Ist day of spring, 514 AV
Upon his acceptance into the order Bitt was guided deeper into the stronghold. His destination was one of the squire dormitories. It was a relatively small room that contained three beds and some other modest furniture. Apparently he was the only occupant of this particular dorm for now so he could choose any bed he wished; not that there was any real difference between the three. Still, he chose the bed closest to the door and placed what meagre possessions he had brought with him into the chest at the foot of it.
Bitt was told to wait patiently for he would soon be introduced to his patron. He had inquired further and discovered that his patron would be the knight that taught him all the skills he would need to ascend into knighthood. Would he learn magic? As Bitt sat waiting he took a loaf of bread from his travel pack and began to munch idly. Apparently his meals would be taken care of while he was here so the food he had on his person was extra. Regardless, it had been a long morning and he was feeling hungry.
Chimes turned into bells and there was still no sign of Bitt's patron. Perhaps they were having difficulties finding one for him. Maybe nobody wanted to be his patron. The thought made Bitt panic for the briefest of moments before he realised how foolish it was. He had already been accepted into the order; they would find someone for him. Almost as if on queue it was then that the door to the dormitory swung open. Bitt jumped to his feet and found himself face-to-face with the Syliran Knight who would be his patron. At least, that was the conclusion Bitt came to given the circumstances.
The knight wasn't wearing the heavy plate typical of the order; he was wearing the lighter alternative. He had hard eyes and a full beard that was probably once very dark; now it boasted a speckled salt-and-pepper colouring. The man's presence was imposing and his gaze was all encompassing. In his right hand he held a large quarterstaff. A small flash of recognition spread across both the knight's face as well as the squire's. This was the knight who had saved Bitt's life.
Crowe had only recently returned to the citadel and he was already being assigned a new squire. Crowe was actually quite pleased with this turn of events. A fresh new mind to sculpt would take up a lot of his time; he wouldn't be sent off on another long mission any time soon. He had been informed about the existence of his new squire, a boy apparently, relatively quickly after the lad had passed the scrutiny of old Ser Erik. Crowe's mouth upturned slightly as he thought that the man must be going soft. It was rare that the veteran would turn applicants away nowadays.
Crowe could have gone straight to the boy's dormitory, but he didn't. Better to let the lad wait. One of the disciplines Crowe would try to teach his squires was patience and there was no better time to start than the present. He spent a few bells tidying up his quarters and considering how he would train this particular squire. He had a few methods in mind. A small smirk made its way onto Crowe's face. His new squire was going to hate him. Speaking of which, he had probably let the boy suffer enough. Crowe grabbed his staff and headed for the squire dormitories; it was time for an introduction.
Crowe swung open the door to the lad's dormitory. The boy was young, that much was clear; he had jumped up from his bed and turned to face Crowe. A big lad too, that was good. Ha! Now that's a fierce expression the lad has! I like that, lots of fire. He kind of looks like... realisation struck. This boy was on the same ship Crowe had been on. So? See a knight fling some magic around and now you want to learn too ey? Crowe misunderstood the situation, but his first impression of Bitt had declined somewhat. Still, old Ser Erik saw potential in the boy so he would do his best to find it.
"What's your name lad!"
Upon his acceptance into the order Bitt was guided deeper into the stronghold. His destination was one of the squire dormitories. It was a relatively small room that contained three beds and some other modest furniture. Apparently he was the only occupant of this particular dorm for now so he could choose any bed he wished; not that there was any real difference between the three. Still, he chose the bed closest to the door and placed what meagre possessions he had brought with him into the chest at the foot of it.
Bitt was told to wait patiently for he would soon be introduced to his patron. He had inquired further and discovered that his patron would be the knight that taught him all the skills he would need to ascend into knighthood. Would he learn magic? As Bitt sat waiting he took a loaf of bread from his travel pack and began to munch idly. Apparently his meals would be taken care of while he was here so the food he had on his person was extra. Regardless, it had been a long morning and he was feeling hungry.
Chimes turned into bells and there was still no sign of Bitt's patron. Perhaps they were having difficulties finding one for him. Maybe nobody wanted to be his patron. The thought made Bitt panic for the briefest of moments before he realised how foolish it was. He had already been accepted into the order; they would find someone for him. Almost as if on queue it was then that the door to the dormitory swung open. Bitt jumped to his feet and found himself face-to-face with the Syliran Knight who would be his patron. At least, that was the conclusion Bitt came to given the circumstances.
The knight wasn't wearing the heavy plate typical of the order; he was wearing the lighter alternative. He had hard eyes and a full beard that was probably once very dark; now it boasted a speckled salt-and-pepper colouring. The man's presence was imposing and his gaze was all encompassing. In his right hand he held a large quarterstaff. A small flash of recognition spread across both the knight's face as well as the squire's. This was the knight who had saved Bitt's life.
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Crowe had only recently returned to the citadel and he was already being assigned a new squire. Crowe was actually quite pleased with this turn of events. A fresh new mind to sculpt would take up a lot of his time; he wouldn't be sent off on another long mission any time soon. He had been informed about the existence of his new squire, a boy apparently, relatively quickly after the lad had passed the scrutiny of old Ser Erik. Crowe's mouth upturned slightly as he thought that the man must be going soft. It was rare that the veteran would turn applicants away nowadays.
Crowe could have gone straight to the boy's dormitory, but he didn't. Better to let the lad wait. One of the disciplines Crowe would try to teach his squires was patience and there was no better time to start than the present. He spent a few bells tidying up his quarters and considering how he would train this particular squire. He had a few methods in mind. A small smirk made its way onto Crowe's face. His new squire was going to hate him. Speaking of which, he had probably let the boy suffer enough. Crowe grabbed his staff and headed for the squire dormitories; it was time for an introduction.
Crowe swung open the door to the lad's dormitory. The boy was young, that much was clear; he had jumped up from his bed and turned to face Crowe. A big lad too, that was good. Ha! Now that's a fierce expression the lad has! I like that, lots of fire. He kind of looks like... realisation struck. This boy was on the same ship Crowe had been on. So? See a knight fling some magic around and now you want to learn too ey? Crowe misunderstood the situation, but his first impression of Bitt had declined somewhat. Still, old Ser Erik saw potential in the boy so he would do his best to find it.
"What's your name lad!"
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