Private Tales Learning Through the Bruising

Sam would have been sympathetic to Sable about him still being housed in one of the barracks buildings, but she'd never found pity to do much good for anyone. Beyond the bars of his former cell, the barracks were likely a vast improvement. New Knight recruits, at the very least, got their own rooms. Perhaps reminiscent of the Academy, they were provided with basic essentials, but if one couldn't do with the basics then it begged to question what they'd do with nothing at all when surviving out on a mission.

He'd passed his probation test and been granted the rank of Knight Sergeant by Captain Holstag, but he'd not yet been assigned to the Dragonsbane Squadron... or any Squadron for that matter. Not that Holstag would put him under anyone else but Sam, knowing his ... issues.

There were a few wrinkles to work out yet, but Sam was sure he'd be moving in to the last open room of the Dragonsbane Hall soon enough. For now it seemed he was having trouble making friends and finding time for socializing. This was very much not acceptable for many reasons.

Namely - all work and no play made Sable a dull fucking boi.

Ironically, Sam was still dressed in the majority of her training armor after having just left from a meeting with Captain Holstag and the other squadron Lieutenants. She met Sable with an expectant look, glancing over his civilian clothes and finding them to be quite strange indeed. Difficult when she'd been so adjusted to seeing him in nothing but armor for the last several months.

"You're in luck," she said to the taller Dreadlord (had he always been this tall?), "you won't have to put up with just me tonight. A bunch of Dragonsbane and Crosswind will be joining. It's Hammer's birthday."

They were headed to The Waterbell by the, you guessed it, water. How novel.

"Perfect time to celebrate your new rank," a smile planted itself on her face, equal parts pleased and proud with the results report Holstag had shared with her not but an hour ago, "and make some new friends."

"At ease...for the love of all the Gods," Sam snorted at him over a smirk. She liked that he was willing to address her appropriately but if he kept up calling her ma'am all night she was liable to dunk his head in a barrel of ale.

"I don't think you need to worry. We don't really do gifts as such. Mostly we just celebrate together. Time spent is more important, ya know?" It was how the Squadrons worked together so well.

From the barracks down to the port district wasn't a short walk, but it did provide a great view of the rolling slopes of the south quadrant of Vel Castere and the glimmer of the river below. She'd never been to Elbion personally but she wondered if it felt a bit like this, walking the streets in the evening hours with the colors of the sunset and the spots of torch and lanterns in between the shapes and shadows.

"...new rank, ma'am?"

She didn't hold her stride but her voice did pick up so it would carry, "Yeah, didn't you hear? You're a Knight now, Sable. And a blooming good one at that, according to your scores."

"And stop calling me ma'am - you're off-duty!"

A sideways eye looked at him as he stumbled over his words but it was in good humor at his excitement, "There's a bit of paperwork to be done on my end and the Captain's, but we'll get you sorted and moved into the Hall in a few days. You're joining at the same rank as the others; Knight Sergeant."

Down a set of stone stairs that cut between buildings. Their footfalls echoed out, mingling with the sounds of a city slowly transitioning from the daytime churn to the nighttime hum.

"I'll need to assign your call sign, too," Sam said with a snap of her fingers, "that's gonna take some thinking. And maybe some drinking."

The rueful chuckle from Sam might not have been reassuring to that end.

"Well... there's something about getting the title you deserve and I've yet to meet a Knight that deserved a shit title. But there are a few that came about from joking around. Cookie, for instance."

The expression on her face softened, warmed, as if thinking about a favorite grandparent which wasn't terribly far from the truth. "You haven't met him yet but you will. He's everyone's favorite and everyone's friend because he lives up to his name. He started as simply The Cook, a nickname they called him before the call signs became mandatory. Then just Cook. Then affectionately Cookie."

A shrug, a smirk, "It stuck. Nothing to be done for it. Knight Sergeant Cookie, haha."