Yes, We're Hiring

[Azmere]

6th of Winter, 515 AV

The dark of night was still lingering even though Syna was trying to break through the haze with her warmth and rays. The cloud cover was low as they dark figured held swollen bellies of snow just waiting for the breath of Zulrav to release their bounty upon the Sea of Grass. The temperature was down right cold but it didn’t seem to bother Azmere. He had other thoughts on his mind. Today was going to be a first. Like nearly every other first in recent years, Azmere was years behind his peers because he had been led astray from his duties. The young man stood a moment in his tent and shook from the weight of his guilt. The heaviest part of disappointing those you respect is having to ask for forgiveness because you still need their help. In truth, Azmere could survive on his own but he did not wish a lonely existence. The sudden betrayal and loss of a friend will cause one to rethink his stance on life.

As he dressed, the warrior set about dismissing these thoughts and began to focus on the importance of the meeting he was to attend. He had run from this day for almost a decade. His family expected him to join The Watch and follow in the paths of his forefathers. Azmere wanted to party. He wanted to be his own boss. That didn’t turn out so well so here he was, nearly an old man by Watch standards and he was going to be a recruit. His face burned from the mocking voice within his mind. He echoed deep thoughts of rejection and scorn though occasionally, some good old fashion guilt would surface. Azmere put on his quiver and slipped his cloak when Asmodeus opened his tent. “C’mon, boy. We’ve got some grass to level.” A famous quote from the ankal and he was gone as quickly as he had come. Azmere looped his club onto his belt, donned his gloves and grabbed Vihar. The warrior slipped out into the wind and cold to find very little direct light in the sky however, there was a strange glow along the horizon.

The two men mounted their striders and rode off towards the tent city, Endrykas. There were a few dozen miles away so there was no need to rush but Asmodeus couldn’t resist pushing his old mare against the younger stallion. Azmere would not be outdone this morning and tucked down against Hephiestian. The horse knew whenever he felt the warmth of his Drykas in this way that it was time to fly. It didn’t take long to distance himself from his ankal and after a few chimes passed, Azmere slowed his steed by sitting up in the yvas and pulling slightly on the handle. The strider responded by coming to a medium trot which allowed Asmodeus to catch up after a few more chimes. Azmere looked over and could see the red blood pushing up against the man’s cheeks. This was one of those moments that made Azmere realize he had to work twice as hard to learn and do everything that he skipped or missed during his rebellious stage. His grandfather deserved to be resting with a bunch of furs draped over his big shoulders and a warm fire blazing by his feet. Azmere swallowed and returned his gaze forward to the sprawling bazaar that was Endrykas as it unfolded before them.

Scars are just stories that we wear. - Asmodeus

Textbox by Firenze

[Azmere]

They rode in from the west on the main path right up to the main Watch pavilion. They would find a Tayvek who had the power to oversee the process of admission for Azmere. Asmodeus pulled ahead of Azmere and dismounted first moving rather quickly for his age. The younger Drykas followed suit and fell in to step as they entered the large tent. Several men stood inside, armed, awake and only momentarily interested in the new arrivals. A middle-aged man looked up from his list of lists and set the parchment down on his small, simple desk. He rose and moved around the furniture with a curious look on his face. He had a hard look about him that suggested many years of service in a hard life. The lack of emotion in his eyes suggested that he was also a man of little patience. His approach stalled and he tilted his head to the side while he studied the two new faces in his domain. He lifted a hand and his mouth opened as if to speak but then he erupted into a shout. “Asmodeus, you old war hound!” The man came forth and embraced the old Stormwarden. The hug was rough, short and accented by a mutual slap on the back. “What brings you to my hole?”

Asmodeus put his big paw on the middle aged man’s shoulder. “Aris Riverwatcher, it has been a long time. How are you?” The older man’s eyes glinted as he stared across the dimly lit pavilion. The lanterns placed on the support poles failed to give much visibility beyond arm’s reach. Aris turned and marched back to his tiny desk to mess with some papers. “Overworked. Underpaid. Petchin’ tired.” After reshuffling some items, he turned and leveled a stern gaze to the older man. “You never answered my question, Warden.” Asmodeus picked up on the change in tone and simply winked.

“This is my grandson, Azmere. He-“ The ankal never got a chance to finish. “He’s here to join The Watch! Is he?” The Tayvek moved forth with a speed that seemed to compliment the sharp edge of his tone. He burned his gaze into Azmere who stood firm but certainly felt uncomfortable with this man’s hot breath being on his neck. “I see the scars haven’t fallen off yet. I suppose you think you’re some kind of warrior, yes?” The man took a step back but took a more predatory stance since he didn’t measure up to Azmere when standing next to him. Azmere bit his lower lip. Asmodeus had warned him to keep his mouth shut unless asked a question that was pertinent to the duties of a Watchman. “You Diamond boys aren’t very pretty, are you? My daughter married a pig of a man from your clan but he’s half uglier and half prettier though I’d give him the line for being one solid creature. You’re broken. No Watch for you.” He turned and walked away towards his desk. Asmodeus went to speak but Azmere was the first to respond.

“So it’s your bitterness that keeps our people safe?” Azmere did not add any sarcastic tone or ridiculous pitch; he simply spoke the words. One could tell it was something used as a substitute. The others in the tent turned and began to pay attention. “Bitterness? No, boy. It’s my experience that keeps us safe. What experience have you? Fighting with your half-brother? Hunting for a meal of one?” Aris sneered and approached Azmere with his hands balled into fists. “I could shatter your jaw as easily as you did my wife’s cousin with that club!” The last words rang of hatred. Azmere stood absolutely still with a calm expression on his face but his eyes showed pain. He recalled that scene from all those years ago. That was the day that sent Azmere back years.

Scars are just stories that we wear. - Asmodeus

Textbox by Firenze

[Azmere]

Aris seemed ready to fight but never crossed the imaginary line between their bodies. The applicant lifted his head, no longer ashamed of his former self. Azmere embraced the trials he put himself through because they gave him a perspective that many did not have. In a soft voice that was strong in its support, he responded to Aris. “It was in defens-“ Aris waved his hands to end the conversation. He knew personal vendettas were not allowed to linger for so long, it was just that seeing Azmere roused long dormant thoughts.

There were a few chimes of silent stillness that seemed to make everyone uneasy in the tent. Finally, Aris turned back to Azmere and gave him a once over. When he spoke again, there was no more anger but cold reason. “Can you fight?” Azmere nodded. Asmodeus tried to say something but Aris shot him a look as if to say Stay out of this, old man. The interrogator returned his focus to the young Diamond male. “I see you carry a powerful bow. How good are you?” Azmere resisted the temptation to smile and decided a simple answer would be best. “Good enough.” Aris smirked and almost laughed. “I’m sure you are, boy.” The Tayvek walked past Azmere and then came back to Asmodeus. “How does he perform in the web?” Asmodeus lit up. “He’s a natural, Aris, you sh-“ Again, Aris cut him off. It was easy to see that this man did not like flamboyant anything. Simple. Short. Easy. Aris left the tent abruptly. Azmere didn’t hesitate and went after him. After a quick scan, he found the senior Watchman stroking the ears of Hephiestian. “This is a fine beast, young man.” Azmere came up next to Aris and smiled. “Yes, he is.” Aris didn’t linger and took a few steps back. He looked to Azmere and sighed.

“You’re lucky we have open patrols, boy. I don’t care if your grandpa is Zulrav, hisself, you annoy me.” The tired soldier turned to Asmodeus who was about to burst from the excitement. “Old man, do you recommend this youth fit for duty to the Watch?” Aris’s vice was flat and monotonous. Asmodeus nodded vigorously. “Very well, Azmere Stormblood. I shall send a rider with your orders once I have a moment to find some hole to stick you in, now leave.” With that, Aris disappeared into his tent. Asmodues skipped over to his grandson and smacked him firmly on the arm and then mounted his mare. Azmere climbed atop Hephiestian and the two returned home. Azmere knew things were going to get very busy, very soon. He was ready.

Scars are just stories that we wear. - Asmodeus

Textbox by Firenze

[Tribal]

G R A D E S

Azmere

Experience

• Philosophy: 1
• Riding, Horse: 1
• Observation: 2
• Rhetoric: 1
• Persausion: 2
• Socialization: 1

Lore

• What it means to be old in Endrykas
• Joining The Watch
• Aris Riverwatcher: Tavehk
• Aris Riverwatcher: Holds a grudge
• Aris Riverwatcher: Has a daughter
• Aris Riverwatcher: Doesn't like Azmere

Notes

I'm not sure if you already know, but each time a different character speaks, you should start on a new line. This might help make your stories flow a bit better and also make them easier on the eye. I got lost once or twice as to who was speaking sometimes, but if you turn this:

There were a few chimes of silent stillness that seemed to make everyone uneasy in the tent. Finally, Aris turned back to Azmere and gave him a once over. When he spoke again, there was no more anger but cold reason. “Can you fight?” Azmere nodded. Asmodeus tried to say something but Aris shot him a look as if to say Stay out of this, old man. The interrogator returned his focus to the young Diamond male. “I see you carry a powerful bow. How good are you?” Azmere resisted the temptation to smile and decided a simple answer would be best. “Good enough.” Aris smirked and almost laughed. “I’m sure you are, boy.” The Tayvek walked past Azmere and then came back to Asmodeus. “How does he perform in the web?” Asmodeus lit up. “He’s a natural, Aris, you sh-“ Again, Aris cut him off. It was easy to see that this man did not like flamboyant anything. Simple. Short. Easy. Aris left the tent abruptly. Azmere didn’t hesitate and went after him. After a quick scan, he found the senior Watchman stroking the ears of Hephiestian. “This is a fine beast, young man.” Azmere came up next to Aris and smiled. “Yes, he is.” Aris didn’t linger and took a few steps back. He looked to Azmere and sighed.

Into this:

There were a few chimes of silent stillness that seemed to make everyone uneasy in the tent. Finally, Aris turned back to Azmere and gave him a once over. When he spoke again, there was no more anger but cold reason. “Can you fight?”
Azmere nodded.
Asmodeus tried to say something but Aris shot him a look as if to say Stay out of this, old man.

The interrogator returned his focus to the young Diamond male. “I see you carry a powerful bow. How good are you?”
Azmere resisted the temptation to smile and decided a simple answer would be best. “Good enough.”
Aris smirked and almost laughed. “I’m sure you are, boy.” The Tavehk walked past Azmere and then came back to Asmodeus. “How does he perform in the web?” Asmodeus lit up.
“He’s a natural, Aris, you sh-“
Again, Aris cut him off. It was easy to see that this man did not like flamboyant anything. Simple. Short. Easy. Aris left the tent abruptly.

Azmere didn’t hesitate and went after him. After a quick scan, he found the senior Watchman stroking the ears of Hephiestian. “This is a fine beast, young man.”
Azmere came up next to Aris and smiled. “Yes, he is.” Aris didn’t linger and took a few steps back. He looked to Azmere and sighed.

I think you'll find a vast improvement even in your own reading time during the editing step (the spelling is Tavehk by the way).

Other than that, great post, I like the history; didn't realise there was an existing tie there that involved the use of a club. Engaging, humorous, and enjoyable to read; thank you.