Oliver jumped as the metal doors slammed behind him. He looked around furtively to see if anyone noticed. Somemouse probably did, though no one seemed to pay him any mind. He shuddered to himself and adjusted the strap on his medicine bag as he followed the watchmice down the hallway. The hallway was lined with the legacy of the Redwatch and the Redfort. Shiny swords and shields- just out of reach for the more... entrepreneurially minded sort. The next room by comparison was drab and dreary- there were still swords and shields- just in a big unorganized pile in the center of the room. Spear racks stood there, decrepit, half empty. Unsheathed swords and knives lay in a mess on the floor. Cloth vests and tattered scraps of chainmail was heaped unceremoniously nearby. 

The recruits were told to arm themselves. 

At the front of the pack, Oliver found himself less walking to the pile, and more pushed towards it, as the mice behind him silently surged forward, intent on claiming the best weapons for themselves. Oliver himself stood unsteadily at the edge of the pile- he'd never fought a mouse before, never swung a sword or chopped with an axe. He had been under the impression that the Redwatch would teach him how to fight over time, though the foreboding look of the elevator in front of them gave Oliver the sinking feeling that he was going to have to get experienced with his choice of weapons quickly. 

Most of the mice around him grabbed at swords and axes- swords being the weapon of choice for mice, a noble and brave weapon. Many stories were told of brave Watchmice slaying vicious gnashers with their trusty and legendary swords, so it was no surprise that that was what most mice defaulted to. Reaching into the pile and avoiding the bare blades, Oliver grasped at the handle of the closest sword he could find and pulled it out. The result was one of the few swords that still had a sheath, and even a belt to go along with it. 

He quickly fastened the belt around him and drew the sword, examining it. It was short. It was barely longer than his forearm, an oversized knife if anything. While it seemed to be made well enough, Oliver had never used such a weapon, and had the sinking feeling he'd just as easily cut himself as he would accidentally drop the bit of steel. Glancing at a nearby spear rack, he hesitantly reached out and grabbed one. 

This weapon was long- much longer than the sword, easily his height with a steel point affixed to the end of it. It was almost as light as the sword too. Light enough to hold out and easy enough to poke somemouse with. Oly opted to carry this weapon as well, and walked towards the elevator. Carrying any more weapons would probably be too cumbersome of him, not to mention greedy. That, and all the good weapons seemed to have been taken by this point.

Walking to the elevator and nervously glancing over the precipice, he stood next to a bigger mouse with a shield and sword with a claw for a pommel. He was too scared to say anything.