Location Syliran Order Recruitment Office

[Sagitta]

"Ser Stanton Alber," Sagitta echoed softly. She wondered what the man is like and if he would pleased that she had been assigned to him. Probably not. The Ethaefal was not exactly knightly in her physique, with her slender and slight figure. Neither did she has the skill. Well, that was why she was here, wasn't it?

"Thank you, Ser. Now, should I find Ser Stanton or maybe do something else?"

[Wrenmae]

Taking a deep breath, and then doing so again, Zan coughed and took a few moments composing himself. When he had finally calmed enough to speak again, he offered a bright smile and hopped from one foot to the other.

He found that keeping consistent movement helped dispel his nerves.

"Well, ser," he seemed to think about it, weighing what he could say to the kindly knight, "I've seen too much of the world, ya know? Too much of people taking advantage of others, too much of chaos, too much of pain and suffering. I just, ya know, want to help people out for a change. I know that my partner doesn't feel the same, so I wanted to strike on my own...see if I couldn't do a bit of good for you shiny-skins and the city of Syliras. People seem so calm here, happy, safe, it's something I kinda want to preserve."

He shrugged again, bobbing his shoulders at least five times, enamored with the movement, before continuing.

"Weeeeeell. I was born to a lovely mother-father many cycles ago on my homeworld Fyreden. Spending most of my time mostly burning in the light side of my world, I struck a deal with a mage from your world to come onto Mizahar. This was...several seasons ago. Since then I've been out and about lots of Mizahar, tried to fight gods, lost...as you can imagine, and finally found myself here. I know I'm not a traditional fleshli-erm, recruit...but I want to join, I want to help, and I dunno if anyone can help me do that."

He looked sheepishly down at his hands, waving them like limp fish.

"This isn't even my real form, but I find it tends to relax the waters a little when trying to make first impressions." Zan frowned and then tried to smile, hopefully.

"What do you say shiny-man? Can I settle in with the big guys here, or should I be told that you require permanent arms and legs to defend justice?"

[Accolade]

Sagitta

"That will do it for you here. I think I have what I need from you. I'm sure that Ser Stanton Alber will have his own questions for you to answer. You may find him in the market I believe, if not try his quarters in the Knights chambers. Off with you now."

Zan

This was surely a strange man, Erik thought. Must be the son of a farmer. Of course, this was until he said Fyreden, and told of how he came to live in this world. "A familiar I see. And..where is this mage now? Does he know that you are here?" One could not exist without the other, Erik knew this, so it was important to know of the relationship of the two.

[Wrenmae]

Zan shuffled his feet a bit and frowned. He'd talked to Wren about joining the Knights, but the mage had been against the idea. Now he had gone on his own to see if they even wanted him and once again he was being asked to pull ole stick in the mud Wren with him.

Tied by life, tied by death, destinies entwined...maybe he should just give up.

His entire demeanor seemed to sink, rapidly depressed with the thought that this had all been a waste of time.

"Well...ser..." If he lied he'd be no better than Wren.

"No, my partner doesn't really support me being here. He seems to think we're better off on our own traveling around and stuff, but that isn't what I want, right? I want to help people and save folks and be a shiny-skin like you or..."

He trailed off and shrugged,

"I'm wasting my time here...aren't I, ser? You know what I am so you know the drill. One life to another, one death to another...we have different ideas of how to live and what to do and I finally have the power to make my own decisions."

He offered the knight a smile, but it was a shadow of his earlier excitement.

"I just want a chance..." He finished, "Can't I be treated less like a wizard's accessory and more like...I dunno, a fleshling? Erm...a person?"

[Accolade]

While Ser Erik could see that Zan was seeking something for himself, he could also see where the troubled lied in this. Zan was a familiar, and while the people of Syliras didn't out right hate them, the Order simply didn't trust them. By his own admission there was trouble between Zan and his mage bond and that could also cause trouble.

"Yes, I am afraid the order can't use you. There is simply too much unknown and you would be unreliable Zan, there is no way around it. "

[Wrenmae]

Perhaps it was by virtue of Zan's limited understanding of how to express emotions, but the smile remained on his face throughout the short but brutal refusal for his services. While his face held no discerning revelation of his feelings, his shoulders sagged forward and his eyes found perch anywhere else but the Knight.

"Unreliable? I...erm...sir, you don't know me. I want to help, I'm offering to do it...I just, ya know, just want a chance..."

He trailed off, throwing his hands out only for them to fall dejectedly at his side.

"I have tried to do the right things, stand for something better, be something more...I thought surely I could...I mean, I defended one of yours against R-"

Enough, Zan.

Wren's voice in his head was a sobering punch in what he only assumed was where humans kept their pain, you know, in the center of the stomach where breath lived

No. No. NO. I want to help, I want to be a Knight! I could do well! I could be an asset! I could stop people like-

Me? Stop people like me Zan? Look at him. That man knows nothing about me and he's already decided you weren't worth his effort. You could hypnotize him, possibly, but would that be any better than myself? Wake up, Sarawanki, Syliras is a city suffused in its own self righteousness. They reward your honesty with derision, your earnestness with denial. Did they ask you in what ways you could serve? Did they offer to have you talk to other Knights? Do they weigh you by your merit? No. This is the Syliras I know, Zan. It's a place that has grown lazy and cruel, especially to those who simply wanted to help...like yourself.

I...But...

Come home, Zan. Don't waste your time.

"Ser, please, if you'll just give me a chance I-"

Zan. It's enough. They'll never accept the likes of you.

But I can help them...I...

You are not one of them, Zan. And that is all he wants.


Zan's shoulders slumped forward and he almost fell to his knees. It was as if the very spark of whimsy he'd grasped for so long as crushed in the callous judgement of the Knights. Had he not stood in front of a God, trying to defend Imass? Had he not tried to do the right thing?

But this man knew nothing of that, and simply dismissed him...

"Of course, ser," Zan nodded his head in the gesture of respect he'd seen others use before, "I am sorry for wasting your time."

And somewhere else in Syliras, Wren steepled his fingers together and allowed himself the smallest of smiles.

Syliras had done what he could never have done.

Crushed Zan's rebellious ambition.

All that was left was to give him a new cause to fight for, Wren's cause...and all would be well at last.

[Sagitta]

The girl could not help but smile. She had thought that they might not want her because she was completely inexperienced, but here she was, assigned to a knight. Sagitta muttered a quick thank you and left. She was giddy with excitement, nearly forgetting her whole indecision earlier.

One step closer to finding out the truth. Hopefully, hopefully, someone knew something. Sagitta still had a hard time considering the idea. Maybe, maybe, her brother was here, living his dream. That smallest sliver of hope was enough and now, all she needed to do was find the knight called Stanton Alber.

[Marrick Corvis]

Winter 2nd 513 AV Marrick walked on two legs into the recruitment office of the Sylirian knights. He felt the nervousness in his heart crackle across his skin like lightning in the night. The Kelvic was unsure of where he would go in this world. He had been a slave for his whole life. All two years of it. Still he had spent the end of a day and a full evening contemplating his fate. At last he had his own will, and his own choices to make, and all he wanted to do was run to the security of being part of a group. He wasn’t ready to take the world on. He wasn’t ready to be on his own. He needed someone to tell him what to do, where to go. The idea itself gave him a warm feeling of comfort. The kind charity of the knights of Syliras had provided him with some of the clothes from the slavers cart and a measure of its wealth. He could have left the city. Gone anywhere he wanted, yet all he desired at this moment, was to repay the kindness of the brave men and women who had given him his freedom. The irony was almost palpable. He trod softly as he entered. He was unsure of how to proceed with asking to join the ranks of the knights of Syliras. Though, he had no illusions that they would outfit him with mount and blade simply because he asked. Marrick knew he was not ready for responsibility of a command, but he wanted to help any way he could, and he didn’t really know how. He was sure the Syliran Knights would at least give him some sort of direction. The stone floor was cold, and his wrappings didn’t provide much in the way of insulation. He almost wished to be in his Raven form at that moment. However, it had been good to stretch out. He had forgotten how fragile his human form was in contrast to his Raven form. His body was heavier and stronger, yet he found he was hungry all the time. And the cold was always with him. His random ponderings were abandoned briefly as he stopped before a large painting of a man dressed all in ornate armor. He looked to be a middle aged, tall and strong. His face seemed as though he carried a great burden upon his shoulders. ‘Grim’ Marrick thought to himself. The brass plate at the base of the frame read Grandmaster Loren Dyres in common. The clever Kelvic tried to believe that the painting was the man, but for all the fake men he knew in Ravok his heart told him that the man was likely, just a man. The clever pale blue eyes of the Kelvic had seen enough of the life sized painting of the man who was responsible for making Syliras possible. He turned and strode further into the main room of the recruitment office. A large fire crackled in the fire place giving the room a measure of warmth. He could only imagine squires or pages would bring the wood for the man he had come to meet. An Erik Rainstrom, if he hadn’t misunderstood the Knights words. The office was sparsely decorated, save for the simply carved wooden desk that a human man sat behind. Marrick watched him a moment, his head cocked slightly to one side as he listened to his quill scratching at the parchment. The man himself seemed as if he had survived being mauled. He had worse scars than many men Marrick had seen before. The Kelvic was not sure if it was one thing or the sum of the many that made this old Knight seem stubborn to survive. The little Raven inside him liked this man immediately.

[Accolade]

Ser Erik had become much busier in the passing days. Once the word got out that the recruitment office had reopened, people were coming more by the day. He sat at his desk as he finished up another form and noticed through motions that someone had arrived. They didn't say anything which made him wonder what they could possibly want. "Yes, you there in the door. Is there something you needed?"

[Marrick Corvis]

OOC : Sorry for not posting a time stamp. It is fixed in the above post. And I put it here too. Winter 2nd 513 AV The old knight was very aware for one of advanced age, and the little Kelvic made a mental note to be more straight-forward with him. “Aye, forgive the intrusion Ser.” He spoke soflty in his Ravok slave accent. “Moy name is Marrick Corvis, a pleasure ta meet ye Ser.” The Kelvic stepped forward purposefully and gave the venerated knight a shallow bow. “I-“ his voice caught in his throat as he was not confident in his words. He knew he wanted to join up, but how to pose it to this man of such experience. What was it that Gypsy always told him? The truth will set you free? The nervousness made him uncomfortable to the point where he lowered his head and rubbed the back of his neck. Lying was something a slave would do to prevent a lashing. However, this man with his kind eyes and survivors heart held no whip or shackles. The Kelvic gathered himself and started again. “I was one o the number a’ slaves recently liberated on the Kabrin Road, on the farst of this season.” He took a deep breath as he remembered his day of freedom. “That day, was a tarning point in moy loife.” He emphasized the words ‘in my life’ annunciating slowly, giving them weight. He lowered his eyes to the floor thinking of his frozen cage and his shackle. “I was given moy freedom. The Knoights and Squires o’ this land showed uncommon valor in their acts and deeds.” He stopped a moment reconsidering his words. “Though I ‘ave ‘ad only a few years to see the’world, I have found in this place a broight loight with which to guide myself farward.” The Kelvics clever eyes gauged the elder knight, as he finally got to the heart of the matter. “The next sum, I’m naut comfortable sharin wheth many… Yet, ye Ser have need teh hear of it. So that ye may understand.” Marrick paused as he let his mind fall into memory. “I was bourne a slave. I fought fer moy loife in the streets of Ravok. Dirt n’ filth is all I ‘ad known bafore I was sold teh tha man taking me south. I had a koind mother, if such a toitle could be laid to her. Then one off day in the lohfts of that pechid place I met a Symanestran woman. She gave me the off dream of freedom.” He bowed his head in thought and licked his lips, wetting them. He wished much for a drink, though he was glad for the fire at least. “I sought teh foind my way. Though, in a place loike Ravok, a slave has neither a way, nor a will.” Marrick paused and turned to look into the kind eyes of this Knight. The Kelvic wanted him to see his will. “I have thought upon it. I would not be free today if it wheren’t for the Knoights of Syliras. There are many loike me, that are brought south. ‘an those that would do harm, upon those with no will teh fight.” He stepped forward until he was nearly pressed to the large wooden desk. “I am a Kelvic, I ‘ave naut long teh live in thes warld. I ‘ave naut much I can give, but two ‘ands, a strong back, clever oiyes, and sweft wengs. These thengs I ‘ave, I offer to ye. I beg ye tha chance teh become a squire. To earn thes charity of life yeh ‘ave given me.” The Kelvic was not sure what would happen in the next few moments, though for the few seconds that followed he had never felt more free and unafraid.