[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/cd83dc89-6413-49cc-9e8d-a9fba609a17b.png [/img][/center][right][sub][@Hero] [@Eleven][/sub][/right] [hr] [i]They were only halfway there?[/i] Michail’s announcement had easily carried to the second carriage. Not that he was in much of a rush to get there, but this carriage ride almost changed his mind. He had never much appreciated the Fraldarius horses, but they had been far less jerky and generally prone to making their vehicle a bouncing box of bruised backs and achy knees. Between the turbulence of the carriage and the fact he was crammed in with a bunch of classmates he still hadn’t taken great strides to acquaint himself with, he was ready almost ready to engage in whatever exercise the faculty had prepared for the Rose Unit. [i][b]Almost. [/b][/i] Even if the carriage ride had been smoother, Kellen wasn’t sure if the knots in gut would have untied. Those were just as much due to the jarring motions of the carriage as it was by the thought that it would stop and Kellen would have to engage in the Rose Unit’s first “combat exercise”. Whatever that meant. Despite Kellen’s many attempts to cross-examine his teachers for information, he knew very little about what was to come. For the past two days of class, Kellen had been successful in avoiding the training ground. While the students had had some introductory history courses – material Kellen had learned and forgotten before – he had yet to be coerced by any of the faculty into combat. That lucky streak had seemingly come to an end early in the morning, when Auberon had shown up at his door, eyes ablaze as he told Kellen to grab his blade and meet him at gates. Ever since he had hung his blade and its scabbard on the wall, he had hadn’t touched it. Even wearing it on his hip for the short walk to the caravan made him feel a bit queasy, and he had been grateful to leave it in the cart now trudging along behind them. Anxiously, he looked down to his hands that had subconsciously curled into small balls. He gently tapped the left one on his leg, only for his sleeve to slide comfortably past the end of his hand. This would be another issue. Kellen had finally stirred himself sufficiently to bring his jacket to the Garreg Mach’s tailor, a middle-aged man who had instructed Kellen to add it to the pile of similarly ill-fitting garbs from other students. After Auberon’s appearance, Kellen had been quick to rush over to the tailor’s and relieved to find a hemmed sleeve laying atop his folded jacket. It wasn’t until he had sat down in the cart that he had realized that the tailor hadn’t finished his work. The left sleeve still remained unhemmed, and somehow appeared longer, perhaps due to the right. The cursed starboard sleeve had been hemmed certainly, but somehow the blasted tailor had gone too far. It now, despite Kellen’s many subtle attempts to stretch it out, sat about two-thirds of the way down his forearm. He had tried to compensate by rolling up the left farther, but even with his experience from the past few days, he found himself unable to keep it up for more than five minutes. With a sigh, he tried again to roll the boulder back up a hill that he knew it would come sliding down on. [color=63a2e4]“Sorry – I’m sorry!”[/color] The moment the cart had stopped and the door had opened, Kellen clambered over Imogen to spring out of the carriage. The moment his boots touched solid ground, he took a few deep breaths, squatting down to stretch his legs and calm himself. His momentary vertigo subsiding, his eyes were quick to dart over the immediate area. Any new locale prompted this reaction in Kellen, though when his gaze ended at the weapons cart, it stayed there for a few seconds too long. Satisfied, he looked back to the group of students who were emerging. Absently, he noted that the Gloucester girl and her House Leader were back together. She looked every part of the advisor to an unruly duke, and it reminded Kellen of the stories of the many Fraldarius’ who had counselled Blaiddyds through the ages. Looking at himself, he supposed he could understand why many had long lost track of the notion that Kellen might be like them, particularly with a sister as capable as Rhiannon. While the stop had seemed natural enough, Kellen was quick to pick up on the faculty all staring further down the road. His anxiety peaked as Michail armed himself, but Kellen did his best to remain calm. He knew intuitively where his sword sat in the carriage, and even if it had been jostled around on the ride he was sure he’d be able to find it quickly. Trying to remain calm, he took a few steps to the side to get a better view of whatever was causing the consternation amongst his teachers. It was a single rider -- No. Two. Was this part of the exercise? Without thinking, he took a few steps closer to the adults to hear what they were discussing. [color=63a2e4]“Should we, um, arm ourselves? ”[/color] He said, though it was barely louder than the sound of the river. He looked back to his fellow students, his body remaining still but his eyes darting about behind to see if anyone else might be coming up the road.