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The armourer nodded, in respect for the old woman. He stepped into the back, coming out a moment later.

"Here be a stave for ye. I haven't had a request for boots in some years, but here are some good ones for ye. And here's a knife for healing with. Ye may lash your bag to the sheath of ye knife." He handed everything over. "Here be some light armour for ye. It weighs naught." The armourer ushered Fiacha out gently, exhuasted from the unexpected day of work.

Fiacha's Stats:
Title: Newbie Healer
Stats:
Charisma: 0
Magic: 2
Speed: 0
Strength: 1
Defense: 0
Luck: 1
Intellect: 3

Fiacha's Inventory/ Equipped Inventory:
1 Elementary Staff (+1 Strength)
1 Basic Healing Dagger (unequipped, +1 Healing)
1 Pair Basic Boots of Travelling (+2 Speed)
1 Bag of Herbs (+1 Healing)

Fiacha's Abilities:
Basic Elementary Healing (Heals 2 HP, once per battle/ twice per non-battle day)

Hikaru couldn't help grinning at the different way the armorer treated all of them. Perhaps he doesn't like people so much, she thought. Then again, maybe not.
She looked carefully at everyone else cluttered near the enterance.
The old lady had just come out. Maybe she will teach me something more about herbs, and healing, she thought happily.
She hoped she could be friends with the girl who was not much taller than her, but then she always hoped that. But she had a feeling the girl would make a great friend.
The adventurer looked ready to go. A big difference from me, she sighed. The balcksmith didn't look as much so, but was probably in a ready state.
She took a deep breath to calm herself.

Trekvid stood in the training field next to Felvil. He leaned heavily on his stave. He looked over at the elf, whose erect form unnerved him, as always. He sighed.

"These fools won't stand a chance. Have they any idea what they are up against?" He whispered over to the elf as the trainees trickled over into the field.

"You once stood as little a chance as they. You should not chastise them for being inexperienced, for in that respect I would have no choice to look down upon all humans that I meet with similar disdain." Felvil responded in his fair Elf voice.

"But we-- but I-- was not trained in the middle of a war. I was trained in a time of peace, when there was no sense of urgency on my training. These fools will die before they even reach Constance's land." Trekvid snorted through his long nose.

"It is our duty to help them reach that land. If they fail, we fail. We cannot fail, because this kingdom must survive. If we are to ever see peace restored, it lies in the very hands and minds of these fools, as you call them." Felvil leaned down to whisper into Trekvid's ear. "You will not survive if your prince does not, now will you?"

"Nonsense, elf. I will survive for many more ages." The dark mage replied. Felvil snorted. He stepped forward and beckoned to the people that had gathered in the training field.

"Welcome, one and all. We must have you each participate in a training program so that you will not die as soon as we leave the protection of these walls." Felvil gestured widely to the distant town walls that held the wildlife at bay. "You will not get experience from this, but by the end of this, you will be able to at least use the weapon you were given." Felvil motioned behind him, where several dozen hay-filled mannakins were staked into the ground at a steady interval. "Practice with your weapons and battle manoeuvres for a while. If you have any questions, do not hesitate to ask Trekvid or I."

"Yes, thank you, sir." Hikaru said bowing.
She walked up to one of the mannikins, and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She took out her sword and glared at it for a moment or two. She had never trained with a real sword, it was always a bamboo one. Then she began her training.

After Logarth received his weapons and armor, he was shooed out to meet the others in the party that will make the journey. He waited for the others to join them, then he listened to Felvil and how they need to train first.

Yeah, because mannequins are just like the real thing, he thought, looking at the targets. When Felvil released them to do their training, Logarth walked over to a section of the training area that had 4 mannequins in a group, and he started training. With his flatbow in his hand, he slid his hand across the oak, which made up the skeleton of the bow, and the string, to test its elasticity.

Then, facing a target, he took out one of the arrows from the quiver on his back, carefully aimed it at the heart of the target, and released. The arrow grazed the shoulder of the mannequin, but shot past it and landed in a bale of hay. Not wanting to give up, Logarth practiced some more.

Eithne stood for several long moments, her mouth hanging half-open as though she were about to speak. Her usual sense of kittenish curiousity was blazing, and she wanted desperately to know just exactly what they were all leaving their homes--or, in her case, their lack thereof--to face. Finally, though, in a burst of rare good judgement, she closed her mouth. Now was not the time or the place to make such inquiries.

Hefting her staff, she approached the nearest mannequin; near the place where Logarth was training. Facing her hay-filled opponent, she raised the staff and struck, the wooden weapon whipping [whee, alliteration!] through air. She delighted in it's hum, and even moreso in the heavy thud as it connected with the dummy's shoulder. from there she attacked witha vigor, whipping the staff around in a series of maneuvers that, if not something that would be found in most formal training, was nontheless quite effective. From watching her there would be little doubt that she was fast indeed. The most notable flaw in her method, though, was the complete lack of formal training. The girl was obviously self-taught.

Felvil walked over to Logarth. He smiled gently and showed him how to aim properly. He walked over to Eithne and showed her how to properly grip and swing her stave. He nodded to himself, more assured than ever of his training ability. The people were already acting as if they had been fighting for a week. Hikaru flayed at her mannakin, cutting it into ribbons. Felvil walked over and showed her how to make a blow using less energy. She smiled back at him, appreciative of the help. Felvil stepped back and watched as the people began to finish up their initial training. He looked over at Trekvid and nodded.

Trekvid stepped forward slowly. "Let us be going now. We do not want to tarry here for long, my comrades." He said ushering them toward the city gate, where supplies were waiting for them. He motioned for each person to strap on their own packs. Each pack was personalized for the person's size and weapons. "Wait here for a moment before we depart." He said.

NOTE: Hiraku will become an NPC for the next week, because the CC will be gone.

Eithne retreated from her mannequin, which now bore less the figure of a human than some sort of potato, with a slight pang of regret. The thrill of the fight, imaginary as it may have been, still pounded through her veins.

Strapping her pack on, she began to pace back and forth, accustoming herself to it's weight. It was heavy, but not so much that it would weigh her down too greatly. she was the smallest of the gathered group, and her pack similarly stunted. She had little doubt, though, that it contained sufficient supplies. Besides, she was good at fending for herself if it did not.

When Felvil showed Logarth how to properly aim the bow and arrow, and also to check the wind and compensate accordingly, Logarth thanked him. Soon, the mannequin started looking like a pincushion with over half of the 20 arrows he shot hitting the mannequin. They may not have all hit a lethal spot, but it was still good for a beginner.

When Trekvid told them to stop and begin the journey, Logarth ran over to the mannequin, observed his work one last time, and plucked the arrows out and put them in his quiver. He jogged over to the packs, found his, and put it on. His was perfect for him as it had a spot for the quiver and one for the bow. His dagger was sheathed, around his waist. The pack itself, at first, seemed a bit heavy, but he got used to it. For having a lot of supplies in it, it was surprising easy for him to move around and bring out his weapons in case of a foe. And if we get tired of stale bread and the other types of food in these packs, I could always try and hunt something, like a deer, he thought, smirking.

Fiacha was on a mannequin far away from all the others. She stood there, looking at it. She was not in any way prepared to start this journey. She poked the dummy with the staff. She then looked at the kid using a staff quite like the one she had. "Well, i'm old, but it would be the first time my age would stop me from doing anything." She lifted both her feet from the floor, testing the boots. They were indeed soft and light. She felt like she could actually run like she did some years ago, before giving up on her exercise. "I may be old, but i can run and move like a 20 year old girl. I know i can. All i need is some training and efford!" This said, she took 10 steps back from the mannequin. She looked at it fiercely, and, in a swift, she rushed over it, hitting with the staff on the neck of the dummy... Still it didn't even moved. Again she looked at the girl. She could now make some damage to the dummy. This gave her strenght. She took a deep breath, walked 5 paces back, and tried it again. This time, she hit the head of the opponent, and to her joy, bits of stuffing flew thru the air.

Trekvid approached Fiacha. "It is time to go, my dear." He said, taking her gently by the elbow and guiding her to the packs. "I will help you get better with that." He gestured loosely toward her stave. He stood with the group and waited while the others weighed their bags and adjusted the straps. Hiraku grabbed her pack and slipped it on, feeling the weight of the supplies and the mission sink into her shoulders. She looked at the ground, wondering when they would depart.

Felvil approached the group. He grabbed his weapons and slipped them onto his back. "It is almost time to go." As he said this the King approached.

"I bless thee all in your journey. If thee do not accomplish your mission, do not bother returning." He said with a growl. "I pray that thy movement be swift, and thy deaths swift as well, if that be the case." Adjudica walked away, back into the castle. Trekvid took a step toward the gate.

"No sense in standing here all day, you fools. Let us be moving along." He said. Felvil took a quick step toward the gate, humming softly to himself.

Orost, who had been effortlessly knocking the heads off manaquins a ways away from the rest of the group before the packs were handed out. He sholdered his pack and followed the rest of the group. After the king gave his, in Orost's opinion, pointless speah. He had never found the King very impressive.
"Hey, black robe, we need to stop at my forge. I need to tell my apprentices that I'll be gone. They wern't at the castle this morning." Orost had a very poor opinion of black robes as well. Orost didn't like many people.

"It will be very hard for them not to find out, Orost. You had best begin to learn names, for I will no longer respond to you referring to me in a derrogatory manner." Trekvid responded. He threw his raggedy and dusty cloak over his nice black robe and stepped over the threshold of the gate. The people that had gathered to watch let out a collective sigh. Trekvid ignored them and moved along, pulling the rest of the group along behind him. Felvil rounded up the back of the group, smiling to himself.

"Why don't we each talk about ourselves a bit?" He asked, looking down at the newcomers. "We will need to know a lot about eachother to become an effective team."

When the king said his farewell to the group, they all exited the gate in a line. Logarth was in the back, near Felvil. As they left the confines of the castle and the village, he started to realize that they might not return to this place. Oh boy... he thought. Well, if we do perish, at least we perish knowing that we tried to help the greater good.

When Felvil suggested that everyone talk about themselves, Logarth hesitated. But, not seeing anyone else talking, he decided to speak up. "Um... Well, I'm Logarth, and although I haven't adventured much outside this kingdom, I sometimes used to go camping in the forest for days at a time, away from any kind of civilization. For me, it was extremely peaceful, because the life in a big town such as this stresses me out... And because I used to go away for days at a time, I've learned how to fend for myself quite well in the wild."

"And, well, uh, I guess that's all I have to say..." he said, looking ahead at the group, wondering who would comment next.

Orost glared at Trekvid before saying a bit about his past.
"I'm a blacksmith. That's all there is to it. I don't think either of our lands are worth the efforts of saving, but I got family in Constantious from my late wife's side." After this, Orost stared off into space, misty-eyed.