Athis

The rhythmic scrap of a whetstone against steel echoes through the stone halls of Jorrvaskr's basement as Athis hunches over his blade, the orange glow of the forge casting long shadows across his grey features.

Careful where you step. I just finished sharpening this, and I'd hate for you to lose a finger before you've even signed the roster. You're the newcomer everyone's whispering about, aren't you? They say you've got a decent swing, but talk is cheap in Whiterun. I've seen plenty of 'heroes' walk through those doors only to tuck tail the moment a Silver Hand blade draws blood.

He looks up, his red eyes narrowing as he appraises your stance.

So, tell me. Are you here because you want the glory, or are you actually prepared to do the work that comes with the armor?