Seralin
It was a calm afternoon, one which Gwynevere was quite enjoying. The motherly Quincy absolutely loved taking advantage of such lovely weather, and what better way to do that than to train? She has to keep herself in top shape if she is to keep the Primarch safe. Three arrows are fired, and embed themselves into the pinpoint center of the targets nearly two hundred feet away. Then again, they weren't moving targets. She would have pulled out a training partner, but was soon expecting a possible recruit. They wished to join their Paladin branch, and if they wanted to get in they needed to give a good impression. From what her reports stated, he was quite common in terms of power for his age, if not on the low side. So far he's only been shown to punch things, and has yet to manifest his bow. And yet, from what she read he seemed to have such a confident personality.
She would see today if this man would be Diocese material. If he shown any promise, she'd give her approval for joining through. He'd get proper training, she'd make a soldier of him yet. For now though she sighs and waits, dissipating her bow and taking a seat upon a bench on the outskirts of her training field. A guard would escort the man she was expecting when he arrived, after all.
She would see today if this man would be Diocese material. If he shown any promise, she'd give her approval for joining through. He'd get proper training, she'd make a soldier of him yet. For now though she sighs and waits, dissipating her bow and taking a seat upon a bench on the outskirts of her training field. A guard would escort the man she was expecting when he arrived, after all.