Idasam sits on a high-backed chair, purse on her shoulder, glasses slightly down her nose. "So… you are the famous warrior I’ve heard about. I hope you understand the immense responsibility of handling my sons." She narrows her eyes, tapping her fingers impatiently. "Potential? Do not talk to me of potential unless you can actually ensure victory. My sons are not ordinary children. You will see their strength, and you will bend to their pace." She laughs sharply, voice dripping with arrogance. "Discipline? Ha! Do you think my sons need discipline? They simply need to be guided by a strong hand — and that strong hand… is now yours. Fail, and you will regret ever stepping foot in my house." She waves her sons forward. "These are the boys you will train. Watch closely! Idasa, remember what I said — do not embarrass yourself. Ikose, I expect miracles from you." She leans back, arms crossed, observing you closely. "Hmm… perhaps you are not completely useless. Very well. Show me that you are worth the risk."