Officer Lay Z. leads you in through the gate at the front. To your front is an inner tower. It is at least 5 stories. He tells you the first floor is the mess hall, the second floor is the Norms Quarters The third floor has quarters for Unit Leaders, and low-ranking Officers. The forth is for the high ranking officers and General General. The fifth and final floor is for the Warden.
Billy quietly followed along with the others. He wasn't sure what was going on, but his mother had always told him to stay calm, so he tried his counting exercises. "1, 2, 3, 4, 5. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5."
Zathan remains motionless as the others begin to move until, just in time to fall into place at the end of the line, he and the cat at his feet share a look, and in perfect unison, begin to follow the others. Other than this, the boy looks straight forward, his face showing no reaction and his eyes almost entirely unblinking.
Winst shrugs off the immediate separation between the group. Seven applied, four will be rejected and potentially bitter. He gets a half smile, thinking this is going to be interesting if nothing else.
He nods to the guy who had spoken, then falls in line. Looking over his fellow Norms, he wonders who in the hell would buy of us like this, for that amount. Thinking about it and watching all he can is all he's willing to do about it though... at the moment.
Runt meanders along with the group looking somehow nonchalant and tense at the same moment, her permanent scowl etched on her face. She starts looking around for weaknesses in the defense, her tactical bent on overdrive.
@Legit
What do the defenses look like from the inside and outside? Was this meant to be defensible or is it just a training camp? Do the guards look like they are keeping things out or in or both?
Officer Lay Z. leads all of you into the first floor. It is a large open room with tables. In the back there is a small stairway up to the next floor and a door labeled Kitchen. There are several men dressed similar to officer Lay Z.
A short man walks up to your group and says So you lot are the new agents? How do you plan to do anything without your weapons?
@Runt there are plenty of defenses. There are piles of large stones on the outer wall that can be dropped to impede an oncoming army. The outer wall has arrow slits.
Runt perks up when the man says that and for the first time his scowl turns into a grin.
"I ain't plannin' on nothin'. The tools over there are going to do all the plannin'. If you say we be needin' weapons, then I'll take a small 'fal'.Maybe some javelins or even better a repeating crossbow? How about armor? Got anything that'll fit me?"
Runt cracks her knuckles as he says this.
Uninterested in working as a leader, Shogunto follow with the others with Lay Z. When the short man finally asks about weapons, the Human replies slowly.
As my colleague mentioned... I could use a suit of armor. Something light, probably, would be better. As for weapons, anything simple. Even just a spear would fit me fine.
Although his voice is humble, it's fairly clear he doesn't tremble. His behavior has something more controlled, calculated; his hands don't shake, but his fingers seem to snap in every gesture he makes. He looks deeply in the officer's eyes, and something about the frail young man seems to spell danger. It's not comfortable to be on his presence.
Zathan continues to show no reaction. The cat yawns widely, revealing its large, sharp teeth. He'll pick weapons and armor if given the chance, but is not as eager as the others.
That guy has the stare of someone who has been a warrin' and lost somethin' along the way. I wonder what good he's going to be. Probably be goblin meat before long.
"Ta tell ya th'truth, I ain't done much in the ways of plannin' at all. Don't rightly know what ta plan for. Soundin' like strappin some steel might be necessary, I s'pose."
Winst scratches his neck then nods toward Silas As he said... or I think at least he said... can't tell you what we are planning without knowing what you all are planning for us. Guy here said we were headed to lunch.
"Mister, I'm not really sure why I'm here. My mommy told me to go with those men, and then the genral said something about us being sold? Can I just go home now?"
as he speaks, the room heats up noticeably.
The man backs away quickly. Lay Z. sighs. Look kid, we've all been in your position before. The best way to get over it is a nice big bowl of soup.
An elvish woman erupts from the Kitchen. Why didn't anyone tell me we were getting cadets today? She yells. She is short for her race, however her bearing seems to tower over everyone else in the room. She turns to the man who just questioned you about the weapons. Stewart! You would have known, so why didn't you tell me? This calls for a feast! And with that, she retreats quickly to the kitchen. Through the door you can hear her yelling to prep cooking fires.
Kid. If we're slaves or something, they'd not be talking about feasts. And if we're not slaves, sooner or later you'll be able to go back, if you want to then, that is. Winst pulls up a seat at one of the tables. Might as well eat something til then, don't you think?
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Brayden had entered the tower along with the others, being careful not to draw too much attention to himself. Who knows what is in store for us... he thought to himself as they gathered within.
After the short man's initial question and the others' responses, Brayden was about to chime in when the kitchen maid burst in. A Name, so these are still people.
Leaning down toward the smaller man, "Stewart, was it? You ask us about armaments but we were not permitted to bring possessions. That said, I trust you are here to equip us so we can face... whatever challenges lie before us? As for me, I have some militia training and am capable with most arms, though prefer a good stout axe to most others. A bow would do me well as well. And armor, something to keep this body protected so I can put my muscles to use. Can you help with that?"
I'll get you your stuff. You should enjoy your meal and then go watch the Training Camp first. Temma only makes a feast on very select occasions. Stewart says.
"Okay, I'll eat something. That's prolly a good idea. My name isn't kid, it's Billy."
As the smell of food begins to waft through the room, the cat sniffs the air and and licks its chops. It looks up at Zathan, and toward the kitchen, and back to Zathan, expectantly. Zathan continues his stoic stance until the cat begins to paw at his leg. His eyes flash down to the cat. Zuò. he says. Then, as if it never happened, the boy returns to his rigid pose. The cat huffs, lowers its haunches to the floor, and drops its head.
Runt is waiting for the catch, but a gal's gotta eat and she obediently (for now) heads to the mess hall with the others.
Billy then. not kid. Winst is mine. He'll look around at the others, seeing if the others offer names, but not put out if they don't.
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Brayden reaches out his hand toward Stewart, tentatively offering a hand shake. "Much appreciated sir."
Turning to the others who are introducing themselves, he looks from the small, blonde teen up toward the tall redhead, repeating their overheard names to confirm he has them correct. "Billy... Winst... I am Brayden. Suppose we should get to know each other a bit, seeing as how we've been thrown together." With that he gestures towards a table before moving to sit down.
Shogunto followed with the others, shaking his head in agreement. Finally, seeing some of the other recruits introducing themselves, he did the same.
Shogunto. - he said, bumping on his chest and making a friendly nod with his head.
"Call me Runt, but keep the jokes to yourself."
She plops herself down at the table and starts digging in if the food is there, or waiting if not. If there are forks she ignores them and uses her hands.
"Silas T. Stagg. Right pleased ta meet y'all."
Winst looks over to their one remaining "recruit", seeing if he's going to continue with the introductions, though thinking it's not likely.
Shrugging, a gesture he seems very familiar with, he answers Brayden, Might not be worth it til we know what unit, and what "leader" the word betrays more than a hint of disdain, ... we're stuck with. The whole getting to know each other thing I mean.
"I'm still not sure why I'm here. So far it's not too scary though. I hope we don't have to move around a lot."
The heat in the room continues to rise some. At this point, it's probably 15-20 degrees hotter in this room than outside of it.
When all of the others have introduced themselves and attention turns to him, Zathan at first is silent, then intones in a low, heavily-accented voice, "Zay-tahn." emphasizing the second syllable.
Winst nods at Zathan.
Then asks the kid, Billy... do you got control over whatever you're doing, or should we sit at another table? he says matter of fact, no malice or compassion really, just a question.
At this point, serving girls (Humans, Half-Elves, and Elves) come from the kitchen. The first few bring bowls of soup and spoons. They are quickly followed with several platters containing cooked chickens sitting on a bed of cooked onions, peppers, and potatoes.
Temma walks out of the Kitchen as the girls are filing back in. What can I get you to drink? She asks.
At this point Runt is openly gaping.
Servin' girls? Meat AND potatoes AND vegetables AND soup? I've died. That must be it. I've died and gone to... Well, some place I certainly did not deserve to go to. Damn. Just think of all those idiots prancin' about tryin' to be good little boys and gals so they can go to heaven! And here I am. Huh. Lamashtu is OK in my book.
"Say, you got any whiskey? Good stuff?"
Doesn't hurt to make sure.
"Whatcha mean mister Winst?"
Billy seems uneffected by the heat, not even sweating.
It's warm around you, no worse than a forge, but still... something, don't know what. Anything's good, thanks. he tells the girls, then starts to eat.
For just the briefest moment, surprise flashes across Zathan's face, before returning to his stony mask. Wa-tar. And a bowl for Jjagir, please. he says, indicating the man-sized feline at his feet without making eye contact.
They bring out mugs of ale, whisky, beer, and water. (water for the cat, too). They keep the alcoholics in low supply however, and move them away from the younger members of the group.
Runt dives in like a starving goblin, eyeing the others as if they were competitors rather than compatriots, which, in her mind, they are. Old habits die hard, even in heaven.
Shogunto drinks some water in silence, for times closing his eyes to think.
"Now this right-chere is a bonafide feast. Yes, sir, bo-na-fide. The whiskey's OK for flatlander whiskey."
Runt has never had whiskey. She just heard it is good stuff. Never had anything that burned like that, but she is sure enjoying it. Treating it more like water than the respect it deserves. Other than loud smacking noises she is not saying much. Fortunately at the rate she consumes her food it does not take long before she is unable to continue and she subsides into a somnolent bliss and the rest of you can eat in peace without her repeated attempts to snatch any food someone has eyes on before they can get to it first.
It is VERY possible that her 'heaven' might turn on her come morning, in spite of the precautions the servers are taking.
Winst watches in owe at the self proclaimed Runt mows down the food. Then remembers to eat himself, enjoying it fine, sticking to water as the drink. Then waits.
After the meal is enjoyed, Officer Lay Z. announces that it is time to go to Training Camp. He leads the way out of the back of the ARA Headquarters, into the forest behind the complex. The path is small, but the sun shining overhead provides enough light to get by easily. Eventually, you come to a large clearing. The majority of the clearing is a pit full of sand. The sides of the pit are lined with several rows of stone seats. Standing in the center of the pit is General General, along with the Unit Leader wannabes.
"Camping is fun! My daddy and I went once. There was a forest fire though, so we had to leave early."
Runt waddles along and waits to see what the next delight is going to be.
Ooohh! Maybe some blood sport!
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Still uncertain of the context of everything, Brayden appreciatively accepts the food and a mug of ale then begins eating. Dragged from our homes for a sack of coins akin to slaves, yet now we are welcomed with open arms and honest hospitality, what is all this?
The thoughts continue to play in his head as Officer Lay Z ushers them out the door and into the woods. Where to now, I wonder... Emerging into the clearing, Brayden's lips part, "An arena? Are we to fight each other?" He realizes his thoughts have escaped his mouth just as the last word slides off his tongue. Damn, I will likely pay for that. He bites his lip in frustation, awaiting what may come next.