The last vestiges of daylight streamed in through the windows at the end of the hall, and Angus shifted a few inches to avoid the light aimed into his eyes. He stood confidently, back straight, feet a foot apart, and hands clasped behind his back. A small grin was on his face, and he looked back at the various skillmasters as they passed him. The young man pondered the different skills available, and measured his own skills against the needs of the trades. Angus wasn't the sneakiest of people, and he was a little too big to be hiding in bushes, so being Ranger was out of the question. He had already spoken with the Battlemaster, but if he was offered a place in battleschool again, Angus might take it. Healing wasn't really his thing, and the glares he was receiving from the Alchemy Master didn't endear her to anyone. That left the sailmaster, an old man in baggy clothing who looked like a sea breeze would blow him overboard, and the brewmaster, an ostentatious man with a less-than sober appearance. Redmont was said to have the best skillmasters in Araluen, but Angus was less inclined to believe the legends now that he saw them in person. Yes, appearance isn't everything, but you'd think that they'd at least try to put on their best face for Choosing Day.