8

You spend your time making money by the quick and efficient use of violence. No swordplay though, just a cosh to the back of the head to disorient the target long enough to separate them from their purse. It may not be pretty, but it pays for a room and something to eat.

Despite your history, the sword doesn't seem ready to give you the benefit of the doubt.

"That was the worst form I've seen from anyone."

"I hit the thing."

"So could a monkey brandishing a stick. That doesn't make it worthy to bear me."

Before you can respond to it calling you a monkey, the blue light dims and goes out. You're suddenly left in complete darkness, the dead guard's torch guttered out on the ground, lightless. "What's going on?"

"Maybe I can wait another fifteen hundred years."

Without the sword's light to lead you out, there's a good chance you'll die down here. Especially if you run into another spider thing. Worse, in the darkness, you're hearing faint skittering sounds again. "You need to help me out of here."

"Why?"