Magus Maleficarum | IC | Open

[Elerian]

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OOC

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Chaos and war has found the Northern Kingdoms unprepared, and it's unlikely to subside until rivers of blood have been spilt. The collapse of the North seems inevitable. Not since the days of the glorious old Reinsbach Empire has the North known peace. But now, peace holds no true meaning to those that etch out their lives under the boots of the vain nobility and the cancerous Guilds that work alongside them. But even their relationship seems strained of late. Guilds grow more greedy with each passing generation, and they have desire in their eyes for the lands and titles that the Nobles hold.

Creatures of Nightmare are moving southwards in ever greater numbers, and Kazimir’s Farce seems to only have exacerbated the ever growing problem rather than solve it. And Volhinia-Galich is far too proud to ever ask for aid, even if their very survival rests in the balance. But should Volhinia-Galich fall, then so too will the whole of the North likely fall with it.

Even the mages have grown restless as of late, they cite the broken Warder System as the cause for their strife. Their complaints fall on the deaf ears of the corrupt Guilds. So, many mages have gone Apostate, many more than have ever been recorded in centuries. To match this, several anti-mage groups have risen to counteract this threat. However, few are well equipped, and most are vehemently opposed by the Guilds. Yet, several have grown to be truly feared by both Apostate and Guild Mages alike.

And in the middle of all this is you, and your ragtag group of Mages and Warders. Your Company is green as grass. Yet, that will soon change as you finish up your last day as an initiate. Your Company is already set to be loaned out to the Monarch of Warbenrau, a kindly old man who, like your Guild, is slowly dying. His longstanding friendship with the Grey Company has likely been the only thing keeping it alive in these dire times.

The gears of war are turning ever faster, fueled by the blood of the innocent, and spurred on by the hatred of humanity. The Gods have forsaken the world, their blessedly divine light has not touched the souls of man for many Millenia. And, in the absence of light there is only darkness and despair.

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The early morning wind gently rippled the Grey Company standards along the walls as the sun slowly crept its way over the cloudless grey-blue horizon. The small town that lay below the Grey Company fortress of Greysong began to stir to fulfill its morning routines. It was quiet and pristine, a perfect morning for the final day the group of Warders and Mages would spend in this Idyllic place.

The Fortress was beginning to come to life as the night sentries changed shifts, the cooks got about their cooking, and all the rest of the servants woke to ready for the coming day. There would be a feast that afternoon for the new company of Warders and Mages, then the following day they would go out into the world to begin their first assignment. What the assignment in question turned out to be was something they had not been privy to, only tomorrow would they learn what they were going to go do, so that today at least they could free their minds of the coming days.

They were scheduled for one last day of training in the yard, one last day of honing their skills with mind, body, and sword so that they might meet the coming days and live to tell about them afterwards. While Calder was told he could let his soldiers sleep in a bit more than usual, he had none of it. Calder and Vivianna walked quickly from their own apartments, directly adjacent to his company’s barracks, to rouse them from their slumber. He refused to let their last day of training go to waste.

His limbs were stiff, and his eyes still bore sleep sand, but he still moved quickly with Vivianna close behind. They both wore their full armament, and after a short walk, they were in front of the door that led to the Barracks. Vivianna stepped forward, opened the door for Calder and Calder stepped through. The two of them went into the sleeping area, and bid the Warder on duty to wake everyone and report to the Yard. Each Warder and their respective Mage shared a bunk, but one Warder was always on watch through the night.

Calder and Vivianna didn’t wait for them, they walked back out and went down to the yard to wait for everyone to arrive. Calder had something special in mind for them. Calder looked around at the Fortress. It was huge, built in a time when the Grey Company had thrice as many members as it did now. Today it barely had enough men to keep it functional. Try as they might, the Grey Company was only buying itself time, which they had little enough of as it was. It was unfortunate, perhaps even sad, but that was what happened to good things in this world.

Calder reached the yard and walked to the center, standing and waiting for the others to arrive.

"How do you think they'll fare, Calder?" Vivianna asked through steamy breath.

"Only the Gods may know" Calder replied whilst rubbing his calves to get the stiffness out.

"I thought you didn't believe in the Gods?"

"Aye, I don't."

[Free Empire of the Low Isles]

(Image)

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OOC

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Chaos and war has found the Northern Kingdoms unprepared, and it's unlikely to subside until rivers of blood have been spilt. The collapse of the North seems inevitable. Not since the days of the glorious old Reinsbach Empire has the North known peace. But now, peace holds no true meaning to those that etch out their lives under the boots of the vain nobility and the cancerous Guilds that work alongside them. But even their relationship seems strained of late. Guilds grow more greedy with each passing generation, and they have desire in their eyes for the lands and titles that the Nobles hold.

Creatures of Nightmare are moving southwards in ever greater numbers, and Kazimir’s Farce seems to only have exacerbated the ever growing problem rather than solve it. And Volhinia-Galich is far too proud to ever ask for aid, even if their very survival rests in the balance. But should Volhinia-Galich fall, then so too will the whole of the North likely fall with it.

Even the mages have grown restless as of late, they cite the broken Warder System as the cause for their strife. Their complaints fall on the deaf ears of the corrupt Guilds. So, many mages have gone Apostate, many more than have ever been recorded in centuries. To match this, several anti-mage groups have risen to counteract this threat. However, few are well equipped, and most are vehemently opposed by the Guilds. Yet, several have grown to be truly feared by both Apostate and Guild Mages alike.

And in the middle of all this is you, and your ragtag group of Mages and Warders. Your Company is green as grass. Yet, that will soon change as you finish up your last day as an initiate. Your Company is already set to be loaned out to the Monarch of Warbenrau, a kindly old man who, like your Guild, is slowly dying. His longstanding friendship with the Grey Company has likely been the only thing keeping it alive in these dire times.

The gears of war are turning ever faster, fueled by the blood of the innocent, and spurred on by the hatred of humanity. The Gods have forsaken the world, their blessedly divine light has not touched the souls of man for many Millenia. And, in the absence of light there is only darkness and despair.

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The early morning wind gently rippled the Grey Company standards along the walls as the sun slowly crept its way over the cloudless grey-blue horizon. The small town that lay below the Grey Company fortress of Greysong began to stir to fulfill its morning routines. It was quiet and pristine, a perfect morning for the final day the group of Warders and Mages would spend in this Idyllic place.

The Fortress was beginning to come to life as the night sentries changed shifts, the cooks got about their cooking, and all the rest of the servants woke to ready for the coming day. There would be a feast that afternoon for the new company of Warders and Mages, then the following day they would go out into the world to begin their first assignment. What the assignment in question turned out to be was something they had not been privy to, only tomorrow would they learn what they were going to go do, so that today at least they could free their minds of the coming days.

They were scheduled for one last day of training in the yard, one last day of honing their skills with mind, body, and sword so that they might meet the coming days and live to tell about them afterwards. While Calder was told he could let his soldiers sleep in a bit more than usual, he had none of it. Calder and Vivianna walked quickly from their own apartments, directly adjacent to his company’s barracks, to rouse them from their slumber. He refused to let their last day of training go to waste.

His limbs were stiff, and his eyes still bore sleep sand, but he still moved quickly with Vivianna close behind. They both wore their full armament, and after a short walk, they were in front of the door that led to the Barracks. Vivianna stepped forward, opened the door for Calder and Calder stepped through. The two of them went into the sleeping area, and bid the Warder on duty to wake everyone and report to the Yard. Each Warder and their respective Mage shared a bunk, but one Warder was always on watch through the night.

Calder and Vivianna didn’t wait for them, they walked back out and went down to the yard to wait for everyone to arrive. Calder had something special in mind for them. Calder looked around at the Fortress. It was huge, built in a time when the Grey Company had thrice as many members as it did now. Today it barely had enough men to keep it functional. Try as they might, the Grey Company was only buying itself time, which they had little enough of as it was. It was unfortunate, perhaps even sad, but that was what happened to good things in this world.

Calder reached the yard and walked to the center, standing and waiting for the others to arrive.

"How do you think they'll fare, Calder?" Vivianna asked through steamy breath.

"Only the Gods may know" Calder replied whilst rubbing his calves to get the stiffness out.

"I thought you didn't believe in the Gods?"

"Aye, I don't."

Rah, being the one on watch duty when the two officers walked in, obediently wakes everyone up. He walked to around the center of the room and cleared his throat.

"Wake up!" he yelled, his deep voice echoing about the room.

And then he headed to grab his gear and give an especially thorough waking to Aly, his mage. He walked to his bunk, which he shared with the Elven girl, and started grabbing his things. When he was done, he shook the girl awake a little more forcefully than needed. He made sure she was awake with a locking of eyes, and then walked out of the bunkroom, most likely followed by other mage and warder pairs.

Ibrahim covered his eyes as he walked out into the sun, they still being weak due to the low light of the barracks. His clothes wrapped him firmly, allowing what heat he had to stay with him and not be taken by the cold morning. He stood in front of Calder and Vivianna quietly, doing his own stretches, and looking at them with his dark grey eyes, the rest of his face hidden by his mask.

He checked the harnesses of his weapons after that, and simply stood when done.

[Woodstovia]

Alexander was jerked out of a rather pleasant dream about being emperor of the world by the loud shouting of a warden. He groggily got out of bed, his legs stiff and sore, still not used to the hard military beds. He hated this place truthfully, and it didn't make it any nicer that he was paired with a psycho who bragged about how many mages she'd killed regularly.

Alex donned his clothes which were well made and rather gaudy, making it clear to any onlooker that he was a noble. He then headed to the yard where their training was due. He left without a second thought about his warder. She would make it alone he knew. He also hated the yard, being totally inept at combat magic and often being reminded of his failures when he watched what the others could do to their training dummies.

"Morning sir." Alex called, it didn't hurt to suck up a little. He totally ignored Vivianna however, she seemed to hate him for some reason. Alex took a second to glance at Rah who was stretching and decided that he should probably be doing the same thing but remained still anyway. There were a lot of crazies in this company he reflected, yawning.

[The Dystopian Isles of Frisct]

Linley opened his eyes after being abruptly awakened from a somewhat peaceful sleep and squinted at the ceiling for a brief moment, organizing himself on what he would do and sorting through what had happened in some of the last few days. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, looking around the now familiar room before he got up and walked over to his gear.

First he put on the hidden weapon that would lie underneath his clothing. Things like daggers, darts, etc. After promptly finishing strapping his various hidden weapons to his body, as he had done it many times in the past so he could do it relatively quickly, he put on his various protective gamrnets.

First came his leather chest piece. This was relatively easy to put on seeing that he only had to tie a few knots here and there. He then put on his leg guards. These weren't all that great for protection, but it was the maximum he could have while maintaining his agility thoroughly. Finally, he placed the sheathe for his scythe on his back, placing his weapon into it after he had done so.

After his morning equip was over, he went to shake his Mage awake. He didn't do this too hard and he certainly didn't do it too softly, but it was enough to jostle her awake. When he was done getting his Mage up, he headed out the door, greeting the captain and second in command as he walked out the door.

"Good morning you two."

[Finsternia]

Maria was one of the first to have woken up, stretching her body and trying to remove the ringing in her ears. She gave the warden in duty a meaningful and irritated look before getting her clothes. She changed for cleaner inner clothes before wearing her formal uniform. Her clothes gives away her social standing but she refuses to see it. For her, everyone is the same in the battlefield.

She gave a little tug to her gloves before fixing her brooch to pin her cravat to keep it in place. She was almost ready when she forgot something. She forgot about her Warder, Featheris. She gave her new Warder a few shakes to wake her up, making it sure to remove the sleep from her eyes. "It is the last training day, Featheris. Wake up now. I'll be going first now." She walked out the rooms and made her way to the yard, the sunlight shining down.

She approached Calder and Viviana, her incredibly pale skin shining. "Good morning. Ma'am," she said to Viviana before turning to Calder, "and Sir." She made sure to show courtesy as much as possible, bowing to the two as she recognize them. She stood straight, towering over some of her companions.

[Mesrane]

"Gaaah."

The sound Marek Jaworski made as he pulled himself out of his bunk fell somewhere between a moan and a tired grunt. The night had been an exceedingly rare one in that it had come with deep, dreamless sleep. There had been no pleading adversaries or bleeding boys in mail that barely fit their torn bodies. Battlefields of the past hadn't plagued him, allowing Marek to slip into oblivion and string together perhaps ten hours of uninterrupted rest.

That's some kind of personal record, I'm sure, he thought. Indeed, now that he reflected on it, the fortress of Greysong had given him more nights of uninterrupted sleep in the past few months than anywhere else in all his twenty years of wanderings and wars.

Marek rummaged around his few personal belongings until he came upon his chain-mail armor, which he threw over a fresh shirt and breeches. Over the hauberk went a tired and worn Grey Company cloak. The motions were almost subconscious to him at this point; having done this just about every day for the past twenty years, he didn't even think about what went where. The only thing that's changed is for what lord I dress and on what occasion. In this case, he knew it to be a final day of training with his Mage partner, Betzalel. Oh, I've nearly forgotten. . .

Turning, Marek bent over their shared bunk and gently shook his Mage partner awake. "Betzalel, time to dance," he whispered. "One more day of training." He retrieved his enchanted Bharda helm, Skala, and lovingly tucked it under his arm.

Now dressed, Marek strode out of the barracks and into the courtyard where a few of his comrades stood at attention before Captain Calder and Viviana. "Captain, Ma'am," he greeted both officers before joining the others.

[The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness]

Faetheris woke up with a groan, having still been fast asleep, and turned in her bed, falling asleep again in moments, only to be woken up again by a pair of hands softly shaking her. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, the Elf sat up straight and gave a sigh, looking at Maria. She gave the mage a nod, before sighing once more and getting out of bed. Last day of training already, eh. "I'll be there in a moment!" Not happy to be abandoning the mage she had been assigned with for even a moment, she quickly began changing into some fresh clothes before pulling on her gear. For a moment, she held up a small amulet that had once belonged to Alexa - her former charge, and friend, whom now lay dead. I should have done a better job. The Elf gave a sad smile, before tucking the amulet away. Won't let that happen again. Making sure she had her bharda with her, she picked up her sword and quickly moved towards the courtyard, putting her hair in a tie as she arrived, placing herself next to Maria.

Reunited with the mage, the warder allowed herself a moment's rest and looked around, seeing who else was there already. Several mages and wards, as well as the captain and his second in command. "Sir, ma'am." She gave the two a nod as a greeting, reminded that it was only proper to respectfully greet one's superiors. "Let's see what they've got for us, eh?" She told Maria, smiling. "I'm sure we won't have any trouble, whatever it may be."

[SaintB]

As he knelt before the steward and his throne he heard the whispered approval of the many assembled for the ceremony but it was suddenly cut off as the man on the throne raised his hand to silence them. Clad in azure and white the Steward of Tuetonia stood tall and regal as he scanned the room, his dark hair spilled out from beneath his crown and flowed over his shoulders and royal garb and then his almost equally dark eyes focused on Simone. The Steward, Benard, reached for the elegant scabbard on his waste, cherry wood wrapped in white leather and decorated with silver, pearls, sapphires, and lapiz lazule to withdraw his arming sword; a real weapon ready for battle that had been refurbished to reflect its owner's station as the Sovereign of Tuetonia. The pommel and cross-guard had been lacquered white and inset with fluorspar and the hilt wrapped in the white scales from the belly of a great shark but the marvel of the weapon was its blade. The business part of the sword was forged of wootz steel that legend claims brought over from the far west by Saxegarden traders for a king of Skora who's name was lost to history; the Skoran king raided Tuetonia's Northern coasts with his longships until he was caught and defeated by the King of Teutonia in single combat and the sword was taken and reforged for use a the weapon of every Teutonic king since. Today it would be used to knight Simone.

The light shimmered along the the blade and made the waves and swirls of the steel easily visible a well as the scratches and small blemishes caused by a hundred years of use in war but those tiny blemishes only made the weapon more impressive; for what weapon could endure the rigors of combat for so very long? "Simone Shredd!" Benard spoke and for the first time it was apparent how young he still was especially for a ruler of ten years, "Son of Brenworth Shredd, Warder of the Grey Company, do you wish to commit to the ranks of my crusading knighthood? Will you swear fealty to The Golden Lions?"

"Yes your grace, I shall." Simone said as he stared the other man in the eye.

"Then repeat this oath to me as I read it!" the Steward's empty hand reached out and a squire carrying a chalice and a piece of sealed vellum rushed up to his liege who took the paper and broke the seal with one hand before reading, "This is the oath I swear. I will develop my life for the greater good. I will place character above riches, and concern for others above personal wealth, I will never boast, but cherish humility instead, I will speak the truth at all times, and forever keep my word, I will defend those who cannot defend themselves, I will honor and respect all races and sexes and refute bigotry in all its guises, I will uphold justice by being fair to all, I will be faithful in love and loyal in friendship, I will abhor scandals and gossip-neither partake nor delight in them, I will be generous to the poor and to those who need help, I will forgive when asked, that my own mistakes will be forgiven, I will live my life with courtesy and honor from this day forward. So do I swear, so do I ever swear."

The words poured from Simone's mouth as he recited them back to the Steward and hoped that he would not stumble or stutter on them and his recitation seemed to be pleasing enough to Benard who continued the ceremony. The written oath was placed in the chalice and lit on fire by the squire who knelt and held the vessel aloft, "Simone Shredd, stand!"

The order was so forceful it was unexpected but he did as was ordered and came to his feet. He received another order from the Steward, "Your left hand!"

Slowly he held out the required body part and the Steward grabbed him by the wrist to pull his hand over the chalice and then very quickly used the blade of the sword to cut deep into the palm. Somehow there was no pain but blood flowed freely from Simone' wound and into the cup it hovered above until the other man had determined it was enough and let his hand go; and then, he wounded himself in a like manner, squeezing the blood into the chalice overtop the ashes of the written oath and then pulling it away before giving a nod to the cup-bearer whom stood. A second squire filled the chalice to the top with wine and then the first proffered the chalice to Benard. Benard sheathed his sword and then took the chalice in his good hand and drank deeply of the mixture before offering it to Simone, "Now drink!"

Slowly, with some reservation he took the Chalice and brought it to his mouth, seeing that only half of the contents remained he downed it all in one single pull and then afterwards with a signal from Benard turned the chalice upside down and held it aloft to display that it was no longer filled and the room erupted in applause that was soon silenced by the Steward, "Simone Shredd, we are now brothers by blood and by oath! I proclaim you a Knight of Tuetonia of the Order of the Golden Lions and command you too..." suddenly his voice changed from the subtle baritone to a loud and brash bass, "Wake up!"
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Simone startled awake and sat up so quickly he nearly bonked his head onto the bunk above him. What? Where was... it took a moment but the fog of sleep started to lift and he regained his faculties. He had been dreaming, a vivid dream that seemed as real to him then as this barrack room was now. He let out a grunt a the cold air brought him back to something resembling full consciousness and then kicked away his blanket and slid his feet to the floor, grabbing for a pair of breeches and a tunic he had left sitting on his footlocker to put over his small clothes, he pulled the breeches on and then stood up to check on his charge, "Annalise... Annalise are you awake?"

He pulled his shirt on and then began to comb out his hair with his fingers while waiting for a response.

[Saleon]

Alicia woke up from her quiet dream when a loud voice imploded cross the halls. If there was one thing people should have known by now is to not wake her in the midst of a happy dream. well, she came to expect idiots would wake her, but that didn't stop her from giving off a number of obvious clues that she was not a morning person. She stubbornly groaned, moaned, rattled, and turning as the realization it was morning came to her. She could have killed her waker right there, and had planned to, but he bolted onward to his next target. "morning people should die," she mumbled.

She got up a couple minutes later, having pondered how to best get revenge later. She meandered off of her bed and looked to see what she was wearing: nothing... but a nightgown. Alicia was not a lady of subtlety, or one to be dainty. She did not care who saw her--male or female-- at that instant as she slinked out of her gown, and put on more suitable clothes. No male has been stupid enough to try and peak at her for fear of their life. Her undergarments went under first, followed by a regal white dress shirt that seemed pressed clean. She put on a similarly white skirt with blue highlights. Next, she donned a blue jacket with a stylized bottom and white outlines. She beset upon her hand a rose signet ring upon her left hand, which signified her old ties, and to some respect to look back and see how far she came. She gave a quick look into the mirror to see that her long, white hair had remained straight and refined. After seeing no need for any vanities upon her face or lips, she put on a set of blue gloves, with red across the bottom half. Her white boots had been laced to her knee. Lastly, she stared into her Bharda, a pendant whose green gem had been stained with purple impurities.

The outfit had a certain grandiose bravado to it. Made of the finest materials and with the most delicate hands, it was fashioned to be a personalized model of the chevaliers for which her family had been famed for. They were skilled fighters, protecting the small lands that the Dufrischts owned, and stopping invaders. They were the elite knights which gave the family a passing mention in Horish circles. She clasped her sword which accompanied the chevaliers into battle, a long sword which took a certain agility to wield effectively. Said knights often wielded a small parrying dagger with it, as to catch people off guard, but, for a warder, real power came from the bharda and the magic she called from within her.

She gave a small smile when she was done, remembering what day it was at last. This smile could only be seen to others as if a harrowing phantom and gleamed at them, ready to kill or torment its captor. Her fingers tinged as they began to feel said captor. This fool had been inextricably linked by the magic of warder and mage. Her internal magics drew her toward him with ease. Alexander, was it? He would not last. The fool would die like all the rest. No mage could stay with her, as much as she thought. She hadn't always been so cold toward her partner, but after many apostates, she had become pessimistic towards them. This view jaded her, and is what came to drive what people view as an icy composure, a violent smile, and "the Old Guard," who sits stoically and will not falter to kill anyone who betrays her. Ironic, considering she was quite young.

Alicia finally saw him, in his foolishness, stood upright in front of Calder and Vivianna. His face had that ease to it, but never around Alicia. She was feared by him, and she liked that relationship. And so she stood next to him, as if a master standing by its pet.

[Agadar]

'Sir Roderick,' a boy's voice spoke from the other side of the door, followed by knocking. 'Sir Roderick?'

Roderick's eyes opened slowly. He sighed deeply. There was a soft stinging in his head, no doubt a result of the cask of mead he had shared with Calder and some of the other senior Warders the evening before.

He looked to his left. His mage companion, the half-elf Eleanor, was still sound asleep in her own bed.

'What is it?' Roderick replied to the boy outside of his apartment as he sat on the side of his bed. Being a senior Warder, Roderick and his companion had been assigned to a private living quarters, as opposed to sharing the barracks with the fresh recruits.

'Your presence is required in the courtyard, sir,' the boy answered. 'I've brought water, if you wish to freshen up first.'

Roderick touched his face. There was a layer of dried sweat on it.

'Come on in,' Roderick replied.

The door opened. A boy not older than fourteen entered the room, holding in his hands a wooden plate with a jug of water and a large bowl on it. Two small towels hung over his left arm.

'Put it over here,' Roderick said as he laid his hand on the side table next to his bed. The boy silently obliged, but couldn't help himself from taking a peek at the sleeping Eleanor on the other side of the room. Roderick did not fail to notice, and saw his chance.

'Don't be getting any ideas now,' Roderick said as he moved closer to the boy, as if revealing a deep, dark secret. 'Don't be deceived by her innocent appearance. This girl is one of the deadliest and most dangerous Mages in the world. Do you know what she was up to before I captured her? She used to seduce poor, foolish boys like you, making them feel confident and at ease. Then, she lured them deep into the darkest parts of the forest until they no longer knew the way back... and then she ripped their hearts right out of their chests!' As he said the last part, he grabbed the boy's shoulder tightly, giving him a mighty scare. It took all of the boy's courage not to let out a girlish scream.

Roderick chuckled good-heartedly, and tapped the boy's shoulder. 'I'm just kidding, lad,' he admitted. 'Come on, go tell the captain we'll be down there in a moment.'

'Y-yes sir,' the boy uttered, before evacuating the apartment with haste, closing the door behind him. Roderick watched the boy go. He seemed like a good kid, but Roderick wondered whether he would ever even have the chance to become a full member of the Grey Company: at the current rate, the Grey Company seemed to be on the verge of dissolvement. Disregarding the thought, Roderick stood up in front of the plate the boy had brought in. He poured some water into the bowl, and began freshening himself up.

'Rise and shine, princess,' he said to the snoozing Eleanor as he splashed water on his face. 'The captain's waiting for us.'

[Woodstovia]

Alexander suddenly grew very uncomfortable when his warder came and stood beside him, his normally relaxed composure becoming stiff and slightly awkward. "Morning Alicia." he managed. At least he could try and make an effort to be kind to her "What sort of training do people usually go through on their last day?" he whispered to her. He had been expecting an easy day of congratulations and feasts for completing his training.

[Finsternia]

Maria smiled as Featheris made her way to her side. "I hope so too." They have been newly assigned to one another, yet both of them have experience due to having partners prior to this. And both of them lost theirs. "Let us do our best today, shall we?" She smiled, her pale skin shining with the sun's light.

[Saint Morning]

Eleanor groaned as her eyelids slowly opened, revealing forest green eyes.

She yawned as she gradually sat up. The world around her a complete blur; Her eyes struggling to readjust to the light of the room.

“What could he possibly want with us at this time of the morning?” Eleanor inquired to her warder companion as she brushed a few locks of unruly hair behind her ear. She shifted slightly as she swung her legs off the bed, stood up, and promptly began to stretch.

She was currently garbed in a white, loosely fitting, sleeveless nightgown. She was perfectly comfortable wearing said attire despite being the company of a man; they had been together for so long that such shyness and foreboding between the two had long since vanished. However that didn’t mean that she was comfortable with others seeing her in such a state and would have truly reacted poorly if she had awoken to find another person in the room.

She made her way towards him, grabbing one of the towels. She briefly wondered where the man had gotten these items but decided rather quickly that he must have gotten up at some point to get them. She splashed some water onto her face, before wiping it away with the towel.

“Do you think were going to be sent on another mission today?” She questioned further as made her way towards a pile of neatly stacked clothing. Picking up a pair of clothing she glanced back at Roderick.

“Can you turn away for a second?” Sure they were close; but that didn't mean he would get to see her naked.

[Agadar]

“What could he possibly want with us at this time of the morning?” Eleanor inquired to her warder companion as she brushed a few locks of unruly hair behind her ear.

Roderick was splashing water under his armpits when Eleanor asked him the question.

'Not sure,' he replied. 'The guildmaster's letter only contained the order to come to Greysong without an explanation why, and yesterday evening's mead failed to loosen Calder's tongue on the subject.'

Roderick was just about done freshening himself up when Eleanor joined him.

“Do you think were going to be sent on another mission today?” She questioned further as made her way towards a pile of neatly stacked clothing.

'I hope so,' Roderick replied after drying his face. He walked over to his clothes and armor and began dressing himself. 'We've been getting pampered for almost a week now. I crave to be out in the wilds again, doing things worthy of a Warder and his companion.'

“Can you turn away for a second?” Sure they were close; but that didn't mean he would get to see her naked.

Roderick obliged without a word. In his hand he held a silver chain he had been given by the grandmaster several years ago, honoring him for his long and loyal service. He stared at it briefly, wiping away a small smidge with his finger, before putting it around his neck. He then fastened his cloak, the same kind every member of the Grey Company wore, before turning around again. Eleanor had already gotten dressed in the meantime.

'Give me a hand, will you?' he said. It was impossible for a knight to close and zip up his full battle gear all by himself. Usually, knights had squires to do this for them, but Roderick had already lost one too many squires to the dangers of the wild to keep one around. As a result, the role had befallen to Eleanor.

While Eleanor was helping him out, Roderick pondered about the recruits and whether they had what it took to revitalize the guild.

[The Warriors of the Sun]

Annalise immediately awoke with a startled jolt when the warder, Rah, shouted through the barracks. But she remained lying in bed as the majority of the others got ready. She still felt self-conscious when changing around the others, mostly because she was afraid of the majority of the members. She continued to remain on her bed, waiting for the noise to die down to signal that most of the others had left, but than she heard the voice of Simone asking if she was awake which she felt she couldn't ignore.

"Yes, I am awake," she said softly as she pulled her blanket back and slowly climbed out of the top bunk. She wore a long, white nightgown that covered most of her body. She quickly gathered the clothes she would be wearing today, the same clothing she wore everyday she expected training; a kosode, a Haori, bindings, her Hakama, and a pair of brown boots. All of it except for the boots she brought with her from her homeland in the far East. While she would much prefer to wear the fine dresses of this land that she had grown quite fond of, she quickly realized they were not practical for herself in training.

After getting her clothes she quickly returned to Simone's and Annalise's bunk to change. She felt uncomfortable changing, but there was no way around it, so she just hope if she couldn't see anyone no one could see her. She quickly took off her gown and revealed the innumerable amount of tattoos that covered her body and were the main cause of her self-consciousness. She attempted to quickly wrap her chest in bindings, but she realized as she did everyday the quicker she tried to wrap them the more she fumbled with them.

She took a deep breath to try to remove her angst and began to rewrap her bindings, much slower this time. And as she usually did each day, she reluctantly decided to talk to Simone, she hated to draw his attention to herself as she changed but it helped her to talk while performing this daily ritual around so many people. She was too afraid to look around and catch someone's vision while she was in such an indecent state so she just assumed he was still there and mumbled just loud enough for Simone to hear, "I am sorry for taking so long." She reflexively pulled the hair on her left side behind her pointed ear, an sign of her own embarrassment she unknowingly did.

[Imperialisium]

Alyria Avani'ya Krysteilovn'ya Valora

The soft textures of wheat hairs in full bloom for the harvest tickled the underside of her outstretched palm as a young woman slowly walked through a field of golden brown. Like a sea of pale brass that swayed with the soft flowing tides of the morning air. The lush green cliffs surrounding this sea of brass cast elongated shadows, a mysterious mountain range of shadow, stretching and gnawing their way across the clearing in a race to beat the Sun in some circular marathon. Never tiring, time the keeper of all, as it marched ever on.

The feeling of those tender bristles against the smoothness of her palms felt liberating. A connection between people, animals, and plants in one great chain of being. The swaying of their stalks twisting, twirling, flexing like dancers locked into position simply retracing their motions for all eternity. Their....

Eyelids shot open with a flutter. Her body was shaking, but not of her own free will, turning her head slowly she locked eyes with the man responsible. Her expression was anything but kindness to the regard of having been disturbed from such a blessed state of existence. 'Oh, how art thou done injustice, violator of thine dreams,' the thought shot across Aly's mind like a thunderbolt as she blinked after what seemed to be the longest second ever to be released by time. Turning back over Aly swung her feet from the bed, exposing a red night gown, wiping the sleep away she stood up with veritable grace as befits a lady. Stretching her lean and lithe body she looked about to see other members of the Company forming up and gathering their gear. Looking down at her knee length gown she grimaced and snapped her fingers. In a shimmer it was replaced by form fitting black and red garb. A corset attached to stockings and guarders ending in shoes capable of outdoor activities. Her jerkin and petticoat was cinched over her corset with a nice emerald brooch holding her red coat in place about her shoulders. Pulling out a comb she expertly, and rather seemingly, straightened the knots that had formed in her lush hair no human woman could possibly hope to achieve. Her face matched the quality of her hair, her body perfectly proportionate, and possessing high cheek bones and fair visage beyond that of human women. For she was not human, but of a rare creature, an Elf. Specifically from a group that referenced themselves as Firyadel or Fire Elves. Literally, "Elves of the Ancient Flame."

At that she gathered her personal affects which usually amounted to a small sword for more mundane defensive purposes, books, odds and ends to suit her craft, and of course her staff made out of red witchwood. Red Witchwood being only known to grow in her homeland of Avalon and it's large diamond crystal placed at the top served a purpose for channeling her powers.

Aly was a Magus, therefore exceedingly rare, and as such an already valuable asset. Comparatively Postulants and Magi where everyday occurrences when comparing the number of Maguses in the world. Only Malificar 's being rarer... and way less pleasant to meet. Firmly feeling the soft and lacquered wood in her hands she moved to place herself by Rah, and perhaps a little forward of him, making sure to bump into him slightly while holding a grin with her vermilion lips. Patiently scanning the room for her second Warder to join them.

Aly had a peculiar arrangement in regards to the typical Mage-Warder pairing. Mainly the fact instead of a pair she was part of a triplet scenario. Aly possessed two Warders, one being Rah who was the senior in terms of how long they'd been paired, and Dalinar who was attached to her by bonding after he had joined the Company. Aly looked about the room in keen interest, flashing her grey-blue eyes that possessed a slight heterochema in that one eye was noticeably lilac in tint while the other possessed a green under tone. Her eye's could be said to glitter like proverbial star light awash with an aurora of Northern lights in all their boundless hues.

Turning her head slightly to the right, to Rah so that he would hear her clearly, Aly spoke in her soft, smooth, possibly sultry voice, "Did you by chance assault Dalinar into wakefulness as well?" Aly's accent was noticeable from the start. Speaking with long 'A's and sharp S's that bordered on the phonology of pronouncing the letter 'Z'. Her W's further often came across as a soft 'V' and while she usually caught herself when speaking fast it was clear beyond a doubt she spoke Heartlander with a foreign knowledge on the language. However, when in the form of the written word, she was a master courtesy of her parents able to afford tutors. She could be employed as a professional scribe if she chose given her at least passing knowledge on several languages. Aly's choice of words was also careful. Her tone was playful, like a jab, and the reference to 'assault' clearly meaning the way Rah forcefully awakened her with a bit more force than necessary.

As she awaited for Rah's reply Aly raised her hand, grasped a strand of her pale golden hair almost the sheen of polished steel, and proceeded to twirl it in her slender index finger. A casual observant would think nothing of this habit, but being in her presence long enough you could notice that whenever Aly did not know what to say she proceeded to twirl her hair between fingers. A habit of social anxiety carefully hidden under a layer of chill demeanor? One would have to guess, for Aly would probably not answer, at least in such a manner as to be clear.

[Free Empire of the Low Isles]

Alyria Avani'ya Krysteilovn'ya Valora

The soft textures of wheat hairs in full bloom for the harvest tickled the underside of her outstretched palm as a young woman slowly walked through a field of golden brown. Like a sea of pale brass that swayed with the soft flowing tides of the morning air. The lush green cliffs surrounding this sea of brass cast elongated shadows, a mysterious mountain range of shadow, stretching and gnawing their way across the clearing in a race to beat the Sun in some circular marathon. Never tiring, time the keeper of all, as it marched ever on.

The feeling of those tender bristles against the smoothness of her palms felt liberating. A connection between people, animals, and plants in one great chain of being. The swaying of their stalks twisting, twirling, flexing like dancers locked into position simply retracing their motions for all eternity. Their....

Eyelids shot open with a flutter. Her body was shaking, but not of her own free will, turning her head slowly she locked eyes with the man responsible. Her expression was anything but kindness to the regard of having been disturbed from such a blessed state of existence. 'Oh, how art thou done injustice, violator of thine dreams,' the thought shot across Aly's mind like a thunderbolt as she blinked after what seemed to be the longest second ever to be released by time. Turning back over Aly swung her feet from the bed, exposing a red night gown, wiping the sleep away she stood up with veritable grace as befits a lady. Stretching her lean and lithe body she looked about to see other members of the Company forming up and gathering their gear. Looking down at her knee length gown she grimaced and snapped her fingers. In a shimmer it was replaced by form fitting black and red garb. A corset attached to stockings and guarders ending in shoes capable of outdoor activities. Her jerkin and petticoat was cinched over her corset with a nice emerald brooch holding her red coat in place about her shoulders. Pulling out a comb she expertly, and rather seemingly, straightened the knots that had formed in her lush hair no human woman could possibly hope to achieve. Her face matched the quality of her hair, her body perfectly proportionate, and possessing high cheek bones and fair visage beyond that of human women. For she was not human, but of a rare creature, an Elf. Specifically from a group that referenced themselves as Firyadel or Fire Elves. Literally, "Elves of the Ancient Flame."

At that she gathered her personal affects which usually amounted to a small sword for more mundane defensive purposes, books, odds and ends to suit her craft, and of course her staff made out of red witchwood. Red Witchwood being only known to grow in her homeland of Avalon and it's large diamond crystal placed at the top served a purpose for channeling her powers.

Aly was a Magus, therefore exceedingly rare, and as such an already valuable asset. Comparatively Postulants and Magi where everyday occurrences when comparing the number of Maguses in the world. Only Malificar 's being rarer... and way less pleasant to meet. Firmly feeling the soft and lacquered wood in her hands she moved to place herself by Rah, and perhaps a little forward of him, making sure to bump into him slightly while holding a grin with her vermilion lips. Patiently scanning the room for her second Warder to join them.

Aly had a peculiar arrangement in regards to the typical Mage-Warder pairing. Mainly the fact instead of a pair she was part of a triplet scenario. Aly possessed two Warders, one being Rah who was the senior in terms of how long they'd been paired, and Dalinar who was attached to her by bonding after he had joined the Company. Aly looked about the room in keen interest, flashing her grey-blue eyes that possessed a slight heterochema in that one eye was noticeably lilac in tint while the other possessed a green under tone. Her eye's could be said to glitter like proverbial star light awash with an aurora of Northern lights in all their boundless hues.

Turning her head slightly to the right, to Rah so that he would hear her clearly, Aly spoke in her soft, smooth, possibly sultry voice, "Did you by chance assault Dalinar into wakefulness as well?" Aly's accent was noticeable from the start. Speaking with long 'A's and sharp S's that bordered on the phonology of pronouncing the letter 'Z'. Her W's further often came across as a soft 'V' and while she usually caught herself when speaking fast it was clear beyond a doubt she spoke Heartlander with a foreign knowledge on the language. However, when in the form of the written word, she was a master courtesy of her parents able to afford tutors. She could be employed as a professional scribe if she chose given her at least passing knowledge on several languages. Aly's choice of words was also careful. Her tone was playful, like a jab, and the reference to 'assault' clearly meaning the way Rah forcefully awakened her with a bit more force than necessary.

As she awaited for Rah's reply Aly raised her hand, grasped a strand of her pale golden hair almost the sheen of polished steel, and proceeded to twirl it in her slender index finger. A casual observant would think nothing of this habit, but being in her presence long enough you could notice that whenever Aly did not know what to say she proceeded to twirl her hair between fingers. A habit of social anxiety carefully hidden under a layer of chill demeanor? One would have to guess, for Aly would probably not answer, at least in such a manner as to be clear.

Rah tilted his head, locking eyes with her again. "I did not." is all he said, his deep, yet strangely quiet voice drifting to her ears. He also spoke in his stilted version of Avalonian, as he was not yet certain in his grasp of Heartlander.

His eyes did not stay locked with hers, and started wandering about the field again, never seemingly resting on one thing for too long. He knew from his younger days that one did not need to ask questions to find answers, but merely needed to observe. Sadly, it would seem that the surprise that Calder had in store would remain that, a surprise.

Ibrahim's eyes landed on the Elf again. "How was your sleep?" he asks lightly, switching subjects to help her feel more at ease.

She was a magus, a very powerful magician, especially in comparison to Rah. And she was a... volatile one at that. If you combine magus, volatile, and nervous, it would not come out into a favorable outcome. So he sought to at least assuage her nerves.

[SaintB]

She took a deep breath to try to remove her angst and began to rewrap her bindings, much slower this time. And as she usually did each day, she reluctantly decided to talk to Simone, she hated to draw his attention to herself as she changed but it helped her to talk while performing this daily ritual around so many people. She was too afraid to look around and catch someone's vision while she was in such an indecent state so she just assumed he was still there and mumbled just loud enough for Simone to hear, "I am sorry for taking so long." She reflexively pulled the hair on her left side behind her pointed ear, an sign of her own embarrassment she unknowingly did.

Simone wasn't looking at her, involved in his own grooming rituals and pulling the tangle from his hair but he knew Annalise was busy combing hers over the ear and feeling embarrassed about being low to get out of bed, "No need to apologize Annalise." he answered her, being sure to keep his back toward the girl as he sat down to put on his boots, "You didn't sleep in. Some of the others are still in their bunks even."

He stood up from his sitting position and fished out a small mirror from his belongings to do a quick examination of his face. There was some stubble but it would be fine for training, he could have later before the banquet after the last day of work was done. He set the mirror on the bunk, "The mirror is available if you need it." he said and turned away again.

Simone was slowly getting used to how the poor girl acted; many years as a slave left her nervous and timid in most occasions and he had learned to treat her with kid gloves and spend most of his time doing his job at a distance. At the same time he tried to support her and build up her spirit... he felt almost like he was taking on the roll of a big brother.

[Saint Morning]

Roderick obliged without a word. In his hand he held a silver chain he had been given by the grandmaster several years ago, honoring him for his long and loyal service. He stared at it briefly, wiping away a small smidge with his finger, before putting it around his neck. He then fastened his cloak, the same kind every member of the Grey Company wore, before turning around again. Eleanor had already gotten dressed in the meantime.

'Give me a hand, will you?' he said. It was impossible for a knight to close and zip up his full battle gear all by himself. Usually, knights had squires to do this for them, but Roderick had already lost one too many squires to the dangers of the wild to keep one around. As a result, the role had befallen to Eleanor.

While Eleanor was helping him out, Roderick pondered about the recruits and they had what it took to revitalize the guild.

Eleanor rolled her eyes at her companion's plight; but decided to help him none the less.

“Honestly; I don’t know how you managed to do this before I came along,” She mused as she helped zip up his armor. “The poor squires probably had a hard time with you.” She wasn’t aware of the true reasoning she was the one who did this, nor this she asked, she was quite content with helping the man in any way that she could.

He did ,after all, help her escape imprisonment five years ago.

When she was done helping him, she took a step back to fully examined her Warder. However she found herself frowning slightly at the state of his hair. She picked up a comb that was resting on a nearby table and approached him; standing on her toes, as Roderick was in fact a few inches taller than her, her body pressed against his breastplate; she began to smoothed back his hair.

When she had decided that she had gotten it into a suitable state, she took a few steps and looked at him approvingly.

Clasping her hands together she joked “There! now you’re suitable to be seen in public with.”smiling brightly at her companion as she made her way to the door.

“Shall we?” She inquired;her hand on the door knob.

[Agadar]

When she was done helping him, she took a step back to fully examined her Warder. However she found herself frowning slightly at the state of his hair. She picked up a comb that was resting on a nearby table and approached him; standing on her toes, as Roderick was in fact a few inches taller than her, her body pressed against his breastplate; she began to smoothed back his hair.

Roderick allowed Eleanor to do her thing with his hair: during the five years they had been companions, he had gotten used to her quirky tendencies every now and then. He figured she had probably inherited them from her father's side, who had been an elf. Though, truth be told, Roderick hadn't met all that many elves in his life, let alone spend a lot of time with one. He actually had no idea what elves were like around those they trust. Were they all like Eleanor?

When she had decided that she had gotten it into a suitable state, she took a few steps and looked at him approvingly.

Clasping her hands together she joked “There! now you’re suitable to be seen in public with.”smiling brightly at her companion as she made her way to the door.

Roderick turned his head towards the single mirror in the chamber. He was a humble, down-to-earth kind of man, but having been raised a nobleman's son was taught that it didn't hurt to look presentable, especially when about to meet up with peers.

He gave himself a slight nod, approving of the order Eleanor had made out of the chaos on his head.

“Shall we?” She inquired;her hand on the door knob.

Roderick turned to her. She seemed eager to go. He supposed it was an exciting day. Or at least, a day during which they would be doing something else beside lollygagging in Greysong.

'Let's go,' Roderick said, and together the two made their way to the courtyard. Once there, Roderick glanced at the growing line of recruits as he walked towards Calder and Vivianna. Both of them were wearing their full armament. Today was going to be quite something indeed.

'Captain, lieutenant,' Roderick greeted politely. He usually greeted Calder by name, but when in an official setting such as this he deemed that improper.

Roderick turned to gaze upon the gathering recruits.

'What do you think?' he inquired, referring to the recruits.

[Quazin the Great]

Betzalel glared at the light that shone through the window, illuminating the room. He closed his eyes and lifted himself into a seated position, then opened them again and blinked a few times, taking a second to grudgingly adjust to his surroundings. “Last night as well,” Betzalel groaned, sluggishly pushing himself off the bunk, “I hope they don’t actually have dancing in mind. I was hoping for a mellow day. It’d be nice to relax for a bit before the real fun starts.”

Betzalel’s shadow churned and flowed as his partner left, rising from the floor and twisting about its owner, thickening and darkening into a tangible, opaque fabric that formed into a long billowing cloak. He took a deep breath, a futile attempt at waking himself up, and reached downwards, his fingers gripping the edge of a loose floorboard beside his bed. He carefully pried it loose and retrieved the two small objects hidden beneath before replacing the board.

The first was his focus, a small hollow bead, filled with only darkness and silence. The bead itself was plain and seemingly mundane, but it wasn’t the outside that mattered. He could feel what it contained, its shadows dark as a moonless night, its silence as though time itself had stopped.

The other was of his own make, and had more of a symbolic presence than anything else. It was a small gold coin, part of the profits of one of his heists years ago. It also happened to be the product of his first successful “stripping”, a technique of both shadow and silence based magic that involved forcibly removing an object's shadow, or in the much harder case, its silence. For this reason, it caught the light in a way that no coin should, sparkling even when no light shone. Also for this reason, the coin was loud, making noise when it shouldn’t and making louder noise when it should.

He flipped the coin before putting it in his pocket, smiling as it sung softly. He pocketed both objects, each in separate pockets that appeared on his makeshift cloak and then resealed themselves, cutting off the coin’s quiet hum.

Finished with his brief morning routine, Betzalel left the room and walked out to the courtyard where the others of Grey company stood. He took his place beside Marek, clasping his hand on the man’s shoulder in silent greeting, before making eye contact and nodding to Captain Calder and Viviana.

[The Starlight]

Dalinar Blackstone

Dalinar dreamt of day turning into night, the sun rising, and the sun falling. He saw flashes in his sleep, flashes of swords, of memories, and of Helena, his former love and Mage. And then, the last sight his mind conjured up before he awoke was of himself, using his Bharda to kill the corrupted Helena. His blue eyes with a hint of grey flashed open as he awoke, which occurred in part, due to his dream, or perhaps nightmare would be a better word to choose, and also in part to the curtains being drawn back, the sun shining forth.

He groaned, lifting a palm in a futile attempt to block the sunlight. Grumbling, he dressed into his armor and put on his equipment, his longsword, as usual, at his side. And then, grumbling some more as he went to join his partners in the yard, remembering fondly the days where he had been his own man, and had been free to wake up whenever he wished.

" 'Morning," he said in a neutral tone to Ibrahim and Alyria, running a hand through his midnight black hair. It was clear that he was not a morning person. He had a unique situation with the two of them, making them all a trio in the Mage-Warder partnership, as Alyria was a Magus, and keen to volatile and rash actions, so he had learned. He did not know them all too well, but he hoped that would change soon enough when they went on some missions together.

In a few minutes, the cold air had sufficiently awoken him, and his expression seemed to lighten a bit, as he murmured to no one in particular, "Wonder what they'l be having us do today."

[Imperialisium]

Alyria Avani'ya Krysteilovn'ya Valora

It was true, Alyria is a Magus, and does have a streak of letting her powers run with a sense of wild to them. That is not so say she is a loose canon, and she can remain in control for the vast majority of the time, but the more power she uses and in high stress situations or moments of emotional intensity her magic tends to manifest itself aggressively. But then again Magus tactically tend to be employed when overwhelming force is required so let that speak for itself.

Shooting daggers at Rah, via a sharp glance of her eyes, Alyria replied nonchalantly, "Well, up until the last few second's when I was violently abused." The last two words were not meant seriously, and more of Aly poking some jab at Rah for the way he purposely roused her out of sleep. Shifting her feet in patience she felt a presence approaching, a presence she knew, but at the same time was rather new for her to feel. It was Dalinar. Aly could sense like a gut feeling when Rah was close by, possibly even feel his most intense emotions when in close proximity, and that extended to when Alyra was bonded to Dalinar.

At Dalinar's greeting Alyria gave him a friendly wave followed by a small smile. Was it flirtatious? Probably. But did it hold some ulterior emotions or motives; definitely not. Alyria just was trying to make him feel welcome, she could sense after their bonding that he harbored intense guilt and regret. Alyria have never broached the topic nor inquired to Calder or anyone else on the subject. Technically she should since they are bonded and meant to work as a trio. However, Alyria felt that time and having a close friend may allow Dalinar to open up on his own.

Taking a side step closer to Dalinar, Aly, nudged him and whispered, "How are you? I can give you something to help you sleep if you require?" Alyria did know how to concoct some serums for sleep and even know magical means for that sort of thing.

[Free Empire of the Low Isles]

Rah had opened his mouth to reply to her verbal jab, of which it's purpose was not unknown, simply ignored, but was interrupted by the introduction of Dalinar. He, of course, closed his mouth. After which, he turned to Dalinar and gave a short nod in welcome.

"We... not... know." Rah slowly stuttered out, the Heartlander words murdered in his foreign tongue. "Believe... it is... surprise?" he said, looking at Aly for confirmation, knowing her to have a better grip on the language.

[Elerian]

Calder finished his leg massage just as the first of his soldiers began appearing. He nodded to each member as they approached, but Vivianna was only friendly to some, namely the other nobles. Calder gave her a scalding scowl, and she quickly changed her behavior. Calder waited for several more minutes before the rest of his Company had assembled, longer than he would have thought it would take.

Calder cleared his throat and took a step closer to his soldiers.

“Today is your last day of training, and you’ve all worked hard together to become a true fighting force, for that I commend you.” Calder’s deep gravelly voice was quiet, but carried well enough.

“But today, we will test not your ability to work as a team, but as a fighting force. Each Mage and their Warder will be dueling another Mage and their respective Warder.” Calder paused for a moment to let it sink in. They hadn’t done this before, and it was uncommon for trainees to be subjected to this. It was dangerous, but it gave them a taste of what real combat would feel like.

“For some of you this will be your first taste of combat, a bittersweet mistress I assure you, so hold nothing back. Because out there,” Calder pointed beyond the walls, “whatever it is we will face will surely not.”

Somewhere through Calder’s little pep talk the Grandmaster and some of his companions materialized on the keep’s balconies. Soon, they would surely be joined by other members of the Grey Company to enjoy the spectacle.

“Vivianna and I will be nearby should anything go wrong, but otherwise you must rely on the skills you’ve learned thus far to see you through this duel. We will begin with Marek and Belazel versus Simone and Annalise. Followed by Alicia and Alexander versus Faetheris and Maria. We will end with Linley and Sarnai versus Alyria and her two Warders.”

Calder pointed to a wall that held wooden sparring equipment, “Warders, select a weapon from among those and dip it in the red paint provided.” Directly adjacent to the weapon racks was a large drum of red paint.

“Proceed to one side of the yard, and when both parties are ready we will begin. Best of luck to all of you.”

Vivianna proceeded to the other side of the yard to act as a referee of sorts. Calder glanced up at the Grandmaster, whose face was a mask of emotion. Calder let out a long breath and thought let's get this over with.