RP:Cold Knights

Summary: Ameno, Venturilite draconian, approaches Frostmaw with clear determination in his eyes. He would speak with Knight-Commander Lionel O'Connor in request to serve both guild and kingdom.

Frostmaw: Walled Courtyard

It's a cold day in Frostmaw. Not that it's ever otherwise, but in Frostmaw, there are varying degrees of freezing. With winter's chill in full swing, the rare sunny mornings are treated with glory, but it's a sunless sky and full wind that greet Lionel O'Connor as he steps outside to observe the swordsmanship exercises of numerous recruits. None of these individuals are his own subordinates, so the man can't help a certain detached feeling as he eyes them. But he knows how vital they are. In the coming months, war with Larket could cost these recruits their lives, and the only thing that will save them is practice, practice, practice. Lionel's relatively light attire for such frosty conditions is still turning heads every time a fresh batch of newcomers are stationed at the castle, and just now, one such newcomer has his brow cocked in the Catalian's direction. Lionel ignores it, and begins instructing the squadron on better form. Gods know they'll need it, standing here with hunched backs and legs half-crossed mid-swing.

Chilliness was the understatement to Ameno a Draconian of silvery white scales. His wearing defintly made for a warmer climate, though he did think to to wear a warm dark blue flannel cloak around him, along with his dark blue tunic. At his side was a hiltless blade. He had wandered some time up to the chilly climate of Frostmaw, and had figured that if any training for knighthood would likely be done at the keep. Approaching the castle grounds, as he entered the courtyard he took time to observe the the recruits being trained, and more importantly how the officers instructed each movement of their blades. Turning his ice blue eyes towards the castle gate, he assumed the figure to be of some importance, as he didn't seem to be obligated to instruct several recruits nor did he join the recruits to be trained. Approaching the steps he pauses unsure of what do next, whether to wait to be noticed or to present himself. For safety and respectful sake he chose to perform somewhere in the middle of those descions waiting for the officer to make eye contact before making contact. When the officer would take notice he would respectfully bow, and say, "I wish to be trained as knight, Sir."

Lionel goes through the motions, exemplifying proper stature for two -- no, three -- different sword forms. Of late, he's finally been learning to relax and be himself a bit more with these next-generation soldiers of the crown. Were it not for the telltale silver brooch of Frostmaw pinned to his solid black dress shirt, one might mistake him now for just another queen's man. Ameno's arrival is noted despite no visible cues therein. Lionel keeps his focus on the task at hand, but there's a pretty decent chance he was the first to see the draconian in the cold distance. He is, after all, honed of senses. At an opportune moment the Catalian redirects his attention to the newcomer, his face stoic enough to brook no quarter with thieves but friendly in its slight smile to let good-natured sorts know he's open to hearing their thoughts. The request is not one he hasn't heard before, so he doesn't seem fazed in the slightest. "A knight, eh? I know a thing or two about knights, friend. The name's Lionel. Apparently I'm a knight, myself, although I'm not so sure I'm the best example of a knight you'll find. Still, the season's harsh and the pickings are slim. I reckon I could train you, ser...?" He leaves it lingering, anticipating Ameno to introduce himself.

"Ameno, Sir," he replied, not lifting his eyes until told to do so or rise from his knees. "I am from venturil."

Lionel wastes no time waving his hand forward to indicate Ameno may rise. By the time Ameno should follow suit, he'll doubtless note the man's expression is easygoing. Perhaps surprisingly so, given Lionel's status. But it is, after all, 'just how he rolls.' He speaks quickly, and cleanly, and casually enough, although nearby recruits and more than one training officers hold gaze over the Venturilite. "If you're looking for someone who won't let you stand upright without full respects, you might want to squire elsewhere," the Catalian jests, his azure eyes full of good cheer. "Come. We'll get you situated. There will be something of a..." He pauses, searching for the right term. "...background check, I suppose? My assistant, Christina, will need to ask you a few more questions. She's got this thing, I don't know how to explain it -- she's really good at gauging people." Lionel nods, and he's already ushering Ameno toward the castle gates.

Rising from his kneeling stance, Ameno followed Lionel through up to the castle gates and through. "Of course, I would be willing to answer any questions she might have."

Lionel escorts Ameno through the thick red barred doors and into the keep. Inside, it is nicely warm; hearthfires are kept, three on each side, all the way up to the final door. That one, ornate as it is, would take them to the war room and eventually the throne room. The former is somewhere Lionel is well familiar with, the latter is for Queen Hildegarde, and neither is on the docket for today. Instead, the champion removes his black glove and swings open one unassuming wooden door, then the next, then heads through a dimly-lit hall and opens one last door, He's taken Ameno to a modestly-decorated office arrangement. An ebony desk, inlaid with studded rubies, is the centerpiece of this office, and seated on the other side -- but quickly rising -- is a woman, her skin light brown and her hair pitch black and her stance far more formal than Lionel's. "Christina," Lionel opens, "this is Ameno." 'Christina' scoffs, rolls her eyes, but then in one smooth motion extends her arm to shake the draconian's hand. "A pleasure, and please, sit down. And *please*, be aware: my name is in fact Briar Ku Risu."

Following, following Lionel to last office, he took the hand of the woman, and shook it once, then removed his hand. "An Honor to meet you, Briar Ku Risu," putting forth the effort to pronounce her name as she pronounced it. He sat down in the chair, adjusting for both his wings and tail before sitting down.

Briar effectively takes over at this point. Lionel leans against the wall, one foot upright -- how uncivilized! -- and seems utterly without concern. Especially astute observers, however, will note that he is in fact concentrating intensely, it is simply that he fades into the background with such ease that most will mistake him for nonchalant, if not downright bored. Briar, seated back down, clears her throat and begins. Her voice is crisp, professional. "Tell me where you were born, please, and where you grew up, and two things in your past which have contributed to the man you are today." She waits, a polite smile creasing her lips.

He paused before he spoke, to think about what he needed to say and what not. He just hoped when it came to parents he needn't have to say his non dragon side. "I was laid, but I was hatched in Venturil at the Shelter for the Younglings. It is there were I have grown up, though I did attend at the College in Chartsend for two years, though I still spend the greater part of my life in Venturil." He paused to allow a break between his words. "I was fortunate, to have been given a home by the shelter, Venturil is a rough and savage land, full of lawlessness, since the absense of our king, I have always felt a need that perhaps I owe something to these lands for the past and sins of a father, I also have felt a need to defend those who cannot defend themselves, but more importantly I have desired to serve."

Briar's expression is stoic for the bulk of Ameno's explanation, but she flinches subtly toward the end. She's obviously been moved by the man's account, but professionalism is her strong suit, and she intends to remain as professional as possible. "I... see," she says, stalling for time in order to freshly compose herself. "Normally, I have several more questions for new arrivals. However, I have decided to shorthand this considerably. I have only one more thing I must ask. You desire to defend the weak, and to serve, you say. This is all well and good -- I share that desire. As does Lionel, even if you wouldn't know it from looking at him." To this, Lionel waves a gloved hand, but does not speak. "Ameno," Briar continues, "what drew you -here- in particular? Why Frostmaw? Why Queen Hildegarde...?"

He paused holding his breath before releasing it. "I came to Frostmaw because I knew that if anyone could train me, it would only be the best in the land." he paused. "Word rarely reaches Venturil, but few haven't heard of Queen Hildegarde's retaking of Frostmaw, but why I choose to come, was the war that has come, I know little of the enemy, but from what I know, is activities are not of honor. I don't like bullies, I don't care where they are from."

Briar purses her lips as the commander hops off from his wall perch and gives Ameno a quick study. "It won't be easy," Lionel begins, his interjection clearly a deliberate and well-timed one. "You'll train hard, and our enemies will fight tooth and nail to see you brought down. Defense of the peace is an easy enough proclamation. Understanding what it takes is something else altogether." He awaits Ameno's reply, looking deeply into the draconian for signs and assurances of readiness.

Ameno paused, thinking carefully with his answer, before speaking. "What will you have me do?" His answer less of a question, more of statement of commitment.

Briar's eyes cast wayward; she seems to wish speech, but refrains. Instead, she feigns interest in a nearby tome -- "The Lives of Kings." Lionel speaks instead. "I'd have you serve." He extends an arm for a warrior's shake, adding, "the realm could use more men like you, and it still might not be enough. But you'll be seasoned, outfitted, protected by comrades, and honed to your best and beyond. You'll spar for membership at the first opportunity. Welcome to Frostmaw, Ameno -- and a tentative welcome to the Warrior's Guild "

He shook his hand with a shake. "I am Honored to be accepted." He then turned his gaze to Christina, "Briar Ku Risu, don't ever change your name, it is beautiful as it is."