"Go on! Get!" the shrill voice yelled. Emanating from the kitchen at the end of the corridor, it was succeeded by the clatter of pots and pans being thrown across the room. Aribelle dodged a flying pan as she entered the doorway. She was forced to move aside once more as a small group of roughly four or five men barreled past her. The men she recognized as a mixture of mercenaries and guardsmen, they laughed as they fled from the pots and pans propelled in their direction.
Hardly a week after they had helped to clear the plot of land in the Castle garden, the City Guard trainees had miraculously achieved the approval of their instructor Sydric and Prince Drocoden. The men released from their probation now, some harmony had been attained between the two groups of men. A proper barracks still in the process of being constructed, most of the men who were not deployed or undertaking more training, had chosen to make themselves at home in the Castle.
