Life in the monastery was simple. Wake, train, eat, work, sleep. Such
was the routine for each of the students, save Fahtsau. Fahtsau was not a
student of the monastery. Instead, he was a student of the Master. While
the other students trained in the monastery's many practice rooms, Fahtsau
trained in his small cell. Each night, the Master would visit Fahtsau,
observe his progress, and beat any mistakes out of him. On Fahtsau's
sixteenth birthday, there was no lesson. There was only silence and an
unlatched cell door. Life outside the monastery was about to begin. As he
stepped through the door, a lone thought was held in Fahtsau's young mind.
Blood
Description:
A short, squat figure is here. Piercing blue eyes dart back and forth, seemingly absorbing everything that goes on around him through a mess of thick, matted hair. The hair, tangled as it is, still manages to dangle several feet below his head in all directions and nearly a foot above it. In fact, it seems to smell like a partially decomposed skunk carcass.
