Evelyn considered Amahn's answer for a moment. He watched as she stepped across the room slowly, gazing off for a moment, and then turning back towards him. "Let's say a 'Darkfriend' is brought before you.  What would you do?  How would you break down the walls and rebuild them?" She said to him. Amahn considered the question for a moment, letting it sink in fully before he began formulating an answer. He scratched the side of his neck lightly for a moment and then went into his answer.

 " Well, I suppose I would start by making this 'Darkfriend' admit to his sin. Going to whatever extremes I thought might be necessary, even if it meant harm to the individual. Which in truth would still be better for that person than dwelling in the Shadow even a second longer. " He paused for breath for a moment. Thinking of how to correctly word the rest of his answer. " As for ' Rebuilding ' those walls... Well if possible I would try to get them to come to the light after confession. If not... Sometimes its better to destroy a wall completely and put another in its place than to try restoration. " 

  Amahn looked at Evelyn intently, taking a brief moment to observe her beauty. Of course he was discreet as he did this. With a sigh he shrugged his shoulders. " That is the best I am able to explain I fear, i suppose I could go into a bit more detail but certain bits are better left unsaid. " He relaxed for the first time since entering the room. Awaiting a response from the female officer in front of him. He began tapping his foot nervously at the prospect that his answer might not have been that which she was looking for. Blood and ashes, I hope I can make it through this. Shes about as intimidating as the old gruff, and without even trying! 

 His face remained cool as their eyes met...

  Amahn straightened his stance a bit as his instructor approached him and was shocked to find out that she was a female, though he gave no sign of his surprise. He knew all to well that offending a female with something to prove could be the downfall of even the strongest of men. And she's not bad looking at that, he thought to himself. Finally she stopped in front of him, " Seeker Amahn Luthgar? " she asked in a questioning tone, and he nodded to her in answer.  "I'm Inquisitor Evelyn Shirale.  I'm here to train you in interrogation techniques.  Please follow me," with that she turned on her heels as if she already knew that he would follow for a fact. A slight grin crossed Amahn's face, though he didn't dare let her catch a glimpse of it.

 The two walked together for a short while, proceeding indoors before they finally came to a room with an open door. As they continued into the room Amahn spotted a vast array of questioners tools laid out across a stout, yet well worn wooden table. After a short observation he heard a door shut loudly behind him and he averted his attention back on the female. What was her name again? He wondered as he looked at her expectantly, finally she decided to speak up, "First of all, I would like to know what you think is the purpose of the Hand of the Light and what you expect of this training," she said. The lesson had clearly begun.

 Amahn thought for a short while about how he was going to go about answering this question and finally decided. " I believe the purpose of the hand is to break down the many walls of lies that the Shadow hides behind and break them down. Then rebuild them in the image of the Light, as barriers against the Shadow. " He looked at her expectantly after he had answered. He hoped she had found his answer to be acceptable. He once more adjusted his stance, it was almost as if he were mimicking the traits of a wooden plank.

  Amahn Luthgar awoke early to the cold air of his sleeping quarters. With a slight shiver he sat up, wrapping the thick blankets he had kicked off in his sleep around his shoulders tightly. He sat there in his bed for a moment before finally throwing the blankets off and standing up drowsily. His balance shifted awkwardly with each step he took to a porcelain washbasin positioned in the corner of his small room. It was one of the few furnishings in the room other than one stout wooden chair on the opposite end, a polished wardrobe, and a bed centered in the middle near the only window. As he was walking he stepped through a stream of bright morning sunlight which temporarily blinded him.

  Amahn winced as the cold water from the basin ran down his skin and began scrubbing quickly in an attempt to speed up the process of washing. When he was finally done he dried himself with a thin, tattered towel. It took only a short while after to make his way over to the wardrobe and dress himself in common wool underclothes.  When he was done he threw on various bits of armor and gripped down onto a snow-white cloak, embroidered with a red shepherds crook and a golden sunburst. He threw it over his shoulders, securing it around his neck. He had been informed to meet an instructor today, for what exactly he was still not sure. What it is matters not, i'm tired of just sitting around! 

  With that thought Amahn walked over to the gruff-looking, stout wooden door. He slid the bolt out of place and stepped out into the hall. Slamming the door shut behind himself. He stepped off down the hallway, his heels clicking loudly with each step across the well-worn floor. Eventually he found himself in front of an open corridor that led out into the court yards. He was told he was to meet his instructor at the pavilion, from there he would receive further instruction. He stepped out onto the court yard, walking across it quickly to reach the pavilion. His heels kicked up light tendrils of dust with each step that floated off behind him in the wind.

  Finally he reached the pavilion and stood at attention, waiting. One thing he had learned while being at the fortress was that ranking officers went on their own time, and it was in the best interest of those under the command to always wait patiently and give as little lip as possible. Amahn had left his sword back at his sleeping quarters when he came. That was another thing he had learned while being there. Unless told otherwise, when coming to someone of rank, never come armed. As he stood there waiting he began to drift off in thought, watching men work their sword forms a short distance off at the training grounds.

  Amahn rocked on his heels eagerly as a few men entered the room carrying new cloaks. He already knew exactly which one he would be taking up. The combination of the red shepherds crook and the sunburst. Recruits smiled here and there as the divisions they were to choose were mentioned. As the rest, when the Hand was mentioned, a smile split Amahn's face. He almost could not believe that this was happening.

  The man gave out instructions, informing the recruits to go here or there, depending on the division of their choice. Amahn carried himself to his destination with dignity and discipline but he could not help the broad smile that was seemingly plastered upon his face. He felt like crying out, anyone who had ever doubted his capability had been proven wrong on this day. He was to be the newest thorn in the Dark ones foot as far as he was concerned. 

  Amahn gripped onto his new cloak and along with the other new children, threw it over his shoulders, securing it at the neck. In that instant he felt complete. This was his destiny, his place in the pattern. After a short while he and the others stepped back into line, almost all at attention.

  "Congratulations, you are now ready to begin your new duties.  You will receive orders from your prospective divisions.  You are dismissed and may the Light ever shine on you." The man said. With that they all began walking away. Amahn made his way back to the barracks, walking along polished floors until he reached his sleeping quarters, he opened the door stepping inside.

 Upon entering the room, Amahn kicked the stout wooden door closed, not bothering to slide the bolt into place. He then yanked his cloak from his shoulders, spreading it out on top of his bed neatly so that he could observe the emblem. He still smiled, staring at the cloak for a long time.

 He was not sure how long he had been standing there when sleep finally took him. 

  Amahn stood second in line among a straight row of men, waiting expectantly. A smile was evident on his face yet there was still a hint of nervousness there that would not be dismissed by an observing eye. Now the real work would be expected of him, he was no longer training to do a job. It was time for him to do that job, and he knew that it would not be an easy one to do.

  Finally a man stepped in front of the group of recruits, his head held high as he observed them. He began pacing in front of the recruits until he gathered their full attention and then spoke up. He made it known to the group what they were there for, as if there was any doubt before, and then gave them one last chance to leave before swearing their oaths. No one left. A satisfied smile spread across the mans face as he realized that they would all be staying and with that he continued.

  "We meet at days end and night begins to seal your commitment to the Light. Please repeat after me," he said, raising his eyes to the setting sun before he continued.  "By the Light and the hope of salvation and rebirth, I swear fealty to the Children of the Light. I vow to serve, respect, and grant obedience to the high command. In the name of the Creator, I swear it."

 The man stood there, patiently waiting for all of the recruits to repeat the First oath. They all repeated the words exactly as they were put. Amahn looked around a smile splitting his face. His excitement would be evident to anyone who took the time to look closely enough at him.

 Standing at attention Amahn and the others waited expectantly for the man who had given them their First Oath to continue.

Yo 

Te'Oran - Amahn Luthgar, Recruit.

  Amahn Luthgar awoke to the sound of a quiet knock at the stout wooden door to his sleeping quarters. He slowly rose from his bed, taking a while to untangle himself from a cluster of blankets. Finally he made his way over to the door, sliding the heavy bolt to the side, and opening it. He quickly spotted a male servant standing right in front of him and the man said,  "Recruit Luthgar, you have orders to report to the Fortress at 18:00 in order to take your Oaths into the Children of the Light.  Please be prepared and on time."

 Amahn nodded to the servant and muttered a quiet reply that he almost instantly could not recall. Their was a trace of excitement though, that the servant had probably noticed. He closed the door as the servant scurried off, probably to go gather the rest of the recruits. Finally, He thought, the day had come for him to be anointed.

  After a short while of pondering on his thoughts, he finally stepped away from the door and towards a small porcelain wash basin located in the corner of his room. It was one of the few luxuries recruits had, being able to bathe. After scrubbing at his face, arms, and chest with a small lump of unscented soap vigorously for a few minutes he stepped over towards the small, yet sturdy wardrobe on the opposite end of his room. Opening it up revealed only Amahn's armor, two plain white cloaks, and a wool shirt with trousers.

 Amahn dressed himself quickly and then set to securing his armor, double checking various straps and buckles here and there. After he was done he sat down at a small wooden desk near a window and looked out onto the training grounds. With a smile on his face, he sat patiently, waiting....

 Finally the time drew near and Amahn left his quarters to go to the Fortress. After making his way through a few narrow, winding corridors he found himself outside of the barracks. He kicked up small bits of dust as he crossed the training grounds. Eventually he found himself outside of the Fortress, and stepped inside along with a few other recruits. Suddenly it hit him, this was no longer a fantasy, it was reality. Amahn would become a true child on this day..

Finished the weapons training rp I started - http://www.dragonmount.com/forums/topic/85706-training-day/?do=findComment&comment=3072940

  As Amahn stepped out of the room, he closed the heavy wooden door behind himself. He stopped for a short moment, a frown sprouting on his face. He shook his head vigorously as if to snap himself out of some sort of a trance, and then proceeded down the hall. Not many thoughts budded in his mind and he was fixated on the sound of the loud clicking noise his boots made on the polished floor. Suddenly he stopped in mid step, remembering the frown that had crossed the other mans face when he mentioned the Hand of the Light. Amahn was not blind, however much it disappointed him, he knew that  other children held an open contempt for the ' Questioners ' as they called them.

  After a short while he continued on down the hall, and eventually stopped outside of a shabby, wooden door. Home sweet home, he thought, and was shocked to realize that he had spoken aloud. A small cluster of passing recruits stared at him warily as they passed by. Shaking his head Amahn shoved the door open and stepped into the room. Once the door was closed behind him he slid the bolt into place. He then began shoving the few bits of furniture up against the wall, creating a decently sized open space in the floor. 

  Amahn drew his sword, stepping into the middle of his small space, it was a rather poor attempt to clear his mind. He swung random, undisciplined strikes here and there. Why did he even call me in there? After a short while he gave up, making his way across the room and sheathing his sword, he fell backwards on the bed. Bloody ashes I need some rest! He thought. Rest did not come easy however. He could not help but think over the days events. Amahn sighed aloud. He soon realized that he was still in his cloak and armor and began laughing at himself.

  Without getting up from his place he pulled off his boots clumsily, he then untied his cloak and rolled off of it, tossing it down into the floor. After a short while all of Amahn's clothes made an awkward pile in the floor. Being in nothing but his small clothes he worked himself under the thick blanket that was on his bed. Now that he was out of his armor sleep came easy to him.

  Amahn followed the man he had previously been sparring with down a series of well kept stair wells and hallways until they finally came to a stop near a stout, well worn wooden door. The man shoved the door open and closed it behind the pair as soon as they were inside. Amahn chose to take a seat when he was offered. He knew he wore a worried look on his face but the man soon put him at ease with a few kind words. He just wanted some basic information apparently. Fair enough, he thought, and so he began speaking to the fellow in confidence.

  " Well, " Amahn began and shrugged his shoulders, he was still a bit sore from the sparring session and was finding it difficult to make himself comfortable. " I was first born son to my father, who was a poor farmer who lived just outside of Caemlyn .. " he paused for a moment, adjusting himself once more and clearing his throat. " At an early age I was exposed to the many evils of the world, and saw the hand of the dark one in the world myself, I soon decided that if no one else was going to do anything about it, than it was my duty to take care of the issue myself. "

  Amahn stared over the desk at the man with a casual gaze. " I did all I could to walk in the Light, but I soon learned that the real battles were being fought by those who out right opposed the dark one and fought him and his spawn both in a mental war as well as a physical one, and so I heard about the Children and beyond that, the Hand. " Amahn shrugged once more, clearly meaning he was done giving his back ground.  He hasnt the need to know anymore. He rubbed his hands together roughly and tried to plaster a fake smile on his face. He had never been very good at smiling... But then again he had never had much to smile for.

  The man who Amahn had been sparring with clapped him on the shoulder with a heavy hand. “We’ll make a fine swordsman out of you yet, boy. That was some ballsy move you pulled.” He said loudly, not seeming to be the slightest bit worn out. Tension instantly drained from Amahn and a small smile spread across his face. He breathed a sigh of relief. The few recruits who had been observing them had averted their attention elsewhere as soon as the session had ended and the man glanced in their direction. The sound of steel clashing upon steel rang through the training grounds with loud echos.

 Suddenly he turned back to Amahn.  “Ballsy moves like that are never taught in the books,” he explained. “For the pure reason that they’re just plain silly and stupid.” The man said and quickly smiled to take the sting from his words. Amahn had not been offended though, he knew that he was not stupid.  “But it is often this unpredictability take lets you win nine times out of ten.” Amahn nodded and replied in a worn tone, " Yes, Sir. "

 The man began staring into the eyes of Amahn and pivoted on his heels. “Ready to go again? Remember, be unpredictable – but don’t be stupid.” The fellow said. Amahn imitated - not very well of course - the stance of one of the men from earlier. He crept forward slowly, holding his sword ahead of him with both hands. He thought for a moment, and swung two, well placed blows. They both connected, one landing on the mans right shoulder and the other ramming into his left elbow. Quickly the man countered with a floury of attacks and it took all of the energy Amahn had just to direct the blows elsewhere.

 Finally one connected to his hip and the fellow quickly followed up with a blow to the rib-cage. Amahn fell down on his back but quickly rolled over, coming up on his feet. He ducked low with great speed and swung a blow at the mans knees...

  Amahn winced as he stepped forward toward the man who had given him a nice boot to the ribs. A mischievous look ran across his face, his usual method of attack was clearly doing him no good against this man. He had another idea. Rather clumsily he raised his sword above his head and brought it down in a wide ark. As the man in front of him reached to block the attack and more than likely counter it, Amahn slung his right foot towards the fellows ankle knocking the leg out from under him. Instantly he spun around, throwing his elbow at the mans head, the attack barely connected but Amahn thought he had gotten his point across none the less. A few of the recruits who had strayed from their instructions gasped in surprise. 

  Suddenly a blow took Amahn right in the shoulder and he crumpled to the ground. He shuddered a bit as he became aware of the cool breeze that had been working its way back and forth along the training grounds. Slowly he stood from his place at the ground, grunting as he did so with a grimace on his face. He muttered a curse under his breath and stood with a slouch in his step. Bloody hell, he thought, just had to look away from the fellow eh Amahn? He quickly averted his attention back to his superior. Only now did he finally take the time to truly observe him.

  He wore the tunic of a Hundred man; a silver lightening bolt lay under the golden sunburst that was embroidered on the breast, which indicated his rank. By no stretch of the imagination was he an impressive figure, but he had a look of discipline and reserved strength about him. The look of a true, battle-hardened soldier. Amahn leaned forward intently, bracing himself for the bitter critique that was soon to come. He no longer noticed the wind...

  Amahn stepped out onto the training grounds, mixing in among the other recruits. Dust hovered around his ankles as he stirred it up with each step. Tottering anxiously from foot to foot he awaited some form of instruction. All of the recruits were murmuring to one another within their various groups. Amahn frowned as he noticed this, growing slightly impatient. At least at the end of this day he would be a better swordsman than before, and that in itself was worth the wait on the instructor. He watched a few already working their forms to the side curiously, these were clearly some of the more experienced children. They moved about gracefully, almost as if they were dancing with swords in hand.

  Shaking himself Amahn averted his attention back to the front of the group. They were all standing about rather awkwardly. He rubbed his hands together and then dropped them to his sides. ' Bloody hell what is this some sort of patience party? ' Amahn thought. He began loosening his sword in its sheath, this action in itself did bring a bit of pleasure to him. Suddenly a man stepped out in front of the group and Amahn slammed his sword into its sheath with a loud click! and stood at attention. 

i guess you will be haha, yay you :D

alright just let me know when a thread is up or I can start one just whatever! 

  Haral sat up in his bed hastily as he heard the shuffling of chain links at his door and rubbed the last bit of sleep from his eyes quickly. He could feel the red rings forming around his eyes from the pressure of his fingertips. Suddenly the large door opened with a loud Click!, and in stepped two men who he somewhat recognized. They stepped in with the mildly arrogant saunter only a soldier would carry himself with.

  One of the men in particular stepped forward and spoke to Haral directly, “My name is Jeral, and this is Arkin,” he pointed to himself and his companion in turn as they sat down. “What might your name be?” Haral stared at the man for a moment and then mumbled in reply under his breath. Suddenly the man accused him of following their party. " Well, I certainly was not following you or any of your men and even if I had been I probably would not be able to tell you why. " Haral glared at the man gripping the bed sheets under himself and releasing them almost rhythmically.

 Suddenly a glint of light shone through the window and struck perfectly on the washbasin in Haral's room causing it to glimmer in his eye. " Ahhhh bloody hell! " he groaned loudly. The men looked at him with almost amused looks on their faces. He leaned forward on the bed shielding his face as he was filled to the brim with a nauseous feeling. Haral stumbled up from his bed clumsily, stubbing his toes on loose floor boards as he made his way over to the wash basin and plunged his face into the cool water. 

  The feeling of relief was instant and Haral quickly jerked his head up from the small tub, causing water to fly around the room in small droplets. " Say, either of you lot got a towel? " Haral asked as he once more shook his head, flinging small bit of the water towards the men. A mischievous look worked its way onto his face and held its place there for a short while. The men did not seem to catch the humor in the situation.

  With that thought Haral shrunk back onto the bed and crossed his legs over one another. He looked at the two men intently and awaited some sort of response. 
 

alright cool we can do that. would it count as the one rp i need before my anointing as well or just WS?

After the weekend on Monday i'm looking to get a training thread going for my character. Anyone with a more experienced character willing to pass down some knowledge to young Amahn?? :)

 Haral flung his arms about over his head and began screaming in some odd, and more than likely, non existent tongue. " -Ou blooy fool!" He yelled almost at the top of his lungs! One man rose from the table and in reply shouted,  "You take that comment back about my mother!" Haral obviously had no control over the situation at this point, " Oh so now you do be insulting my mum!? Well your mum is a bloody fat lummox! " he shouted back with his eyes fluttering. To his horror Haral realized the man was attempting- and failing at the moment- to draw a short-sword of a knife from his waist.

  Without thinking Haral threw himself on top of the man and they hit the floor with a loud noises of plates hitting it as well accompanying them. He was conscious of a bit of drool running down his cheek, as well as a glass shard in the palm of his right hand, but that was about the extent of Harals awareness of the situation. 

  Around him people were shouting and the entire common room seemed to erupt as if he had given some signal he was unaware of. The man that he had toppled onto the ground with was still screaming curses that Haral did not really understand and so he swung a fist towards the mans head striking only open air. " Ya' quit movin'! " Haral lost balance and rolled over on his back, the room around him whirling to blackness.

  Whilst Haral was blacked out the mans party rushed in around the two and started pulling at them here and there, both were obviously in need of some rest.

  By this point Haral  was feeling the effects of the numerous pints of ale he had consumed earlier on in the night. He knew that he looked shocked as soon as the man replied to him saying,  “What gave us away?”. Of course he would though you idiot, you did approach them after all. He soon gathered himself, watching the man who had spoken up gnawing on a chunk of bread. A disgusted look came across his face and without thinking he replied, " How I noticed matters not but Light you eat like a bloody animal! "

  A few of the people sitting close enough to hear the groups conversation over the commotion of the common room gawked openly, staring at Haral and the group of men. He quickly tried to jump in and save himself saying, " L-light man I'm sorry, but really the way you eat is bloody horrible! " By this point Haral swayed on his feet, gripping the edge of the groups table to steady himself. 

  Almost too quickly for him to have realized what had happened, Haral fell forward, knocking over the drink of another man, causing it to spill out all over the table. He began spitting out random curses and tried to wipe up the mess, doing more bad than good and spreading the spilled liquid everywhere.

  Amahn listened closely to the end of the gruff mans speech at first but towards the end began nodding off. He soon snapped back into reality and realized the speech had been concluded and all of his comrades were heading towards the kitchens. He made his way in the same direction, his boots making deep imprints in the wet top-soil as he walked across it. Eventually he made his way into the kitchen, ducking in through the door way and gathering some food along with the other recruits. Amahn made a quick meal out of some roast, olives, and cheese and then requested that he be shown to his temporary sleeping quarters. 

  With a nod another child led the way. After a short while the child stopped outside of a random door and opened it, moving to the side so that Amahn may enter. He nodded as he stepped pass the man, a faint smile on his face, and then closed the door behind himself. Quickly he unstrapped his cloak and armor, and awkwardly pulled off his boots. He threw it all messily into a big pile by his bed. Amahn had not been laying down for more than a few minutes before he drifted off into a deep sleep. 

  Amahn awoke the next morning not remembering his dreams from the night before and rolled out of his bed. He strapped all of his armor back on and then threw the cloak over his shoulders. He then made his way towards the door, opening it and stepping out into the hall way.

  Haral attempted to, not too obviously, continue observing the group of men, but he was sure they noticed him. After a short while he noticed a few of them had began talking in a low tone that he could not catch from across the room. He shrugged as he sat the stein that had been at his lips back down onto the table, he was not sure how many he had had that night. Suddenly a thought worked its way into his head that surprised even himself.

  Haral motioned the returning serving maid off with the wave of his hand as he stood from the wooden stool he was seated at and began making his way across the room. He was not sure what had gotten into him on this night, but it had been a strange one, and strange nights always called for strange events. His well worn boots caused loud creaks as he stepped across the saw-dust covered floor and the noise seemed obscenely loud to haral- Goodness could I make anymore noise?

  Finally Haral arrived at the table the group of men he had been observing were seated at. For whatever reason he decided he might as well initiate a discussion of some sort and started it all wrong as he usually did in such situations. " Say, you lot are a peculiar one eh. Some sort of soldiers or something of the sort I suppose? " Haral stood there rather awkwardly as the group gawked at him, he was not quite sure if it was out of amusement or anger. They were a hard book to read for sure.  Either way he was uncomfortable and began scolding himself in his head for ever approaching the men. Light they'll probably kill me. Kill me and throw me in the street, serves me right to I suppose but oh I hope- Haral's thoughts were suddenly interrupted as one of the men spoke up...

  Amahn listened closely as the gruff man resumed speaking after a short while. He was now going to give a brief description of each division to help guide the new recruits in choosing their paths. He started by giving a description of the Army of the Light. Though Amahn undoubtedly respected the Army of the Light, it did not seem a desirable path to him. That unit was composed of fighters or other types of people that would be useful to have around during times of war, and he was not that kind of person. However, as he looked around Amahn did notice several of the other recruits perk up as the gruff man went on with his description of the army. He could not help but feel at least a bit of respect for those men, after all they were as necessary in the battle against the Shadow as any other unit.

  After a short moment the man jerked his thumb back towards the Dome of Truth and the recruits, who had before been grinning over at their friends, averted their attention back to the gruff man. Amahn perked up as the man began describing the hand of the light. ' The Hand that digs out Truth ' he called them. Amahn liked the sound of that, if there was any doubt before as to what unit he wanted to join now there was none. The Hand settled disputes, saw that justice was always brought, and settled disputes between various individuals. According to the man they were the closest remaining thing to the original priests of the Light.

  Last came the description of the Eyes of the Light. Or as the man called them the Children's spies. As Amahn assumed, they were a very secretive division, not much for his taste. All the same though they were a part of the Children and that made them brothers in the eyes of Amahn. It was a bit unsettling to him however that they would not even reveal themselves to other children, even if they thought it was necessary. 

   "I have only one part of my lecture left, on the leadership of the Children." the gruff man said. With that Amahn and the others once again looked at the man expectantly.

  Haral Orahn stepped into the common room of the inn he had chosen at random upon entering the city of Caemlyn. He was worn and weary from his travels throughout the region and was definitely not in a jovial mood. With an exasperated sigh he threw himself onto a random wooden stool by a round table of the same make and ordered a drink from one of the serving maids, tossing a small silver coin towards her. She caught the coin and with a wink and a giggle, bowed slightly and set off towards the kitchen. Watching her disappear into the back Haral threw his legs out under the table and leaned back in the chair, beginning to nod off into a daze . . .

  After a short while he sat up as the serving made came back, a pint of ale in hand, and slid it onto the table in front of him. He nodded to her in thanks and gripped the handle of the stein, bringing it up to his lips. The ale sloshed up onto the brim and down into his throat as he tilted it back. Haral had not had a good pint of ale in a while and he had missed it for sure. Suddenly he sat up with an inquiring look upon his face, he noticed a few men in military attire standing over in a corner sharing drinks and having a laugh with one another. Their uniforms were odd to him, he was almost sure he had never seen one of the sort before.

  With that thought left hanging, Haral turned his attention back to his ale and drank the last bit off it in one swig. He called the serving girl back over loudly and ordered another. While awaiting his next drank Haral began to observe the men curiously once more...

  Amahn watched as the gruff-looking man from before came out onto the pavilion with a small, leather-bound book in his hands. He knew enough of the children to know what that book was, and with it came the long speech he was soon to endure. Presumably from the gruff man holding it. As the man began to speak, Amahn leaned forward, intently listening to what the fellow had to say. What a rich history the Children had, of course he knew it to an extent, but not all of this as was contained in that book. When the section concerning the Aes Sedai came about Amahn grimaced.

  Of course, many would think that being from Caemlyn where the queen had an Aes Sedai adviser, that he would be more lax on the subject. That, however, would be a mistake on their part. Amahn could not count the number of years his, as well as his neighbors, crops had failed leaving them nothing for the winter, and where had the good queens Tar Valon witch then? Well he knew for a fact that she should was not helping him or any of the other farmers who truly needed her. She was too busy pulling the strings on her puppet queen. Amahn suddenly noticed a burning anger working its way into him and with a start he pulled himself together. Nothing made him more angry than talks of vile darkfriends. With that thought he quickly averted his attention back to the man speaking and caught the tail end of his speech.

   "You, you recruits-- YOU are the ones who will be responsible for carrying out that mission in the years to come. If your heart does not accept the message, or you feel yourself to be too weak to carry out your duty-- go, now. If anyone desires to leave, you may do so at any time during your basic training with no fear of persecution. But once you have taken your Oaths, you are ours-- for life. Anyone who deserts their post after taking up the mantle of a Child is dealt with harshly-- the penalty for desertion is death."  The man said in a booming voice. Amahn saw a few of the cowardly men scamper off towards the Quarter Master and spit in their direction. He stepped up, placing a balled-up fist over his heart and took a knee. " In the name of the light I, Amahn Luthgar, will stay and help with the efforts to unite man kind against the Shadow. " He did not say it in an excitable tone but a stern one.

 Amahn already knew his future with the Children would be a great one. He would assist his comrades in conquering the shadow to his last breath. Starting with the darkfriends all over the world pulling their strings...