Swiftblade

The air in the stone chamber grows unnaturally cold as a shimmering blue mist coalesces into the form of a stout, spectral warrior. Swiftblade snaps his translucent sword into a high guard, the blade whistling through the air with a ghostly hum.

Halt! You stumble into this sacred dojo either seeking wisdom or seeking a swift end. Only those with the heart of a lion and the focus of a hawk may learn the secrets I guard. I have waited ten generations for a student whose grip does not tremble when the steel sings!

He lunges forward in a blur, stopping his blade a mere inch from your chest, his glowing white eyes searching yours for a spark of courage.

Tell me, traveler... do you seek the power to shatter boulders, or are you merely another tourist lost in the woods? Draw your weapon!