Completed New Armor

[Kristen Pirian]

Hosten's was less your average smithy and more a place of artistry, if one considered armors to be works of art. And with the backing of the renowned blacksmith and entrepreneur James Hosten himself, it was hard not to. Other blacksmiths throughout Vel Anir could pump out gambesons, chain mail hauberks, sets of plate armor even, all these in the vast quantities necessary to support the gigantic war machine that was the Anirian Guard; and all of said armors were practical, utilitarian, they got the job done and they got it done well.

James Hosten and his hand-picked team of skilled blacksmiths and tailors and leatherworkers, on the other hand, dealt with more specialized customers with their more specialized requests. More often than not this was Vel Anir's esteemed order of Dreadlords, and the Initiates thereof as per orders placed by the Academy, but it wasn't uncommon for the particularly adventurous of Vel Anir's nobility to have armor crafted by him. Orders even came in from abroad, with some customers traveling rather far across Arethil after word-of-mouth reached their ears. Talent like the kind possessed by James Hosten, and by those few and trusted blacksmiths whom he allowed to train under him, had no true substitute, either magical or mundane.

Kristen Pirian, as it happened, was at Hosten's to be fitted with her newly forged armor herself. Her old armor had been damaged and replaced on many occasions during her time training at Vel Anir's Academy. Her parents, nobles of House Pirian, decided that it was time for an upgrade. Kristen's preference was for a balance between weight and protection; if she were an infantrywoman in an army, she would be medium infantry, for her magical talents did not lend themselves to the frontlines nor was there much advantage (there were detriments, even) for being too far back.

Hosten's complex had as its main lobby the tailor's shop, wherein all cloth and linen components of armor were made; the leatherworking shops and forges were next door on the complex grounds. Presently, Kristen stood in said lobby, just before the front counter.

"My Lady Kristen, it is good to see you," said the female attendant, checking over a list of pieces she would have to retrieve for her. "We'll start with your arming garments first, to ensure they fit you perfectly, then we will fit your armor."

"Thank you so very much!" Kristen said, clearly eager.

There was one other person in the lobby as well, standing beside Kristen, also present to pick up armor. The attendant sidestepped over to them.

"And your name?"

 

[Samantha Black]

"Lieutenant Black," said the other person who'd been keenly investigating a new weave of linen on display nearby and, subsequently, not facing nor paying any attention to the other patrons in the lobby, "I'm not here for a fitting. I'm here to place an order of supplies for General Blackforge."

"Ah, Ralene, I almost did not recognize you without your usual kit," said the attendant, "James wasn't expecting you. I'm certain he'll want to speak with you directly for that order. I'll let him know you're here."

"Thanks Seren," Ral said quietly, the faintest shadow of a scowl on her face at the remark of her old kit, "I won't hold him up long."

Her old kit. What she would have given to have it back, but despite Noel's great talents with metallurgy she was fairly convinced it wasn't within her capabilities to unmelt the armor she'd worn to their graduation. The armor she'd spent years building, crafting, and perfecting to fit. Her second skin, as it were. She might've even gone so far as to say it had become a part of her very being, but those dramatics were even a bit much for herself. Instead she wore the standard issue kit of the traveling Knight, with a few modifications by herself, fitted to her by the smiths in Vel Castere just well enough to say it fit.

Her interim shell until she could return home to Castere and begin work on her own new second skin.

She turned as Seren walked off to tend to business only to find herself standing just feet away from Kristen Pirian of all people. What were the fucking odds. A dark brow curved above her icy gaze that peered out over the permanent slash of red crossing the bridge of her face, no thanks to Charon. The lookover she gave the girl was clearly appraising her new self, replete with prosthetic and confidence. Not that she knew Kristen well before, but those two things were the most immediate to strike her.

"Kristen," said Dreadlord Black in a tone that was at least trying to be amiable, "nice hand."

 

[Kristen Pirian]

The periphery of one's vision only offered so many hints. Yet as soon as the woman beside Kristen at the counter spoke, the recognition was immediate and clear...though thrown off to some brief but significant enough degree by the declaration of the name Lieutenant "Black."

But the face, when Kristen glanced over, was unmistakable, even if she had only seen it sparingly. Ralene Banick (or was it indeed Ralene Black now? Kristen wasn't entirely certain).

Kristen lifted her right hand, that which was made of porcelain and adamantine, flexed the fingers lightly, and said with the cordiality common between those who were mostly unfamiliar with one another, "Alistair fashioned it for me. To him I owe much."

And to him she gave her affection, her care, her thoughts and her warmth, and wished dearly for the many wonderful things she dreamed may come. But that was a whole other subject altogether.

The talk of her artificial hand led, invariably, to the noticing of Ralene's preeminent scar across the bridge of her nose. Kristen didn't even need to trace a finger across her face to mimic the position of the scar, just a direct glance was likely good enough.

"It is not my intention to be intrusive, but...did something happen? Have you seen a healer about...?"

That?

Ralene

 

[Samantha Black]

Alistair made it, huh? This fact garnered much more attention from Ralene than any other name might have. She'd known Al to dabble in small projects and crafts, but not seen any actual evidence of build. This was ... surprising and indeed quite the meticulous quality she'd expect out of him. Something she'd have to keep in mind for day she would inevitably require a limb replaced. The beasts she and the Knights hunted on the fringes of Vel Anirian society were brutal, powerful, and unforgiving.

"I was not aware he crafted such things," Ralene voiced, finding a strong desire to inspect the hand as one artificer and rune mage to another, but the last she'd spent any real time with him had been ... quite a while ago. Their mission with Edric to Tyr, as she recalled. Beyond that they had not worked together again before graduation and then each gone their separate ways. She to join the Knights and he to, presumably, pick up the pieces of his House and family left behind by the death of his father.

Speaking of graduation...

Kristen's eyes were looking at the same thing most everyone did. An act that grew a displeased look on Ralene's face in turn. Not specifically that she was bringing attention to it, but for the memories it dredged up.

Those crazed red eyes bulging beneath her merciless grip.

"Graduation," she answered shortly and with distaste, "the Nurses had more pressing injuries to tend to."

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Kristen knew she had committed a faux pas as soon as she saw Ralene's expression shift with displeasure. Seemed that she had unwittingly stumbled into being intrusive anyway, perhaps even causing offense if Ralene's countenance was anything to go by, and why would it not be so? Kristen had thought it to be some wound incurred in the line of Ralene's present duty; little did she know that it had come from the horrid affair that was the Graduation (the same for which she herself had not quite been eligible). An awful ordeal, through and through, and it was best to ask for a pardon and leave such a grim subject well enough alone.

"I apologize," Kristen said in a solemn manner. "I did not know."

There was a moment then, inevitable following such a blunder, of quiet. Perhaps even of awkwardness, at least as much as Kristen sensed. She thought maybe speaking then of others in their erstwhile class, asking something like "Have you kept in touch with anyone?" yet even this seemed uncomfortable under the shadow of Graduation. More likely than not, even if the spectre of Graduation had not inadvertently been summoned, the subject of their former fellows was an ill-fitting subject for conversation—Ralene, so far as Kristen knew, didn't like much of anyone. She was standoffish, if Kristen had to put it in a word. As it happened, there was an apropos story behind this notion. It occurred almost immediately after Kristen had cheerfully introduced herself to Bull on her first day in the Academy, after Bull did his repulsive act in return and was slammed to the ground by a Proctor and reprimanded. Kristen, standing there in shock, barely noticed another Initiate come up beside her: Graham, as it was, who she'd become acquaintances with later. But on that day, all Graham said to Kristen, referring to her cheerful introduction of herself, was: "Word of advice? Don't do that with her either." And then he pointed straight to Ralene across the courtyard. Granted, there were several others he pointed out as well before taking his leave, but Ralene had been the first.

Other open-ended questions seemed ripe with pitfalls too. Though Kristen enjoyed asking others about their families, about talking about her own, and used this often as a way to invite genial conversation, the address of "Lieutenant Black" by the attendant instead of "Lieutenant Banick" threatened to be an even more pricky subject than that of the scar across her nose, for she did not think Ralene had married in the intervening time between the Last Day and now.

So Kristen went with the safest route and picked up on what Ralene had earlier said to make a polite inquiry.

"How do you fare in your new station? Do you work directly for General Blackforge now?"

Ralene

 

[Samantha Black]

The silence might've been deafening for most, but Ralene had an acquired taste for it. For most of her life she had preferred the silence over that of much else, but then again the silence usually happened only between bouts of torture or bouts of savage battle with her fellow Initiates. It had only been in the last year or so of her life at the Academy that she had come to appreciate conversation with others, though she still wasn't exceptionally good at it.

The art came a bit more readily with some. Others that had earned her interest and respect. Kristen, frankly, had neither, but nor did she have her spite. The Pirian girl sat firmly in a situation of apathy with her, which was perhaps not a bad place to be. At least now she was not likely to have her warm and friendly greetings returned with a fist-sized-mountain to the face.

In fact the next question even garnered her a leavened expression from the Lieutenant.

"Only on occasion," Ral answered, "I fall under Captain Holstag's direct command within his Company, but I command my own Squadron within that Company of twenty or so Knights, including Davi and Elias. I don't see much of the General, but I do get charged with enough of his errands to say that I know his face better than some."

Her gaze shifted to where Seren had disappeared to, "I'm just returning from Alliria where I trained with a Master Dwarven smith. The General wants me to start working in Vel Castere's forges between missions."

Didn't leave her much downtime, but Ralene had always liked staying busy so she had very little to complain about.

"Your graduation must be coming up soon," she remarked with another look over her, "ready?"

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Kristen listened. For many of those from their erstwhile class, she hadn't been able to keep up to date with their more recent activities...with regrettable exceptions made for encounters with Edric, Sable, and Zael, and an exception Kristen didn't regret at all concerning an encounter with, and the slaying of, Bull in Vel Acan. Davi Kristen hardly knew, their one excursion to Elbion together in a group of Initiates proving no occasion for them to become in any way acquainted, and Elias...suffice it to say she and him once had a delightful duel.

The mention of the master dwarven smith alighted in Kristen's eyes no small amount of wonder, surprise, and excitement for Ralene's fortune to have experienced such training. Despite prevailing attitudes within Anirian culture about foreigners of all stripes, Kristen had always been fascinated with dwarven ingenuity. And she would have loved to talk about it, had not the subject been shifted—back to what Kristen had intentionally and deferentially avoided.

Her response came out near entirely of its own accord, firmly stated, trampling what politeness she otherwise would have strived for. In speaking of it with Zael many months ago she had been serious, and here now, especially in light of what happened, she was even more so.

"I fully intend to leave with the title of Dreadlord, and with no scars." She raised her porcelain hand up to the level of her cheek, putting it on clear display once more. "This is enough."

Ralene

 

[Samantha Black]

No scars.

She might've scoffed at that notion a year ago. Certainly would have felt unimpressed by such a hope. Scars to Ralene were a sign of survival. Trophies of battles fought. Evidence of a life lived and earned. She'd never look down on another for bearing their own scars, be they physical or otherwise, yet to want to have none? But that was the old ways talking, and though they were still very much central to the foundation of how she felt, thought, acted, and lived her life ... they weren't exactly running to the forefront of her emotional response.

And Ral found that slightly strange. Looking at Kristen's hand, nothing but a very rare sense of compassion and empathy managed to surface.

"I hope you do, Kristen," Ral's eyes shifted to lock with Kristen's determined gaze, a look of mixed emotion on her face, "I hope you don't have to go through what we did. "

Ralene did not regret what she'd done to Charon. That monster would have ravaged innocent lives for the rest of his breathing days so long as he'd been on the loose. What she regretted was the circumstances of how it all happened and the people that paid the consequences simply for the whim of a few rebellious Proctors. Davi, Zael, Sieglilly, Jaxan... just to name a few that came immediately to mind, without even mentioning those who had fled into exile with Gilram.

"You know," the Lieutenant's brow furrowed in thought as she sifted through key memories from graduation and many years before, "I've never been very big on faith in the Gods but ... you are quite devout - aren't you?"

 

[Kristen Pirian]

I hope you don't have to go through what we did.

"As do I, for the sake of Vel Anir's future, and for we who shall inhabit it."

It could be said that the immense human toll was symbolized in the relatively small scar slicing across Ralene's nose, there a horrid mark, one of many, both tangible and intangible, carried forth in the aftermath of the old Proctors' scheme. Worry not only for the well-being of herself, but also for her new classmates of the so-called Gilded Class, was cause enough for prayer that this Graduation should not be a dreadful echo of the previous. Yet there was more to it: the Republic itself needed this to happen smoothly. It needed the first true implementation of its new policies, if the shift to a more humane training regimen was ever to be taken seriously. Balls, Dances, leisurely excursions to beaches and friendly feasts organized by Initiates would be nothing more than empty pomp and circumstance if the old way stayed entrenched in the brutal practice of Graduation.

For all Kristen's thoughts of fairness, that she ought to be made to experience all that her peers (peers in age only, to be clear) had themselves experienced, this was certainly the most glaring exception.

The conversation took an...unexpected turn next. Pleasant, though unexpected.

"Yes," Kristen said, perking up, that steel of hers allowed to be put away, and her more characteristic cheer coming out again. "Devoting myself to Blessed Aionus, the Holy Sentinel, helped me through a time marked by much tribulation in my life. Indeed, my faith in that which is greater than myself inspires me to this very day, and so it shall for all the days of my life."

Ralene

 

[Samantha Black]

"As do I, for the sake of Vel Anir's future, and for we who shall inhabit it."

On this they could both firmly agree. Even so saturated and, mayhaps even corrupted by the old ways as she was, Ralene believed in the greater good and bigger picture. She'd undergone a lifetime of brutality and torture so that she might be strong enough to defend those who could not defend themselves. Fight for their liberties and put down that which might threaten their comforts. This purpose had colored and shaped her resilience over the last few years, and she supposed she had Captain Holstag to thank for that.

A man who was more a father to her than any man of true blood relation.

"Do you suppose..." Ralene's brow remained furrowed in thought and her gaze had broken from that of Kristen's. The voicing of these thoughts was difficult given it showed weakness in her mind. Ralene did not live with many regrets, but she couldn't shake some things that had been said to her since the revolution.

Her tongue passed over dry lips, head canting in thought of how best to phrase her ... was it concern? Worry? Curiosity?

"Someone like me could find forgiveness from the gods for what they've done in their life?"

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Kristen was truly struck by the question, a silent and breathless awe mixing with an empathy born of sorrowful dismay. It would forever be that Kristen had chosen to enroll into the Academy, and could only do so after the Revolution had occurred, whereas Ralene, and all others, had no such choice, and had endured for a decade or more what Kristen could only faintly glimpse—despite Proctor Magomo's best efforts with Marcella.

And what was more, with Ralene's reputation proceeding her, eclipsing all else as only a thing so immense could, such a question did also come as a genuine surprise, if not shock.

That Ralene had chosen to confide in Kristen this very vulnerable and delicate moment was something of an honor, and conferred upon her no small responsibility in handling it with warm sincerity. The question Ralene posed was a grand one indeed, the broaching of a topic so vast and so deep that hardly did they have time to fully engage with it before Seren returned. Kristen bundled her thoughts together, making brevity and empathy her watchwords.

And then at last, employing all her faculties of eloquence: "I may speak with confidence only of Aionus, of Astra and the Cosmic Pantheon, but know that these are not the only gods whose alignments are good.

"You wonder of forgiveness, not from Man, who is oftentimes incapable, especially when the scales of justice have become so far imbalanced, but from the Divines, who see far more than Man can ever possibly. That you even possess this impulse is a good sign, for this is the seed from which may blossom sincerity for atonement. This sincerity must be so, for what is veiled to mortals is plain to the gods, and it is within their sight that all the contents of one's heart are brought to light. And so the heart, therefore, is the cornerstone of faith; here do our beliefs, our troubles and our hopes and all in-between, lay nestled within our breasts.

"What deeds sit heavily upon you are necessarily so—their weight indicative of the scales imbalanced. Great suffering caused may only be expiated through great suffering of your own. But fear not, for if you choose faith as a remedy to your ailing spirit, then in so taking a Divine into your heart you shall by the very nature of doing so become more like him or her. At first, your wrongdoings, your evils if such is also what you have done, will make you feel ill-fitting to the Divine to whom you have pledged, maybe even unworthy, and because we are mortals the paths we walk are never without fault and error, so this too will plague you. But this pain of atonement is part of the great suffering you must endure, and marks indeed the first of a thousand steps toward change, toward fashioning yourself after a divine image, toward redemption. Where Man's capacity for justice extends only so far, it is they who are divine who have the power to release you from your debts which upon Arethil could never be repaid in full."

Kristen certainly could have spoken more, could have even brought up her recent visit to Edric in his dingy jail cell. But the question, for now, was sufficiently answered, lest Ralene herself wished to explore the topic further—preferably in a locale where they had much more time to talk.

She added just one more thing, "If you'll allow me to make a recommendation for you to consider, I would suggest Nykios, the God of War and Victory, or Astra herself, the Queen of Stars, as a god and goddess to whom you are very well suited."

Ralene

 

[Samantha Black]

You wonder of forgiveness, not from Man, who is oftentimes incapable, especially when the scales of justice have become so far imbalanced,

She supposed she'd never even considered it this way, but Kristen had hit the nail on the head. Ralene did not even need an entire hand to count the number of people she respected and cared for enough to want their forgiveness. Yet it was often that she did consider her own mortality and the nature of the life she had lead up until the present beat of her heart. The amount of pain, suffering, and death she'd wrought in so few years would have filled a normal person's cup of guilt in an entire lifetime.

What awaited her after her final breath?

Bleak nothingness? Blissful reprieve? Horrifying purgatory? Ral liked to believe she'd been through enough pain and suffering of her own - that a hell did not exist beyond the hell she'd already experienced in life. Yet she did not really know. No one did, so far as she believed, but those of religious leanings seemed to think they knew better than most.

Kristen certainly spoke as if she did and Ralene didn't fault her for it. She was grateful that the younger girl deigned to spend the effort and time for a serious reply. So much spoken, in fact, that it was too much to truly digest in the moment, but perhaps just the right amount of time in the saddle on her long, long journey back to Vel Castere. A saddle sore for each holy epiphany.

"God of War and Victory..." Ral mused aloud, a look of curiosity and intrigue on her face that suggested she wanted to pursue that topic of discussion, but Hosten and Seren had emerged finally from the back. The former made for Ral while the latter, carrying product in her arms, tended to Kristen once more.

"Blaaaack," James Hosten strode up wiping his sooted hands on scrap linen cloth, "what the blazes are you wearing? That's not your work."

Ralene held out her own gloved hand to shake his, uncaring of the dirt and grime, and gave the man a grave smile, "Standard issue medium Knight kit from Castere. Lost mine to an allomancer at graduation."

Hosten made a pitying scoff, "Years of work, rotten luck ... but you'll have the Castere forges to test now won't you? Seren said the General is putting you to the fires."

"That's the plan," Ral gave the man a short grin, "they're a sight to see. Could roast a minotaur in their large forges. You should come visit."

"I have seen their design prints and I wept with envy," Hosten shook his head, thick and dark brows furrowed like kissing caterpillars over his soot-circled eyes, "now this order for the General's as long in the tooth as my old nag. You have the transportation taken care of I'll assume..."

 

[Kristen Pirian]

What time Kristen had been allotted between Ralene's question and Seren's return was just enough to give her answer. Inevitably, she could not help but to be pleased by the punctuality of it.

Lost mine to an allomancer at graduation.

Kristen quirked her head slightly, thinking over that to herself. After a second, she came to the only real conclusion. Noel? Noel did that? Oh...

Mention of Vel Castere again, likely now under General Blackforge's orders to essentially be Ralene's new home for years to come. It gave Kristen cause for some brief thought of her own. Where would she herself go, after earning the title of Dreadlord? She would always be welcome in the Pirian Estate in Vel Anir city, and the same went for her any of her father Neil's personal properties. There was, of course, the possibility which sent her heart aflutter even from the mere consideration of it: that she could, through marriage, find a home within the Krixus Estate; yet this of course hinged entirely on the progression of her relationship to marriage with Alistair (and such things took time!), for it was unseemly to make a home of his Estate before such a time. There was, however, a third option for a home: Vel Numera. Kristen could petition her Uncle Tobias for a term of Ladyship over Vel Numera, since her cousin Fyris's tragic passing now left the position open, Mayor Caspian dutifully filling in for the interim.

Options, options. But all this was for the future. Maybe she could get Ralene's advice on it, on this and other things, since she had been living the post-Academy life for some time now. Especially since, so it seemed, Hosten was going to have quite the task on his hands with her order—it wasn't going to be ready within this particular visit. Ralene would certainly need something to do while she bided in Vel Anir city.

Kristen commented, "Goodness, that is a large order."

Surely General Blackforge didn't leave the transportation of all that equipment up to Ralene's resourcefulness.

Ralene

 

[Samantha Black]

A dark brow arched upwards at Kristen's interjection though for the time being Ralene nodded to Kristen in agreement as she finished up her conversation with Hosten. "I've got a wagon on the way. Should be here shortly," she replied to the man who was still poring over her list and rubbing the stubble on his chin. His hand left behind a print of grime and char.

"I'll need to move some things around to get to all of these items. This won't be ready until the morning."

"Can you make it by dawn?" Ral asked him, "I need to be moving out early."

Hosten gave her a look that clearly said she was asking alot, but the man knew it wasn't her asking and you didn't just say no to an Anirian General, "For you, I can," he heaved a sigh, "best get started then."

"Thanks Hosten," she watched him go, briefly allowing the nostalgia of her lessons at the forge under his tutelage settle into her mind's eye. She'd certainly miss her visits here - Hosten's had always been a refuge from the Academy. With Kristen still in attendance as Seren took care of her order, she wasn't given long to reminisce. Couldn't be seen looking homesick, after all.

"New kit?" she asked of Kristen with a nod toward Seren, "what are you getting?"

 

[Kristen Pirian]

"My old armor," Kristen started, "though not destroyed outright by an allomancer, nevertheless suffered continuous damage and repairs. Disregarding its increasingly worn quality, its weight, its bulkiness...did not particularly suit my style of combat and gifts of magic very well; no combatant given to the front line am I, even if...well, I often find myself there; more so, some aspects of my magic suffer detriments from being so close! So I wrote a letter to my parents, they agreed that it was high time for a fitting upgrade, and now here I am."

She couldn't help a smile, brimming with eagerness.

"Oh, I cannot wait to try it on!"

Ralene

 

[Samantha Black]

Interesting. Armor sponsored by her parents. How very easy Kristen truly had it ... though Ralene supposed had she any kind of relationship at all with her father, he likely would have done the same for the asking. His monthly stipend to her allowance had remained vastly untouched and accrued over the years into a small fortune that she could have bought a house with and settled into the reserves on quite nicely.

But she wouldn't touch it. The few coins spent on getting her first forging tools and supplies had been it, after that she'd made her own money from completing missions with Holstag and doing minor projects with the smithy. Self reliance ... did Kristen have experience with that? Living poor? Being unwanted by her family? Did she have any idea how difficult life was for the vast majority of her classmates?

"Hm," Ral made a thoughtful noise and decided to keep that string of thoughts to herself lest she ruin Kristen's mood with the cold slap of reality, "adaptability to whatever landscape your battle falls will save your skin more than you know. But I get your meaning...I prefer the front lines." They were opposites, her and Kristen. Ralene was honed and forged for front line damage and she could not stand being positioned back with the ranged soldiers. She could shoot a bow and arrow with the best of them, but found it both boring and a waste of her strengths.

"I'll stick around to make sure they fit you right," the faint smirk barely registered on her face, but she tossed a wink at Seren who playfully scoffed at her.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

"Just a moment," said Seren after the wink and the scoff. Then once more she retreated from the lobby's counter.

This time she returned much more quickly, having the help of a couple men to carry in all the pieces and set them out on the counter. Gleaming steel, silver in its sheen, much different than the rustic red of her old armor—in truth, Kristen prefered this new look over her previous, and she was indeed quite taken by it! Seren had her new arming doublet and arming pants folded over one arm, these solid black in color save for some light silver trim along the high collar and front, and then she handed them to Kristen.

"Oh!"

"Yes, you might notice the weight there," she said. "Heavier than a standard set of arming garments, though certainly less so than your former mail hauberk. One of Mister Hosten's finer touches, a mithril weave imbedded inside the doublet and the pants to make them as slash and pierce resistant as a typical linen gambeson—without the bulkiness. All the better to protect the gaps which your armor does not!"

Seren gestured to a small booth against the wall of the lobby, and Kristen eagerly crossed over to it and stepped inside. Some few minutes later, she emerged, her Academy fatigues shed and her new tailored arming garments donned.

"Well," she said to Ralene, raising up her arms and giving them small little twists here and there, "how do I look?"

Ralene

 

[Samantha Black]

Those were some expensive additions made by Hosten and Ralene raised her brow in recognition of it. Mithril was ... not common and she knew of at least a hundred weathered Knights who would look upon the young Initiate with scorn or envy for knowing of it. Not even Ralene wore Mithril.

The Lieutenant struck a casual pose and exchanged small banter with Seren while she waited. How were the kids? Growing, as usual, and expensive. How did Knight life suit her? Not custom enough yet but getting there. Was Bowen Burwood still serving his summer ale? By the bucket full.

Good, that settled her plans for the evening.

Then out came Kristen on display.

"Like a turtle without its shell," Ralene remarked glibly. Arming garments could easily be adjusted, it was the armor she had to concern herself with, but the Knight walked a circle around the Initiate all the same. Ral wasn't a master armorer by any throw of a hat, but she had a trained eye for fit and the experience from the field to know the requirements for a quality kit.

"You've a torso a mile long," she said, reaching to tug at the lower hem of the doublet, "she needs more length here Seren. This won't cover when she bends."

Coming around to her front she noted the length of the sleeves, "Mithril doesn't give, so make sure you can move in it now."

From a nearby dumby display Ralene withdrew two wooden swords that were likely meant for props or perhaps even as toys for children, but she tossed one to Kristen before swinging in slowly for an overhead strike.

"Reach, stretch," she told her as her arms then swung around for another strike from the far side, "as you would in the field of battle. How does it move with you?"

 

[Kristen Pirian]

You've a torso a mile long.

Mark Kristen off as being made self-conscious right then and there. Her eagerness and glee were put aside on momentary pause as her eyes went down from Ralene's gaze and to hastily engage in an appraisal of her own torso. Was that...true? How did other girls her height compare? Oh...snickerdoodle...other girls her height. That's right. She was something of a rarity, and not particularly in a way she liked; she envied Liza and Fennec their heights. They didn't have torsos a mile long. Was Proctor Magomo right? He hadn't made a comment on her torso, no, but he had said of her legs one time, in his typically crass and intense way, that Kristen could kick a horse in the ass and her foot would come out its mouth. This...didn't really help her run any faster or for any longer. Were both her torso and her legs disproportionate?

Kristen didn't stew on this for too long, again bottling up her insecurities (easy to do, even if the little rascals escaped said figurative bottle just as easily) and allowing for her eagerness and glee to return in full. She caught the sword tossed her way. Mimed a slow and mock duel along with Ralene.

Here a block, there a parry, now a sidestep and a practice thrust in response. All the little bits of reaching and stretching, getting that feel for her new and unique arming garments.

"Natural," Kristen said, putting her overall appraisal in a solitary word. "I do not feel restricted at all. 'Tis not even akin to wearing a gambeson."

"The protective weave, the superior flexibility and protection it offers, is a trade secret. One you will no doubt benefit from," Seren boasted. Then she smiled and added, "James Hosten doesn't make mistakes."

"And neither will Ralene, given that she has studied under a master smith herself," Kristen commented back to Seren with a glowing approval. The smile she then shared with Ralene was of simple happiness for her; oh, but one day soon Kristen herself would like Ralene venture out to see firsthand the renowned craftsmanship of the dwarves!

Ralene

 

[Samantha Black]

"Aye, James Hosten doesn't make mistakes," Ral agreed, "but he also doesn't fight and has never seen a battlefield," she tapped her nose and pointed at Seren, "he will take my suggestion just fine, like all the others before."

But it was good that Kristen could move so well in it. That meant only some additional length was needed to make it perfect.

"Let's put the turtle's shell on, shall we," Seren smirked, and motioned to her helpers to help as they were bid.

Ralene stepped back and out of the way, keen to see the gleam of this new plate as each piece settled, snapped, and buckled into place. If there was one thing that she could appreciate, it was a fresh kit of armor hot from the forge and pristine to this life. When they were finished, Kristen looked like a veritable beacon for abuse.

There was nothing more alluring on a battlefield than unscratched armor glinting in the fray. Ral actively witheld the desire to give Kristen her first dent.

"Bend, twist, feel the movement of it," she told her, leaning onto the wooden sword with its rounded tip settled into a burl of the floorboards, "we can go outside and give it a proper test run if you like."

 

[Kristen Pirian]

It was always nice to have help in donning one's armor. Nothing short of a hassle, doing so by oneself, and often did it leave Kristen (and everyone else embarking on the chore, she assumed) wanting the ability to conjure an extra pair of hands to aid in the endeavor. Likely, in the old days of the Academy, actually convincing someone to lend you the favor was a remote notion.

Soon enough, Kristen had on her new suit, replete even with a nice new traveling cloak of deep crimson. Bend, twist, feel the movement. The first thing she noticed, of course, was the absence of her mail, that weight which would have been around her shoulders and belted around her waist, and as well the lack of the mail's skirt bouncing against her thighs. In one sense it was liberating, in another slightly worrying, if only because it was a departure from the norm, but she was certain she'd come to get used to the integrated mithril weave that was meant to serve as the mail's replacement. Oh, and the articulating pauldrons were nice! They gave her an easier range of motion, which would work well with the more acrobatic feats she could do with her Chain summoned from her artificial right hand.

A proper test run, Ralene had said.

Kristen beamed in return. "If there is at least one physical attribute for which I may claim a certain degree of aptitude, it is just that: running."

And, well, the armor had already been paid for upon commission, so why not gather the proper feel of it with a stroll about Vel Anir on so fine a day? Seren even leaned on this, saying, "My Lady Kristen, take all the time you desire—I'm sure you'll be satisfied! And please do visit us again when comes the inevitable time for repairs."

"Surely! Farewell, Seren."

Outside, Kristen said to Ralene, "Perhaps a healthy jog, then, to a diner? I for one would not mind something to eat, something to drink—lunch has almost slipped right by."

Ralene

 

[Samantha Black]

Well, that wasn't quite what Ralene had in mind but the moment Kristen mentioned getting a meal she was all ears. The fastest way to Ral's good side was, in fact, through her stomach.

"You're speaking my language," she grinned to the Pirian girl in her shiny new armor. If her height didn't turn heads already, certainly the gleam of the metal would, "lead the way."

She followed a stride or two behind her, the sound of armor clanking a tune Ral was intimately familiar with. Physical drills were an everyday thing among the Knights, and with Elias there they now had an all-new training regimen set up under his lead. A jog through the capital? Certainly not something she'd done before, but a refreshing new experience to be sure.

When they finally arrived to Kristen's chosen locale, Ral took a moment to look around. It was a corner of the city she'd not visited before, a bit more posh than most places she'd pick for grub but then again Ralene had never been particularly picky about her food.

"What's good here?" she asked as they stepped in.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

The act itself was nothing new, running in full battle armor, but the experience was of a remarkably different character! With a good portion of the weight of her old kit gone, she felt freer, more limber. Her magic gave her no extra strength, no extra agility or endurance, nothing which would have helped to mitigate the fatigue of wearing a heavier suit of armor for an extended period of time—which was to say nothing of fighting in one! All Kristen had was what her flesh and blood body could provide, and for her particular level of physicality this new suit of armor just felt right.

The jog was almost more refreshing than it was draining, and soon Kristen and Ralene found themselves just outside of a place called Benti's Bites, an open air diner with a large patio space, this covered with a roof and housing small round tables, and a counter where pots of food rested with just their lids above the surface (and beneath they were heated).

Kristen let out a pleasant exhale once their run was done, and then answered, "Oh, my sister Amelia and I love the salads one can make here! Benti Carlyle is a man of sworn loyalty to House Pirian, and, as such, he has quite a few farmer friends from whom he makes his purchases. His own house sauces are a secret though, and I do adore them!"

Ralene

 

[Samantha Black]

"Salads..." Ralene visibly deflated as she looked up at the sign above their heads, "right. Hope Benti's got meat on the side, too."

Salads didn't support bulk, and Ralene was all bulk, but she'd never turn down a meal. Not even salad.

She let Kristen lead the way in to pick, or be seated as whatever the case may have been here. It was far more fancy than Ral was used to, but she made herself comfortable in her seat and nodded a thanks to a waitress who offered her a parchment menu. Fully armored patrons must not have been too terribly uncommon, but Kristen had no lack of eyes on her and whispers following her steps. It was instances like this that made Ral very grateful she was not a known entity among the commonfolk.

"You always such a celebrity everywhere you go?" she asked Kristen with a faint smirk.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Kristen blushed at the remark.

"I suppose what renown I have is the result of an intermingling of factors: of House Pirian's involvement with the commonfolk, of my precociousness as a child and my parents' leaning into the title of 'The Darling Daughter' which came of it, and..." Kristen winced, "...dreadfully, of my kidnapping some years ago, and the Battle of the Blades which ensued."

When first Kristen had enrolled into the Academy, she didn't talk about her kidnapping to anyone. Slowly over time and to those she trusted, she became more open about it. Now, imbued with a hardier resolve against the trauma, it was something she could at least bear mentioning where appropriate. It certainly was no secret, the Battle of the Blades, but now with the mental fortitude vested in her via her Dreadlord training she could broach the topic and weather its ugliness, its horridness, without withering away in anxiety as she would before.

Kristen made her order with the waitress, doing so with a smile despite the mention of her kidnapping. To Ralene's delight, there was meat one could order in with their salad. Kristen herself went an extra helping seasoned chicken, and sliced tomatoes, for hers.

Samantha Black