The sun streamed in through windows of the large open barracks that Nefre found himself sleeping in the glow, causing him to groan and open his eyes, looking around at the crowded room of men all resting on rows of bunks. Last night had been mostly a blur to him, they had made it into the Castle and went straight to the barracks. He hadn't even really got to say any of the city that surrounded the Castle, and sleep was creeping up quickly by that point, making it hard to concentrate on anything. He slowly rolled himself into a sitting position rubbing his eyes, casting away any remnants of dreams he might have had and get himself focused on the day to come.
As others stirred from the sun as well, slowly getting up, the fall of heavy footsteps was coming quickly to the door before being slung open. A typical soldier stood there wearing what looked like to Nefre with cobbled together armor of a chain mail vest, leather leggings, and a bascinet helmet on his though he did have a black leather jerkin with the Kings Emblem emblazoned on it. "Get up, you rabble! Take a piss and whatever else, then get to the hall for some food. After that, you'll head to the training grounds. Now move!" Everyone grumbled but quickly began to move out of the bunks and out of the barracks. They knew to argue wasn't going to get them everywhere, and Nefre agreed with that sentiment.
The hall they ate was just large tables that had rations set out along it for them to eat, dried bread, some cheese, and a little meat with some water to wash it all down. It was something, though, and Nefre scarfed it down immediately. Nobody was talking. He noted everyone was quiet. He couldn't blame them just yesterday; they had all been at home with family, maybe even a sweetheart or wife, and now they were here preparing themselves for what could eventually lead to most of their deaths. The thought made him feel nausea's and almost not want to eat anymore, fear gripped his heart, and he gripped the table before taking a long deep breath to steady himself and drink some water.
Time to eat wasn't long as quickly a group of soldiers walked in all with their cobbled-together armor, which offered some protection, but none like the knights Nefre had met and seen yesterday. "Everyone up and out to the yard!" One of the men barked, there was a pause as everyone looked between each other. "Now!" With that, whatever food left was finished quickly as the hall promptly became empty people flooding out of it. Nefre just beginning to realize there were many more that had been in the barracks he been in last night as well, which meant the king had practically drained all the towns of bodies for this Militia of his.
With no time for much more thinking, Nefre soon found himself in a large group of other commoners as all lined up in a wide-open training yard that had been cleared out for them. Around them were multiple soldiers, all with weapons, be it pikes, swords, or bows. The sun was intense beating squarely down upon everyone; the anticipation from everyone was palpable, almost like it was threatening to turn into panic. It never got to that point as what must have surely been a soldier or knight of high standing came out walking to stand in front of them all looking everyone over. With his plate mail leggings, gauntlets, and chest plate, he was at least a cut above the soldiers. He was also tall even taller than Nefre surely by a few inches, even though he was graying in his hair his brown eyes were sharp cutting across everyone and instantly calming the panic that might have set in with just a look.
"I am Guard Captain Lynell, and I am here today to oversee first your indoctrination into the Militia and to also tell you the rules you will all be following while you are here. Age may have taken me off the front lines, but I assure you it has not dulled my ability to lead in any capacity." He didn't have to yell to be heard his voice carried, and with everyone dead quiet, he was indeed able to be heard. "My job is not to make you soldiers but to make you effective enough at least to be a nuisance for the enemy long enough that the real soldiers can do the real work. My rules are simple; you will do whatever I or my subordinates will tell you to do. After training you will clean up, eat and then you will have free time, and you will be asleep after the sun goes down. Disobeying any of my orders will lead to a swift and harsh punishment. Now, as you are, you could never be effective an effective Militia will take the first step into changing that." As he finished speaking, a robed man came walking out his robes were a deep purple that fell to his feet brushing against the dirt his face mostly hidden. 'A priest of Thazun...God of Governance and one who helped lay the laws of the world."
As the priest came to a stop, he pulled out a dagger from under his robe. "Be thankful you men of the land, for you will become more if only a little bit." He held out a gnarled hand and drew the ritual blade across his palm, smoothly letting his blood splatter across the ground. Nefre watched with rapt attention close enough to the front to see the blood on the ground seem to become more than just a trickle and begin to move across the field in two directions he then realized it was forming a massive circle around everyone. As this was going on, the priest had begun to chant in a language he didn't understand. It made his head dizzy as he did. 'What is happening" he thought as he felt his head swim more like he was going to pass out.
Before such a thing could happen, what must have been the eyes of the priest underneath the robes flared a bright blue along with the blood on the ground that almost seemed to become a blue fire Nefre swore he could feel the heat of it. Though quickly the burning sensation in his right arm became intense and all he could hear was the blood beginning to thunder in his ears, it even became hard to see it was like the blue flame had enveloped his vision completely. In between all the sensations somewhere, he could feel his body becoming just a little lighter, and even a little stronger, he realized this is a real promotion in the world.
Soon the crescendo of the ritual came to an end, leaving everyone standing there looking around Nefre did too. It felt like just a bit of his vision was a little sharper, clearer, and even the colors seemed to stand out more. Quickly he reached down, grabbing his shirt sleeve and pulled it up to look having to see it. As soon as it was upright, there what had been a zero now stood the number One. It had been a promotion from a commoner to a Militiaman. It might not have been much, but it was something; for a moment, the fear of dying and having to fight in a war faded in his mind, he had ascended just a little higher. His eyes eventually looked up and around to everyone else who was mostly having the same reaction excited murmurings moved through the crowd.
Though the excitement couldn't last too long as the clap of gauntlet hands of the Guard Captain brought everyone out of their celebration and looking to the stern man, the priest no longer there. "Now the first phase is done, we will begin your training with some weapons so that you don't stab yourself while on the battlefield. Just because you got your promotion doesn't mean you suddenly know how actually to fight that requires true practice. We will break you up into smaller groups. Some of you will train here, and others of you will head out of the Castle to the fields. My subordinates will be in charge of your training pay attention as we have little time to make you useful." Nefre caught on quickly to what that meant, the war was coming quickly, and odds are everyone there was going to be fodder.
Soldiers quickly began to shout through carving up the group of men into smaller groups and heading out from the training grounds to the fields outside while Nefre found himself with a group of twenty left in the training yard for their training. The solider in charge looked them over a forgettable man in his cobbled-together armor, but he did seem at least competent. "Alright, grab some practice swords we have here and get back over here." Nefre, along with everyone, to grab one of the practice swords wooden though they were. Grasping one by the handle, he plucked it up, feeling a surge of excitement from it.
Quickly they all ran back lining up looking at the Soldier there who seemed pleased at least by the speed they were all moving. "Now, first, I will show you how to hold the sword, then how to swing the sword and stab with the sword. Once I think you all can do that, you'll practice with each other. This training isn't to make you experts. It is to make you useful. Are you all ready?" "Yes, Sir!" Nefre felt excited about learning how actually to fight and even more to test out his body after the promotion. Gripping the training sword, Nefre was calm. All the fear and anxiety he had felt earlier washed away.