The sun shone high in the sky over the grand city of Roseview on the first day of the Summer Festival. Only a few wispy clouds floated lazy against the otherwise undisturbed blue of the sky, promising good weather for the event. People milled about in droves on the streets of Roseview, perusing the colorful stalls that lined the streets, and gleefully watching the acrobats, dancers, and illusionists that competed for attention in the crowded market squares. People lounged and picnicked in the sun amidst the blooming flowers of Roseview's famous garden. The festivities even extended beyond the strong stone walls of Roseview and into the fields and farmland beyond. Here, events that required more room were held, from foot races to archery tournaments.
Within the walls of Roseview, towards the center, was another, higher wall. Enclosed within it was a majestic castle made of pale stone; its many towers capped with a polished metal resembling rose gold. Just within these secondary walls, people bustled about, preparing for one of the main events of the Summer Festival. The Choosing was an important event for the entirety of the Kingdom, for it was there that the newest generation of Slayers would be selected from among the common people. No matter one's background, if they had the talent could rise to become one of the Kingdom's greatest protectors. It was considered among the highest honors, and all common folk respected the Slayers, be it out of admiration or fear of their strength.
Everyone knew the order of events for the Choosing. First, any applicants would be put through a series of basic combat drills by instructors from the normal army. The goal was not necessarily to win, but rather so that the instructors could measure one's physical fitness, reflexes, and potential. Many failed quite readily at this part, and it was always rather amusing to watch. The crowds especially liked some of the less soft instructors, who would taunt and embarrass easy foes. This behavior had the practical benefit of identifying the more hot headed participants. This event was usually held for the entire day, as anyone could come from the audience to challenge an instructor. Those who pass this test are then instructed to go into a special pavilion. Those who have done so would tell you they were sat down in front of some geezer who told them to hold a rock and stared at them for several seconds. The majority of people would be turned away at this point, though few commoners knew why.
At the end of the day, towards sunset, any who were chosen would be gathered in public and announced by the senior Slayer in attendance. They would be given two days leave to enjoy the festivities, but would then be whisked off to Grouburn for training under the tutelage of Slayer Drill Masters; men who make even the army's equivalent shudder in fear.
This year's senior Slayer in attendance was a man by the name of Robert Wispels. He had served long as a Slayer, 25 years this day if you counted his Choosing. His short hair was grey, though still thick, and his green eyes had an almost feral look to them. His face is weather-worn and wrinkled, and one need not look long to find a scar anywhere on his skin. He lead the Slayer legion known as the Lanterns for many years before taking up a less physically demanding job in semi-retirement.
__________
Robert sat quietly at a table erected under a small shaded pavilion, where he would observe the Choosing. It was a little too warm for his liking this far South, at this time of the year, and he found himself longing for the cool clime of the Everautumn as he wiped sweat from his brow with a handkerchief. Must be going senile to remember that beast ridden forest in a positive light he thought. Before him, a clearing had been made and several instructors had already taken up posts within it, many of them stretching and warming up. They would rotate out with others whenever they became too tired, but it was still going to be a strenuous day for them. Robert knew none of them would have passed up the opportunity, though. Perhaps they lacked what was needed to be a Slayer, but each of them was honored to be the measure of those who may one day guard their Kingdom from the beasts of the North.
It would be only a short time before the gate to the courtyard was lifted and general public allowed to enter and participate in the choosing. Robert found himself playing with the hilt of his sword out of impatience. He'd attended last year's choosing as well, though not in this official capacity, and had been altogether unimpressed. Sure, those few who showed promise may become fine Slayers in their own right, but he'd seen no one who had truly stood out. He was reminded of his own Choosing, years ago, where he had witnessed the first appearance of many who would go on to become truly legendary Slayers, chief among them Kenath Hall, who would go on to become leader of the prestigious Outer Guard. Perhaps the time of legends was over, however. The Lycans appeared to be in disarray nowadays, their attacks less frequent and less effective. Perhaps the Kingdom had no need of extraordinary Slayers anymore. At the rate settlements were expanding into the Everautumn, he may himself live to see the day when the Kingdom of Aauron spanned the whole of the continent. Unlikely, though. These old bones are liable to give way any moment he mused.
Just as this thought occurred to him, Robert heard the sounds of the gate's ratchet being operated. Slowly it rose, to reveal the streets beyond, bustling with activity. The Choosing was open. The instructors in the clearing brandished their training swords and began to beckon the crowds to come through.
Within the walls of Roseview, towards the center, was another, higher wall. Enclosed within it was a majestic castle made of pale stone; its many towers capped with a polished metal resembling rose gold. Just within these secondary walls, people bustled about, preparing for one of the main events of the Summer Festival. The Choosing was an important event for the entirety of the Kingdom, for it was there that the newest generation of Slayers would be selected from among the common people. No matter one's background, if they had the talent could rise to become one of the Kingdom's greatest protectors. It was considered among the highest honors, and all common folk respected the Slayers, be it out of admiration or fear of their strength.
Everyone knew the order of events for the Choosing. First, any applicants would be put through a series of basic combat drills by instructors from the normal army. The goal was not necessarily to win, but rather so that the instructors could measure one's physical fitness, reflexes, and potential. Many failed quite readily at this part, and it was always rather amusing to watch. The crowds especially liked some of the less soft instructors, who would taunt and embarrass easy foes. This behavior had the practical benefit of identifying the more hot headed participants. This event was usually held for the entire day, as anyone could come from the audience to challenge an instructor. Those who pass this test are then instructed to go into a special pavilion. Those who have done so would tell you they were sat down in front of some geezer who told them to hold a rock and stared at them for several seconds. The majority of people would be turned away at this point, though few commoners knew why.
At the end of the day, towards sunset, any who were chosen would be gathered in public and announced by the senior Slayer in attendance. They would be given two days leave to enjoy the festivities, but would then be whisked off to Grouburn for training under the tutelage of Slayer Drill Masters; men who make even the army's equivalent shudder in fear.
This year's senior Slayer in attendance was a man by the name of Robert Wispels. He had served long as a Slayer, 25 years this day if you counted his Choosing. His short hair was grey, though still thick, and his green eyes had an almost feral look to them. His face is weather-worn and wrinkled, and one need not look long to find a scar anywhere on his skin. He lead the Slayer legion known as the Lanterns for many years before taking up a less physically demanding job in semi-retirement.
__________
Robert sat quietly at a table erected under a small shaded pavilion, where he would observe the Choosing. It was a little too warm for his liking this far South, at this time of the year, and he found himself longing for the cool clime of the Everautumn as he wiped sweat from his brow with a handkerchief. Must be going senile to remember that beast ridden forest in a positive light he thought. Before him, a clearing had been made and several instructors had already taken up posts within it, many of them stretching and warming up. They would rotate out with others whenever they became too tired, but it was still going to be a strenuous day for them. Robert knew none of them would have passed up the opportunity, though. Perhaps they lacked what was needed to be a Slayer, but each of them was honored to be the measure of those who may one day guard their Kingdom from the beasts of the North.
It would be only a short time before the gate to the courtyard was lifted and general public allowed to enter and participate in the choosing. Robert found himself playing with the hilt of his sword out of impatience. He'd attended last year's choosing as well, though not in this official capacity, and had been altogether unimpressed. Sure, those few who showed promise may become fine Slayers in their own right, but he'd seen no one who had truly stood out. He was reminded of his own Choosing, years ago, where he had witnessed the first appearance of many who would go on to become truly legendary Slayers, chief among them Kenath Hall, who would go on to become leader of the prestigious Outer Guard. Perhaps the time of legends was over, however. The Lycans appeared to be in disarray nowadays, their attacks less frequent and less effective. Perhaps the Kingdom had no need of extraordinary Slayers anymore. At the rate settlements were expanding into the Everautumn, he may himself live to see the day when the Kingdom of Aauron spanned the whole of the continent. Unlikely, though. These old bones are liable to give way any moment he mused.
Just as this thought occurred to him, Robert heard the sounds of the gate's ratchet being operated. Slowly it rose, to reveal the streets beyond, bustling with activity. The Choosing was open. The instructors in the clearing brandished their training swords and began to beckon the crowds to come through.
