Saun 18th, 716 - Morning
They smell. They reek. They’re mostly men … the Iron Hand!
The call to arms radiated through the capital falling the death of the queen, rumors flew with the wind and many an able-bodied man suddenly took an interest in patriotic and blind warcraft. Her goal from Labrae was to besmirch the name of the queen … it seemed that the world had other plans, and she’d noticed a paradigm shift of some sort. Things were becoming more tough, and she had to build some mettle … Vera had worked it out, she’d become a squire and spend less time with the Seekers. There would still be time for her career as a Psychologist, but perhaps this was more important … physical skills. Her mind was sharp, her wit the tip of a blade.
When she joined, she was interviewed, identified, and given her status symbol as a citizen of Rynmere now a squire - a white-black tunic that matched her hair, scrunching up her small breasts and leaving her looking almost flat-chested. It was padded, too … it weighed a lot. Just moving around in the thing was taking awhile for her to get used to, and hers was brand new due to the increased production. Many other squires were given used ones, so the one she wore needed to be broken in.
Following an introductory ceremony, Vera was shown her quarters within the barracks … she had on-off days, some days she worked, some days she trained. All she knew, was that she had to learn, to become something entirely different from herself. And still, she stood back while young boys sparred, a wooden dagger from the training rack tucked into her belt. She’d positioned herself next to a shed, leaning against it so few could see her as she watched the men fight. Such things weren’t her forte, this was going to take getting used to.
Her face bore a slightly cowed look, and she practically winced when an older teen with a thick wooden longsword thwacked it against the forehead of his sparring partner. The younger boy was decked to the ground, people rushed over to help, and pull him away from the training area so more could spar. She needed someone closer to her level of experience to feel things out with first … or maybe she should just jump in? In any case, Vera walked right up to the edge of the sparring pits and glanced around at all the bustling males, spotting a solitary female who seemed much too busy.
I never thought being a squire would be so … vibrant.
They smell. They reek. They’re mostly men … the Iron Hand!
The call to arms radiated through the capital falling the death of the queen, rumors flew with the wind and many an able-bodied man suddenly took an interest in patriotic and blind warcraft. Her goal from Labrae was to besmirch the name of the queen … it seemed that the world had other plans, and she’d noticed a paradigm shift of some sort. Things were becoming more tough, and she had to build some mettle … Vera had worked it out, she’d become a squire and spend less time with the Seekers. There would still be time for her career as a Psychologist, but perhaps this was more important … physical skills. Her mind was sharp, her wit the tip of a blade.
When she joined, she was interviewed, identified, and given her status symbol as a citizen of Rynmere now a squire - a white-black tunic that matched her hair, scrunching up her small breasts and leaving her looking almost flat-chested. It was padded, too … it weighed a lot. Just moving around in the thing was taking awhile for her to get used to, and hers was brand new due to the increased production. Many other squires were given used ones, so the one she wore needed to be broken in.
Following an introductory ceremony, Vera was shown her quarters within the barracks … she had on-off days, some days she worked, some days she trained. All she knew, was that she had to learn, to become something entirely different from herself. And still, she stood back while young boys sparred, a wooden dagger from the training rack tucked into her belt. She’d positioned herself next to a shed, leaning against it so few could see her as she watched the men fight. Such things weren’t her forte, this was going to take getting used to.
Her face bore a slightly cowed look, and she practically winced when an older teen with a thick wooden longsword thwacked it against the forehead of his sparring partner. The younger boy was decked to the ground, people rushed over to help, and pull him away from the training area so more could spar. She needed someone closer to her level of experience to feel things out with first … or maybe she should just jump in? In any case, Vera walked right up to the edge of the sparring pits and glanced around at all the bustling males, spotting a solitary female who seemed much too busy.
I never thought being a squire would be so … vibrant.
