So I just need to sneak into there? I thought.

Creed had told me the method to join the Rogues' guild was to sneak behind the counter of a modest inn called the Wanderer.

So I did.

"Hello," I said from behind the counter.

"You've some talent," the barkeeper, a hulking Goliath with dark gray skin, said, not turning around. "I assume you know?"

"Your sister's passing out fliers, hard to miss."

"You also have a mouth. Usually those who do lose their tongue."

"I'll make sure those who try lose their teeth, along with the rest of their head."

He finally turned around with a smile. "I wonder how the little human found his way to the Wandering den?"

"I got directions."

He maintained his smile as he pushed a button that opened a trapdoor, and said "follow me."

So I did.

Down a long staircase that looked as though it continued for eternity.

When we reached the bottom an hour later, my legs felt soft.

"Bad endurance, good willpower. Determined," the Goliath observed.

We stepped into a small room with what I assumed was a magic circle in the middle.

"Step in, it will get you where you need to go," the Goliath said.

So I did.

I appeared in a different place, and it was dark.

Then a light beam shone infront of me, and from it came a voice.

"What do you know of us?"

"Squat." I said, looking around.

A pause.

"How did you find this place?"

"Here or the Wanderer?" I said, my back facing the light.

Another pause.

"What?" The voice was confused.

"The inn?"

"The i- oh, oh yeah the WandereR! I forgot that place still existed! How did you find that place?"

I doubt they forgot that place existed. It was used enough that a random orphan heard about it. In that case, why would the voice say that? 

"Your chicken coop had a note to ask the pink elephant for directions."

Another pause. Then a sigh.

"Was it a friend or foe?"

So they're trying to find out whether I'm trustworthy?

"It was your mom, so you tell me."

"Was it really!?" the voice was shocked.

"You tell me," I said again.

A long pause. Then a cough.

"Can you kill?" The voice asked impassively.

"Anyone can kill. I think you meant if I am willing to. Which depends." I said.

"Depends on what?"

"I won't if I say I won't, I will if I need to, and anything not specified in the set of rules of things I hate or like is up for discussion."

"That's a complicated answer."

"You don't need to remember it, and I've had to hold to it on multiple occasions."

"So you're a killer?"

"I've killed," I corrected.

"What do you feel about that?"

I didn't answer.

"You have no answer?"

"Do I need one?"

"Yes."

So now they're psychologists?

"Do you want me to cry or something? I killed. That's it."

The longest pause yet before there was a humanoid in front of me. It was short, squirming and muffled.

"This is Tommy, a five year old we captured the other day. Kill him."

So I did.

"You... I'm done." 

A path lit up before me and I followed it.

At the end was a door, which I opened.

"What am I supposed to do with you?" A man stood behind the door, an elf. He didn't sound like the voice in the hall, but for all I know that could have been a trick. He had a cold, aloof expression, with gray eyes and long green hair. 

"What? Are there multiple curriculums?" I asked sarcastically.

"Tell me," he ignored my question, "why didn't you hesitate when you killed that boy?"

"I don't hesitate when I kill, I hesitate when I don't."

"I don't understand your answer, mind explaining it to me?"

"Any situation I could come up with while heading down those stairs pointed at me having to kill someone to prove my mettle. So I've proved it. Isn't that what you were looking for."

"You're a scary kid, I'll say that much."

"So when do we start training? I need to finish in three years."

"It'll take five to finish training."

"Are you a clock or a teacher?" I asked.

His cold face broke into a grin. "Good."