In Corellon's Name..
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Elith woke up, rolling out of his cot lazily and straightening his blanket neatly over the cot. He dressed himself quickly in some loose clothing, just enough to keep him decent as he left the room. As he opened the door, he looked down the dark, candle-lit hall at all the closed doors. He was the first one to wake up. Elith smiled, knowing he'd be able to bathe himself and prepare for the coming training quietly and peacefully. He walked slowly down the wood-covered floor, careful not to wake the other trainees. When he reached the washroom, he turned the small knob on the oil lamp sending a soft, orange glow jumping across the room. He quickly bathed himself and dried off, then dressed himself and began heading back to his room. He noticed a few more doors were open, and he was glad that he had woken as early as he had. The other recruits would soon be waiting for the rest of their morning to bathe and make time for prayer. Elith opened the door to his room and headed over to the small chest lying at the foot of his cot. He opened it slowly, pulling out a blade, shield, helm, and a suit of plate mail. Laying it all gently on his bed, he said a soft prayer, touching his hand to the plate. The plate glowed softly and Elith smiled at the success of his spell. He then picked up the armor and strapped the plate securely around him, making sure he left enough space so he could move gracefully when needed.
The Sergeant yelled out orders as the trainees rushed into place. Today's training would be with the defensive arts. They all knew how to wield a weapon and effectively use a shield. They also all knew how to use Corellon's healing gifts to close their and other's wounds. But many still had to learn about using Corellon's blessings in combat.
The Sergeant called out two names. Elith's ears perked and he instinctively stepped out of line, looking at the Sergeant. Elith quickly glanced from under his helm at the other man whose name had been called. Otherian was much larger than Elith. Otherian had spent his childhood studying the art of war while Elith was only discovering his talents as a fighter. But Elith showed no signs of fear. He had been taught that fear was the strongest weapon your enemy could use against you. He would not let himself fear.
The two stood in a small circle, shields and blades held at their sides, helms and armor securely in place. The Sergeant explained that Elith and Otherian would be his example for today. The Sergeant stepped up to both of them, placing a hand on each in turn, chanting softly as he did. Their armor began glowing as Elith's plate had before. Elith and Otherian both knew that the spell would protect them from any harm. The Sergeant then turned to the recruits and explained to them the purpose of this spell. The Sergeant then took a step back, smiled to both of the fighters, and nodded.
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The spar was quick, but got the point across. Neither Elith nor Otherian could manage to hit the other with a decent blow. The Sargeant then called out, and both fighters took a step back, sheathed their blades, and shook one another's hands.
After training had finished, the men were given some free time to relax and meditate on their own. Many men took their blades and bows and headed off to the fields nearby to hunt the orcs in the area. Elith stayed behind to pray and study. He hoped to one day learn the spell the Sargeant had cast upon his armor. Elith knew his spell was a much weaker version of the Sargeant's, and wouldn't last half as long. He stepped out of the warm sun and into the monastary.
As he came up to his door, he opened it slowly and began unstrapping his plate. He sat down and pulled the front of his plate off, placing it on his cot. He grinned, impressed, and ran his fingers over a small scratch on his armor. He could easily polish off the scratch, and he was glad the Sargeant's spell was so effective. After removing the rest of his armor and hanging it up, Elith laid down and looked up at the ceiling, repeating the same enchantment the Sargeant had said. Shortly after, his eyes grew heavy and Elith decided to rest for a while.
Elith sat up, glancing around the room with a worried look on his face. It was nothing, he thought, and breathed a sigh of relief. Suddenly, a horn sounded and Elith jumped out of his cot, hurriedly strapping on his plate, buckling his sheath around his waist, and placing his left hand in the straps of his shield. He pushed the door open with his shield and looked down both sides of the hall, panting. He heard the horn sound again, coming from the southern part of the monastary. Elith rushed down the hall, breathing heavily, his hands shaking anxiously. He turned down the hall into the common room, glancing around at all the other trainees running around. Elith looked around with a frown, trying to hear the various officers who were barking out orders. Elith spotted the Sargeant his squad had trained with and he rushed to the officer. After a few moments, all the trainees were lined up in front of their respective officers, awaiting orders. The horn continued to blare as the General stepped onto a table. He spoke loudly, but kept calm and appeared in control. He briefed the recruits. The orcs had pulled together and were marching toward the monastary and the town nearby. The founders of the monastary had promised the town they would always protect the town and its people from all threats and attacks, and today would be the first time in centuries the town would need to call on this promise.
The recruits lined up, forming three long lines. The archers were far in the back, their bows pulled taught, aimed to the sky. The second line consisted of mages and officers. They chanted quickly and fluently, enchanting the first lines of fighters. As the first flood of orcs came into view, the first line grew tense. These were not only the weak orcs the trainees had been used to fighting. Mixed in were stronger, faster orcs. The officers shouted out some orders….