Helene breathed a sigh of relief when her shackles were removed. She nervously followed along with the others towards the armory while rubbing her wrists. Why was it that she was the only one who's visibly nervous and afraid out of the whole group? Didn't they understand the graveness of the task ahead of them or do they simply not care about anything at all due to the coldness in their hearts? She was one to talk, she was branded as one of the worst of the worst among them. Did that mean she was as cold and uncaring too?
Her thoughts were interrupted when they arrived at the armory. They were to choose among the weapons laid out for them. Despite not knowing anything about combat, Helene was very amazed at the variety of weapons laid out before her. She glanced around and saw her fellow prisoners- well, sinners- were picking out their preferred choice of weapons. Her eyes even widened in surprise when one of them picked a chain whip out of all the possible weapons he could choose.
As for Helene, she just stood dumbfounded as the rest of them got fitted for their armor and got branded with their tattoos. She was getting filled with anxiety because she wasn't really a fighter type of girl but then she realized something. She continued to scan through the weaponry. If the king really did have a variety of weapons... There! She had a smile on her face, the first sincere smile she had in a while, as she found what she was looking for.
She was so glad to have found the king had multiple options for musical instruments, a classic choice for a bard if that's the right term for Helene's class. Guitars, violins, drums, there were so many to choose from. She then laid her eyes a golden handheld harp, adjusted the strings a bit and testing out its melody, and she knew she got herself a weapon.
Next, she got fitted for her armor. They saw her pick a harp as her weapon and they immediately knew they needed to fit her with something light yet could still protect her from a few hits so, in the end, she wore a red dress with a bit of armor plating, perfect for a bard like Helene. As a druid, she wasn't used to wearing something a bit heavy on her but times were different now. This heavy thing on her could end up saving her life one day and she just had to get used to it.
Lastly was her tattoo. She wanted to get it at the center of her lower back. It was a bit painful than she imagined but often times she would burst out laughing because she was ticklish. After a few moments, Helene was finally branded as the Sin of Sloth, something she knew she will never be proud of for the rest of her life.
"Oh dear heavens, what have I gotten myself into?". Helene sadly said aloud.