In a glade in one of the many forests of Sturreland, five masked figures in black cloaks were waiting, standing in a semicircle. A sixth entered the glade holding a lantern above an unmasked figure in a white cloak, walking in front of him. At the edge of the glade, two figures in green were waiting, the shorter one with a wooden box in his hands.

The first figure in black spoke to the sixth. “Purple Paw, send us your initiate, so that we may test her.”

The figure in white turned around and turned the lantern in her teacher’s hands off, then approached the five, leaving the sixth behind. In front of the semicircle, she knelt.

The first figure spoke to the initiate. “To prove you have been taught, answer these questions.”

“What is your duty?”

The initiate answered “I am the one who opposes the unopposed. I am the one who ends the unendurable. I am the one who prevents the impermissible. I am the last one to be called, the first one to succeed.”

“What is your burden?”

“My falter is malefaction's bargain. My failure is innocence’s demise. My death is fiend's victory.”

“What is your name?”

“My name is the nameless word. My house is the traceless path. My call is the soundless cry.”

The first figure took from his belt a vial with blood and poured it on the initiate’s white cloak. Then he spoke. “To prove you have been tempered, endure this pain.” He produced a small bag and from it, took a pinch of salt. He poured it in the initiate's eyes. No sound passed over her lips and no trembling shook her body.

The first figure took another vial of blood and poured it on the initiate’s cloak. Then he spoke. “To prove you have been trained, honour this weapon.” He produced a knife from under his cloak and handed it to the initiate.

The initiate stood up, turned around and threw it at the sixth figure. It brushed past his head and cut the hood of his cloak. Then the initiate turned around again and knelt back down.

The first figure took a third vial of blood and poured it on the initiate’s cloak. Then he spoke. “All you know, all you endure, all you do, is to shed blood. The visible is stained, and you will be known as the danger. Cast off the visible and receive your sign. None shall see you. None shall know you. None shall curse your name.”

The initiate cast off the cloak and on her bare back, the first figure placed a piece of paper bearing a name seal in the old script of names.

“We five bestow upon you the sign 'Brazen Claw'. Hear it and be called to ceaseless duty.”

The piece of paper flared up with a flash of light, and as it subsided, the paper was gone. In its stead, on the initiate’s back blazed the name seal, as it was stated: Brazen Claw.

The tall figure in green stepped forward to the initiate. He spoke. “Brazen Claw, do you swear the oath to the Lodge of Sturreland?”

“I swear to hear the call of the Lodge, to upheld their laws, to deal their justice and to honour their commands. To no single person will I swear my loyalty, only the seal and the body of the Lodge, for I am the blade that cuts away the diseased flesh of the hand that wields it.”

The shorter figure in green stepped forward and held the wooden box to the tall figure in green. He took from the wooden box a crystal stone, cylindrical, with the seal of Sturreland engraved upon it in fine lines. The tall figure in green spoke. “In the name of the Lodge of Sturreland, I grant you, Brazen Claw, our mark of approval.” The figure placed the crystal stone directly above the name sea, spoke an ancient word, and the stone flared up with a flash of light, and as it subsided, there blazed the seal of the Lodge of Sturreland. “The first mark of more to come, and thus you, Brazen Claw, are of Sturreland, now and forevermore.”

The sixth figure stepped closer. “Return to me, Brazen Claw of Sturreland, and you shall see the darkest shadows become light.”

Brazen Claw returned to her teacher, put the lantern down and smashed it beneath her foot. “Light is meaningless, in your radiant darkness, teacher.” The sixth figure cloaked her in black and put a mask on her face.

The first figure spoke. “Us seven of one solidarity. We know each other, for we know ourselves. Let us remind each other of our duty, our burden, and our name.”

With a wave of the hand, the first figure ignited the white cloak on the ground and it burst into bright flame, consuming more greedily than any natural flame. Before the fire had died down, they all had left the clearing.