Blackfeather Woods chamber of secrets

The dark woman nodded, a confirmation to is inquisition. Perhaps it was peculiar to him that she would call upon him, but she did so with purpose. “You have been here for some time, I feel now you have earned the right to know of the Dark Brotherhood,” 

“Our professions exists in three categories: Priests, Spies and Assassins, and as a whole, we pledge our dedication to the Night Mother, Mephala and her consort, Sithis. By proving your faith and your allegiance through tasks inclined towards the desired title, you will ascend to a place among the brotherhood’s ranks,” She paused, waiting for any indication of confusion or a blank stare to pass through his facial features before continuing. “Should you desire to become an Assassin, you will prove to me and me only that you are capable of such an esteemed position by tasks that will ask more of you, morally, than they will physically, in truth,’ It was true. There was a fine line between good and bad, but the line of right and wrong was more complex and ever-evolving. The trick was to being one’s concept of what it meant to have mercy and shape it to accept what may seem wrong. It was a job for the strong in mind as it was in body, and a task that drove many mad with guilt. She had not succumbed to the demons that lurked in the shadows, and she never would. Some were just not that strong. “Should you do so, you will advance to the rank of Reaper, Slayer, Executioner, and if you are good enough, Silencer,” She spoke her former rank with an ominous gloom. The dark woman was accomplished, in every sense of the word but the same could not be said for their Tyro’s; those who had not found their calling. Her goal was to induct as many as she could to their devout ways, whether or not they accepted Mephala or not. It was not a choice, it was an obligation; one that all within the Dark Woods was to fulfil. She sat back, awaiting questions.