Hellrien almost fell off her rented horse and winced in agony. Her body was aching like a sore tooth. That cursed Ranesora had almost killed her in their last training session. Even if Hellrien was in good shape, four hours of combat training with Ranesora every second day took it's toll, her whole body was protesting. She handed the horse over to the stable-master and started limping towards the Prancing Pony, thinking about the four weeks she had spent in the Sworn Brotherhood Stronghold.
Hellrien had - trying hard not to show it - been very nervous about how the others in the Brotherhood would relate to her. She was very surpised, because when her closest superior - Jorgon Erefen, son of Ranesora - introduced her in the first morning at the training yard, everyone welcomed her elatedly. They seemed sincerely and honestly proud of getting a new recruit among their ranks. Hellrien wasn't too proud, even if she had to admit the welcome was warm, for she remarked that some of the veterans regarded her with suspicion.
Hellrien climbed the stairs, opened the door and stepped inside the Prancing Pony. She stood on the doorway for a moment, allowing her eyes to get adjusted to the dim lighting of the tavern. It took her a moment before she spotted the people she was looking for - Burwod and Alecost, standing by the hearth on the other side of the huge room. She went straight to them.
”Hello, you two! I have arrived.”
Burwod and Alecost turned, almost surprised to hear a familiar voice distract their conversation.
”So you have! Welcome, Hellrien”, said Burwod.
”So nice to have you here”, added Alecost.
”Very nice to be here”, said Hellrien. ”You don't mind if I go grab something to drink, do you?”
”No, go right ahead”, Burwod answered. ”I'll go find us an empty table.”
Soon enough Hellrien and Burwod were sitting at a table. Alecost was playing her lute by the fire nearby and Hellrien sipped her ale greedily. Pipe-weed smoke floated thick and heavy upon the timber roof, and sounds of curses, slams of mugs and tankards and peals of laughter penetrated softly through the smoky air.
”What's this about?” Hellrien asked all of a sudden.
”What is?”
”Why have I been summoned here now?” Hellrien fixed her gaze on a wreath of smoke, daintily circulating upwards from a pipe. ”Not that I'm complaining. I've been in the training for a month now”, she said in a deep voice, ”and I think I've been doing well. I just wish it was over soon. Ranesora is starting to get on my nerves.”
Burwod barked a laugh. ”How far are you?”
”The greatsword.”
Burwod nodded. ”I have heard you have done remarkably well. Your basic training is almost done. That's why we are here. Time for the final phase of your training. Field training, under me. It shouldn't take more than a week in all, maybe less.”
”Field training?” Hellrien was all ears.
”Yes”, said Burwod. ”We will start tomorrow, at foredawn.”
”That early?” Hellrien pouted. ”Then I best not drink too much tonight. It's pretty strong stuff Barliman sells in this place.”
”Strong?” Burwod laughed. ”It's water!”
”Water?” Hellrien grinned. ”Compared to what - triple-strenght brandy? Trust me, you can get a hangover from Barliman's stuff too.”
