4th of Summer, AV 515
Bureaucracy was bureaucracy, especially in the city of Zeltiva. While Pulren had been accepted into the Martial Society, he soon found that things ran differently than they did in the Wave Guard. There was definitely a rhyme and reason to everything, but at least in his initial days, it seemed that he was on some kind of probation. While eager to work, he accepted that his interview details and skills would be taken in and analyzed for a while before work started coming in. In the meantime, he felt that he would prosper by taking some of the classes offered there. Sure, he had to pay, but he suspected that the quality of the training was probably a sight better than that of a voluntary militia.
He had chosen to train in shield specifically for the upcoming session. After paying the fee for it at the desk, he didn't have to wait for long before a large bald man came out and called his name. Standing, he nodded and followed the man into a room. "No armor, huh?What are we doing today, unarmed?" Pulren had just worn his favorite green linen shirt, black linen pants and his fancy boots. It looked a little silly, but he appreciated the firm stance he could take in the fitted footwear. Perking up at the question, he replied,"You do unarmed? I could certainly use that, but no, I'm here to train in shield." The larger man nodded as they entered a musty paneled room.
The walls had multiple scratches and dents along its surface with just one large window near the ceiling providing light. Turning on his heel, the trainer crossed his arms and seemed to size Pulren up. "Do you carry one already?" Pulren nodded. "Yeah, a large wooden shield, round. Been carrying it for nearly a year now. It's beaten up pretty badly, though, so I figured I would use whatever you had." The man stroked at his long mustache, nodding some more. "Well, I don't have any wooden shields handy, but I have a large metal shield. It's a square too. Think you can handle it?" Pulren opened his arms in a gesture which seemed to provide confidence and readiness.
A little chuckle escaped the man's lips as he turned and walked over to a closet. As he rummaged through it, the cacophony of rattles, bangs and crashes echoing well against the hardwood of the interior of the room, he added, "I'm Marcus, by the way." Pulren nodded. "Marcus? I have a friend with that name." The trainer didn't even look over to respond, finally pulling free a scratched but sturdy square metallic shield and a large mace. He slid the shield across the floor toward Pulren as he tried to jam the door shut, the items inside threatening to rain down from within on him.
Pulren grinned and stepped forward, bending over to pick the shield up. A stern voice came from Marcus:
Not yet! Hold!
Pulren took a step back and waited a moment for him. He could tell this was going to be an interesting lesson.
Bureaucracy was bureaucracy, especially in the city of Zeltiva. While Pulren had been accepted into the Martial Society, he soon found that things ran differently than they did in the Wave Guard. There was definitely a rhyme and reason to everything, but at least in his initial days, it seemed that he was on some kind of probation. While eager to work, he accepted that his interview details and skills would be taken in and analyzed for a while before work started coming in. In the meantime, he felt that he would prosper by taking some of the classes offered there. Sure, he had to pay, but he suspected that the quality of the training was probably a sight better than that of a voluntary militia.
He had chosen to train in shield specifically for the upcoming session. After paying the fee for it at the desk, he didn't have to wait for long before a large bald man came out and called his name. Standing, he nodded and followed the man into a room. "No armor, huh?What are we doing today, unarmed?" Pulren had just worn his favorite green linen shirt, black linen pants and his fancy boots. It looked a little silly, but he appreciated the firm stance he could take in the fitted footwear. Perking up at the question, he replied,"You do unarmed? I could certainly use that, but no, I'm here to train in shield." The larger man nodded as they entered a musty paneled room.
The walls had multiple scratches and dents along its surface with just one large window near the ceiling providing light. Turning on his heel, the trainer crossed his arms and seemed to size Pulren up. "Do you carry one already?" Pulren nodded. "Yeah, a large wooden shield, round. Been carrying it for nearly a year now. It's beaten up pretty badly, though, so I figured I would use whatever you had." The man stroked at his long mustache, nodding some more. "Well, I don't have any wooden shields handy, but I have a large metal shield. It's a square too. Think you can handle it?" Pulren opened his arms in a gesture which seemed to provide confidence and readiness.
A little chuckle escaped the man's lips as he turned and walked over to a closet. As he rummaged through it, the cacophony of rattles, bangs and crashes echoing well against the hardwood of the interior of the room, he added, "I'm Marcus, by the way." Pulren nodded. "Marcus? I have a friend with that name." The trainer didn't even look over to respond, finally pulling free a scratched but sturdy square metallic shield and a large mace. He slid the shield across the floor toward Pulren as he tried to jam the door shut, the items inside threatening to rain down from within on him.
Pulren grinned and stepped forward, bending over to pick the shield up. A stern voice came from Marcus:
Not yet! Hold!
Pulren took a step back and waited a moment for him. He could tell this was going to be an interesting lesson.