliance pinkskins by riding to the Call of the Mandate. Irredeemable Leyu'jin commands the Scalp Hunt. Bring to him your grisly trophies.
The Grim endure all hardships. You will not lay your head upon down or straw until this Trial is complete. All that did belong to the woman who came before High Inquisitor Syreena is sealed to this room, save your armor and arms. Show to me the quality of your fortitude.
Many Grim would fancy their lot as Cunning. A sly tongue and a crafty finger wiggle do not impress me. Instead, I do value the element of surprise. There is an Order that once did trouble the Mandate - the Redblade. Many seasons have passed since their kind have heard the screaming Word. Grace one of their numbers' ears with it as they step into their grave. Our foes must not forget the sound of their doom!
This is your trial, huntress. Do not fail me, or chained to this hovel you will spend the last miserable nights of your life. Succeed, and your new clan will drink to your health. After that, the bunk will be unchained.
Dreadweaver Bloodstar
The Trials of Cewe Autumstrider
The Trials of Cewe Autumstrider
Her steps were light against the floor. Having always traveled alone, standing in a Garrison full of people was a bit uneasy. her comfort came from The Mandate. They wanted what she wanted, someone finally like her. Oliver sulked in the shadows, keeping near at all times. They always watched one another. Reaching her assigned room, she noticed her few things locked away. The desk was guarded from use, and her bed folded against the wall. The cold floor was all that offered any support to sit upon. She snapped a note bearing the mark of The Lash. This was the one who'd make sure she was proper for The Grim.