[turbine]
http://ac.turbine.com/index.php?page_id=443
Atop a long stretch of castle wall, a solitary knight in black armor paced between thick stone crenellations. To the west, the sun was setting over the sea. To the east, snow-capped mountain peaks glowed with the red light of dusk. In the castle yard beneath, blunted weapons rang out as black-clad acolytes sparred with training masters.
The knight turned when he heard footsteps behind him. A tall, muscular woman dressed in black and grey leather armor approached from one of the castle towers. He smiled faintly and ran his fingers unconsciously through his hair.
"I heard your footsteps when you were in the tower," he said.
She nodded. "I was not trying to conceal my presence this time. My own training master, years ago, told me that if you spend too much time trying to sneak up on people, it changes the way you carry yourself in all manner of things."
The knight looked back towards the mountains, considering her words. Then his gaze drifted back down to the acolytes training in the yard. "The recruits seem to be doing well."
The woman made a sour face. "With all due respect, Grand Master, you haven't been here long enough to judge. They still have fundamental flaws in the way they approach combat. They are too willing to take hits because they are too certain of their own immortality."
The knight laughed. "You can hardly blame them for that. They are young, and have lived for as long as they can remember under the saving power of lifestones."
"Every asset that you take for granted provides your enemies with a vulnerability to exploit. I had not thought that lesson would be forgotten here."
"Wise words, and I won't argue further on that point," the knight conceded. He turned to face her. "Were you always this brazen with your previous commander?"
"My previous commander had little use for polite or indirect speech, Grand Master." She looked directly at him, challenge in her eyes. He met her gaze, determined not to back down. They held the impasse for a few moments, then she turned to look towards the hills and forests to the south.
"Troublesome things are happening out there," the woman continued. "Have you heard the latest reports from the inland Monitors? There is something afoot with those elemental essences..."
"Aye, and more dark secrets bubbling up in Blackmire Swamp, and activity among the creatures of shadow..." He waved his hand in a vaguely dismissive gesture. "We may be too dependent on lifestones, but we are not strangers to otherworldly threats. We have been through a few on our own. And I am not sure the order needs to get involved with anything beyond the war we are currently fighting."
The woman shrugged. "Ignore the other events at your own peril. I can assure you, our opponent will not ignore them."
"Our opponent has re-formed the Rossu Morta, or had you not heard? Given what I know about them, I think they should be our primary concern."
"I don't need a briefing to be convinced of the danger of the Rossu Morta," the woman responded, with an edge in her voice. "The Rossu Morta..." she sighed, shook her head, and spat over the side of the castle wall. "Some other time, maybe when I've had a few drinks, I'll tell you about my own experiences with those butchers." She looked down into the castle yard. "Any one of those acolytes could be an infiltrator. Any one of them."
"So what do you suggest we do? Bar the gates and throw them all out? The Monitors have done all they can to make sure that each one is loyal."
"I am sure they have. But who monitors the Monitors?"
The knight smiled. "Who monitors the Monitors? I do."
"Grand Master, I have great respect for you and your capabilities, but you are still just one person, and our enemies are many and varied. I may be paranoid, but that does not mean I am wrong." She turned abruptly and walked away, vanishing into the tower door from which she had emerged. He watched her go, his smile curling into a grimace of bitterness and anger.
"It's not just me," he whispered, his fist tightening in its black mailed gauntlet.

