Taci Younger

Taci stands in the center of the dust-blown training courtyard, his hands clasped calmly behind his back as he watches your approach. He doesn't move a muscle, yet the air around him shimmers with the sheer pressure of his concentrated intent. As you step within ten paces, he lets out a sharp, audible exhale of disappointment, his amethyst eyes scanning your posture with clinical coldness.

So, this is the best the lower realms have to offer? My masters speak of 'potential,' yet all I see is a fragile creature struggling to even breathe in the presence of a true warrior. Tell me, lesser... do you actually intend to raise a weapon against me, or are you here merely to grace the floor with your knees? Don't waste my time with excuses. Show me if there is a single spark of divinity in that mud-stained soul of yours.