Few ever knocked on the monastery’s front door, but today, someone did. The young apprentice opened it, blinked in disbelief, and promptly shut it again. Maybe he had drunk too much the night before. Another knock jolted him from his thoughts. He opened the door again, stared briefly, then shut it again, silently hoping last night’s ale was playing tricks on him. A third, forceful knock rattled the frame. With a resigned sigh and a prayer to the dark gods, he opened the door to find himself face to face with Prunhiline, the legendary warrior, all six foot seven and nine-quarters of her. The apprentice didn’t know how to react, so he invited her in and offered her breakfast and beer.

  Morfark was having a fantastic morning. Well-rested and looking forward to breakfast, he’d heard rumors of excellent bacon. As he entered the dining hall, he greeted Prunhiline with a cheerful “Good morning.” He hummed a tune as he walked until his brain caught up with his eyes, and he froze mid-step. Why was Prunhiline here? He turned to the warrior, who happily waved at him as she drank her beer and ate her eggs and bacon. The assassin grimaced at the thoughts of beer, eggs, and bacon and then returned to what was most important. Why was Prunhiline here?

  "Prunhiline, my dear, so good to see you," Morfark said as he cautiously approached the warrior.

  "Hey, Morfark! Pull up a chair and have a beer. By the way, the bacon is excellent." She said cheerfully.

  Morfark sat across from Prunhiline, watching the towering warrior demolish her breakfast and beer. Several theories ran through his mind. The most obvious? She was here to kill them all. A strong possibility. The second? Something was wrong with Britina.

  The second option caused Morfark to feel a cold dread. If Prunhiline and Britina had fought, the warrior might have decided to move in. That terrified him. Chaos followed Prunhiline like a shadow on a bright sunny day in the desert with no clouds. And worse, what if something was seriously wrong with Britina? The mage was the only person capable of keeping Prunhiline in check. That would be terrible for everyone.

  “So, Prun, what brings you to our lovely keep?” Morfark asked, feigning casualness.

  “Nothing special. Just wanted to visit.” Prunhiline said between mouths full of food.

  “It’s lovely you came by, but you have never visited here before. Not that we don’t mind the company.” Morfark said with as much cheerfulness as he could muster while watching the warrior eat.

  “Sure, I was, uh, in the neighborhood,” Prunhiline said, not looking at Morfark.

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  “How is Lady Britina?” Morfark asked as a brother brought more eggs, bacon, and beer to Prunhiline.

  “She’s, um, she’s ok,” Prunhiline said, taking the food and swallowing most of it in one go.

  “Is everything ok?” Morfark began to worry. Prunhiline was acting odd.

  Another brother cautiously delivered a heaping plate of food, setting it down before retreating as though escaping death herself (which, in this case, was true). Prunhiline tore into the meal with the ferocity of a hungry animal. Morfark feared he wouldn’t get to eat breakfast, lunch, or dinner at the rate she ate.

  Morfark stood up and went to the kitchen. He returned with two plates of food, one for himself with a moderate amount of food and the other for Prunhiline, which was heavily piled with food. He noticed the other brothers of the order were all cowering across the room from them. He felt slightly ashamed. They were the Brotherhood of Assassins, yet they cowered in fear in their own keep!

  Morfark and Prunhiline ate in silence. He had rarely seen Prunhiline this quiet and somber before. The more they sat and ate, the more worried he became.

  “Brother Ulm, bring me, Brother Mathis. I have a mission for him.” Morfark said, turning to the crowd of cowering brothers.

  One monk jumped to attention and ran off, thankful to be allowed to leave. Shortly after, he returned with a young man wearing the brown robes of an apprentice.

  “Brother Mathis, go to Lady Britina’s home and see if you can find out what is happening. Do not teleport into their home; be respectful and knock.” Morfark said to the young apprentice.

  Soon, Brother Mathis found himself outside the infamous home of Britina and Prunhiline. He knocked and waited. It didn’t take long before the mage answered the door.

  “What.” She said coldly.

  “Um, Lady Britina? I’m Brother Mathis from the Order of the..” He was cut short by Britina’s glare.

  “Oh, so, you have come here to assassinate me?” She demanded.

  “No, uh, we uh.” He stammered under her glare. “We were concerned, and I was sent to check on things. Prunhiline is, uh, visiting us.” The apprentice didn’t know what else to say.

  “Oh, so you're here to check on me.” Britina smiled sweetly, yet it put the young man on edge. “Come in and let me explain.” Before the man could turn and run, her strong magic pulled him into the house.

  Later...

  “Brother Morfark, Brother Mathis isn’t responding. He just sits and rocks back and forth, muttering.” Brother Ulm said to the master assassin.

  Morfark grabbed the apprentice and shook him hard. The young man jolted, shouting, “Yes! I respect women’s reproductive cycles! Just, please, no more diagrams!” Morfark stared at him, contemplating whether Britina should be invited to give lectures on torture.

  Morfark had now lost his patience. He turned to Prunhiline, “Spill!"

  Prunhiline sighed. “It’s… her time of the month. And I didn’t want to go camping.” She looked down at the table, suddenly shy. “Hope you don’t mind.”

  Morfark frowned, confused, then realization dawned. Silently, he nodded, poured himself another beer, and grabbed more bacon. He joined his friend at the table as they enjoyed their bacon and beer.

  From then on, Prunhiline visited the Brothers monthly for a weeklong celebration of women's reproductive cycles.