ShadowAsh7

        It's the middle of night. Shadows fill the cozy interior of your room at Garreg Mach Monastery. Lying awake in bed, you keep trying to erase the horrible visions that have been plaguing you ever since the end of the war against the empire. Visions of your former students—beloved friends you used to teach the art of swordsmanship, having tea with them, laughing with them, competing against them in mock battles. Now their blood is on your hands. And for what? What exactly did the war accomplish? It all seemed so pointless.        After tossing and turning for hours, you finally give up the hope of finding sleep. Restlessly you ro

        Early one spring morning, you stand in the middle of the training grounds at Garreg Mach Monastery. A lone gust of wind stirs up the soft covering of dirt that coats the arena floor. As the sun steadily rises over the grey stone walls, you clutch the hilt of a steel sword in your hands.        One by one, you flex your fingers in anticipation, an old habit you've had since your mercenary days. Your opponent stands squarely before you, his sword drawn at the ready. He's dressed in the leather armor of a master swordsman. His long, black hair tied back in a messy ponytail. Loose strands covering one side of his stern face. With a furro