The night rain pattered lightly against the ruined stone as Weslir ascended the steps of Ost Barandor. The warm glow of a dancing flame flickered in the centre of the fortress, hissing quietly as the water cast itself into the fire and turned to steam.
A figure stood there, warming himself in the glow, hood raised against the elements. Only the trimmed black goatee adorning his chin and was visible; The rest of his face was obscured behind the long shadows the hood cast.
"Weslir!" His voice cut through the pitter-patter of the raindrops, deep and confident.
"Hail, Ring!" Weslir called back, pushing his hood far enough back to reveal his face to his friend, but not so much as to surrender his long hair to the rain. "Why have you chosen such a mournful place to meet?"
Zaringard, or Ring, as Weslir nicknamed him, smiled mysteriously. "Come to the fire, I'll tell you all about it. You'll enjoy this, trust me."
Weslir obliged, passing through the arch and stepping over a crevasse in the rock, which seemed to be in the process of birthing a fledgeling tributary of the Brandywine. He made his way up to the fire, pulling off his gloves and holding his hands close to the flames, the half-healed scar of the GreyWatch glinting in the firelight.
Zaringard nodded approvingly. "It's healing well."
Weslir nodded, eyeing the silvery lines etched into his skin. "Yes, but you didn't call me here to check on my hand."
"You're right. I called you here to finish your initiation."
Weslir raised an eyebrow. "The oath and the cut were insufficient?"
Zaringard nodded slowly, turning away from the fire and motioning for Weslir to follow him. He did so, and Ring led him to the edge of the ruins, which ended abruptly as the cliff fell away into the Brandywine far below.
"Nice view."
Zaringard chuckled darkly at Weslir's humour. "It is."
"You brought me sightseeing. In the night. In the rain."
"I brought you diving."
"In the night, in the rai- Wait, you brought me What?" Weslir spluttered.
"Diving." Said Zaringard calmly.
"You're a lunatic."
"You're a slave to adrenaline."
"Yeah, but you're still a lunatic."
Zaringard shrugged. "Alright. Fine. If you want to be the only GreyWatch member who doesn't do it."
Weslir gaped at him. "You can't honestly expect people will go for this."
"Will you?" Asked Ring.
"I'm a slave to adrenaline."
Zaringard smirked as Weslir peered over the edge.
"How far down is it?"
"I don't know."
"Oh, great," said Weslir. "Just Jump, Wes! I have no idea how high up we are, and I don't know if you'll survive the impact, but its going to be fun!"
"Don't act like you're not going to do it." grinned Zaringard.
"Have you done it?"
Ring nodded.
"That settles it then. Can't have you outshining me." Weslir said, beginning to unbuckle the straps on his armour. "Give me a hand with this."
Zaringard stepped forward, loosening several buckles and allowing Weslirs chestplate to fall into his arms, raising an eyebrow as he caught it. "Where did you get Elven armour?"
"Damric."
"I see." said Zaringard.
"Jealous?"
"No."
"Sure?"
"No."
"Ha!" Weslir grinned as the mail skirt fell away from his legs, followed by each plate of the legs. He stood in front of Zaringard clad in a loose-fitting linen tunic, similarly styled breeches and thick leather ankle wraps.
"Ready?" Queried Zaringard.
"As I'll ever be." Weslir said, once again leaning out over the edge to watch the rain splashing against the river far below.
Zaringard coughed in mock-impatience. Weslir shot him a dirty look. Zaringard smiled innocently at him.
With a growl, Weslir turned away from the edge. "I've changed my mind."
"No you haven't."
"I'm going in backwards instead."
Suddenly Weslir's arms were outstretched either side of him, his head tilted back towards the heavens as he leant back, collapsing into the air. Ring rushed to the edge in time to see him perform a near-perfect backward somersault, facing the cliffside, the right way up.
The Water was cold and sharp, and threatened to tear Weslir's limbs away from him, but he stayed strong, keeping himself tight together, his arms crossed across his chest as he plunged into the depths, feet first. He finally broke the surface, spluttering, his heart pumping faster than ever before, but unmistakably alive.
And a fully fledged member of the GreyWatch.
