I am abruptly shaken awake and am thrown into deep regret that I fell asleep at all. A deep fog occupies my mind, the fog of tiredness that had just been cruelly teased by a few minutes of the blessed sleep that it so desires.
The old man that I met yesterday stands over me and says "Come on. Get up. You have ten minutes to get to the central hall." He then moves on to wake up the other newcomers, leaving the few veteran soldiers to their blissful rest. [That's quite courteous of him, I suppose. He could have simply slept in and left us to wake up on our own.]
There is very little to do, considering that I lack even a change of clothes. Instead, I stand at the door and watch the old man wake up the others, all the while struggling to force my eyes to remain open. My eyelids seem to try to glue themselves together every time that I close them, so after a while I simply try to forcibly hold them open. Of course, that just makes them feel heavier and heavier. [This is going to be a long day,] I sigh to myself.
Once all the slaves have been cruelly and abruptly torn from the warm embrace of rest, we head outside. The brisk, early morning air provides a partial cure to my sleep-deprived fuzzy headedness. The cloud in my mind slightly lifts, though with a clear mind comes the seemingly never-ending worrying about my future that has been preoccupying my consciousness of late.
No one is outside our barracks, and for a moment I feel an urge to try to escape. I quickly crush this foolish desire, however; after all, I am in a heavily fortified compound at the center of a heavily militaristic city wherein everyone would immediately become my enemy. Furthermore, my death could come at the press of a button on Commander Torrin's part.
Instead, I stand awkwardly and in silence, listening to the muted discussions surrounding me, waiting for Commander Torin to arrive and lead us to where we need to be. Eventually, when I am starting to think that I may need to head there on my own, Commander Torin finally shows up.
"Sorry for making you wait so long. Come with me. Everything you need to know about today will be explained in the central hall." With that very short greeting, we again follow him to the central hall, which is apparently just another name for the dining hall. [You know, it seems like my entire time at the place has consisted of walking back and forth between the barracks and this place.]
We arrive just as a large clock chimes four in the hall. Several hundred new recruits stand in silence, scattered haphazardly about the hall, which has had the tables pushed up against the walls. Our group stands in a corner of the room, and this time Torin does not immediately abandon us.
Three individuals stand on the elevated platform at the far end of the hall. As soon as the clock chimes, a man with various weapons hanging from his body steps forward and begins to speak. "Welcome, new recruits. I am the weapons master for this training camp, and it is my job to make sure that everyone is matched with the weaponry that best suits them."
Another man, this one looking to be much more adept at management than fighting, steps forward. "I am the scheduling coordinator. I make sure that every soldier's personal strength increases to the greatest possible degree during each and every day in training."
A third person, this one a woman, and the first woman that I have seen in this training facility for that matter, steps forward. "And I am here to make sure that every soldier is provided with adequate clothing, bedding, and other necessities. Once you are done with your time here, grab one of those bundles" she says, motioning towards a veritable mountain of them in the corner of the room.
She steps back and the first man continues. "The choice that you make here today regarding your weaponry will have great impact on your career and on your life. For that reason, the choice will not be entirely up to you. If you have pre-existing skills in a certain weapon, you will be expected to make use of that weapon. If you have any proficiency for certain weapons, of course we would highly recommend making use of such weapons. As for mages, of course we require those who can manipulate elements of cast spells to do so. For spellcasters, we highly recommend a position on the back line. For elemental manipulators, we recommend an augmented melee approach, using elemental mana and weaponry simultaneously on the battlefield. As for the majority of you, those with no experience or proficiency in any weapon, what I am about to say applies to you."
I know that I, as someone with experience, proficiencies, and elemental manipulation skills, am certainly not in that group. [Huh. It looks like I'm going to be a magic swordsman after all, whether I want to be or not. I really am lucky to have been reborn with magical abilities. Perhaps my luck is not as bad as I had feared.]
Though I know that I do not need to listen to the weapon descriptions, I decide to do so anyway. After all, It will surely be useful to know if this world has any unique weapons that are fully absent on Earth.
The weapons master begins with the most basic of instruments: the spear. "The spear is the most common weapon used by our soldiers, and for good reason. It is relatively easy to learn how to use compared to other weapons, and, when working with other spearmen, it provides considerable safety on the battlefield. While not as flashy as a sword, this weapon truly is the backbone of our armed forces. For those with no pre-existing combat experience, this weapon is highly recommended.
"The next weapon is the sword. The chosen weapon of heroes for millenia, this instrument allows the user almost limitless potential. While incredibly difficult to master, once a wielder does so, they are destined to be a true elite on the battlefield. I would warn you, however, to not be lured in by the glory associated with this weapon. The fatality rate is quite high among foolish men who take up this weapon only for its reputation. I would strongly advise against this choice unless you are ready to put in the countless hours of effort required to master it.
"The next weapon is the bow. This is another excellent choice for newcomers. While we already have many archers, there is always room for more. This is also a great choice for mages of both varieties, as arrows imbued with magic are a magnificent asset on the battlefield. Except for the cases of greatest incompetence, it is difficult for a archer to provide anything but benefit on the battlefield. I would recommend this to those who do not feel that they are physically fit enough to stand on the front lines. While it still takes quite a bit of arm strength to pull the strings on our bows, this can certainly be achieved in the time that you have to train."
The weapons master goes on and on, detailing various weapons of many varieties. While I pay close attention, I do not hear of any type of weapon that did not exist on Earth.
Once he finishes talking about weaponry, he briefly mentions cavalry opportunities, explaining that due to limited horses and time only those with notable riding experience would be eligible for the cavalry. With that, he steps back and the other man steps forward. The rough voice of the weapons master is replaced by the smooth voice of the schedule coordinator. "Once you select your weapon, you will be given a schedule. This schedule will stretch from 6:00 AM to 12:00 AM each day, with plentiful time for strength, endurance, magic, and weapons training. There will also be group combat training, where you will practice working together with a team in combat scenarios. Once a week, we will exit the city to quickly increase skill levels in fights against monsters. Once a month there will be a large scale mock battle in which you will get a feel for real combat. These schedules are designed to be difficult to the maximum degree that the soldier can bear, to build strength as much as possible in our limited time. You will struggle, and you [will] want to quit. However, if you bear with it and work to the best of your ability, you will surely become more powerful than you thought was possible. Now, it is almost 5:00. In a few minutes weapons will be brought in. Your skills and proficiencies will be checked, so don't try to be sneaky. You have a few minutes to decide the weapon that you will use, so decide quickly. For those with magic proficiencies, declare them to the mage master after selecting your weapon."
I already know what weapon I will go for, so I stand silently. My bunkmates speak in serious tones to one another, trying to decide which weapon is right for them. Commander Torrin even gets involved, making recommendations based on body type to those who are uncertain about which weapon to choose.
While I wait for the weapons to be brought in, I think over the information that I have just received. One thing catches my interest: the mentioning of different types of magic, 'elemental manipulation,' and 'spells.' I assume that the type that I have done is elemental in nature, considering that the elemental manipulation skill leveled up, which makes me wonder what these 'spells' are. [Well, I'm sure that it will be explained at some point.]
The side door opens and a number of uniformed men pull in large racks of weapons. There are three racks for spears, one for swords, one for bows, and some partially filled racks with maces, axes, flails, and other implements of war. After all of the weapon racks are wheeled out, and after they are through the door, a man who screams 'wizard' enters. [Seriously, what the heck? The dude has a dark blue pointed hat with yellow stars on it, for goodness sakes. Long gray hair, a long beard of the same color, billowing robes matching the color of his hat, wrinkles adorning the visible parts of his face… he even has a scepter with a yellow ball on the end! I swear, if someone were to tell me that this man traveled to Earth to give us our wizard stereotypes, why, I'd have to believe them! This is ridiculous!]
Though I try quite hard not to, I cannot resist the small chuckle of incredulity that escapes my mouth. Thankfully, nobody notices.
Once all of the weaponry has entered the room, everyone immediately surges towards their weapon of choice. Not wanting to be crushed in the mad scramble for a weapon, and figuring that my skill level and proficiency for swordsmanship will guarantee that I get a sword even if every sword is removed from the rack before I get there, I hold back and observe.
Many young men swarm to the swords, apparently not dissuaded from their dreams of becoming heroes by the warning of the weapons master. The slightly older men, alongside the more cautious, go to the spears. The oldest and the weakest trudge over to the bows. A handful of overly-muscled men go to the maces and axes, and a few lunatics go to the flails.
Once the sword rack has been stripped bare of all arms, I walk over. "I'm here for a sword!" I say with as much arrogance that I can muster.
Apparently not taking kindly to my tardiness, the arms distributor scoffs. "You should have been here fifteen minutes ago. All the swords are gone. Go get a spear; there are still plenty of those left."
I let a mocking grin stretch across my face. "Oh? But I thought that we had to get weapons that we were best trained in?"
"Your Lesser Swordsmanship Lvl. 1 does not warrant me fetching a sword for you. Go get a spear."
Putting my hand against my chest with my mouth agape, I respond "I am deeply offended! To assume that I am a worthless lesser swordsman! I'll have you know, [sir], that I am a moderate swordsman of level nine, thank you very much! Furthermore, I have a moderate swordsmanship proficiency bonus! It would be a travesty to keep me from a sword, an individual of such talent!"
I'm hoping for a strong reaction from him, but instead he just sighs. He turns to his assistant, who's been beside him the entire time, and orders that he fetch another sword. I stand in silence, my foolishly belligerent attitude having fully evaporated away. I silently take the sword when the assistant returns, and, after a mumbled apology, sulk off.
[Gah! Screw this madness! First it messes with my emotions; now it prompts me towards self-destructive actions?! I should be keeping a low profile; instead, I just made the weapon master most specific to swords irritated with me. I need to keep a tighter hold over my words and actions, apparently.]
I walk over to the mage. After waiting through a short line, it is my turn. First, he briefly checks my skills. "An elementalist… Why must they always be elementalists? Why are there so few true mages of the spellcasting school?" he mutters to himself. "Ah! My apologies! I see that you also have notable skill in the blade; perhaps a magic swordsman route would fit you? Yes, that would fit quite nicely. Here you are. Now be gone."
He then shews me away after handing me a slip of paper with the words 'magic swordsman' written upon it. I hurry over to the scheduler, who only says to drop the slip into a little machine that sits next to him. I do so, and, after a moment of whirring, a sheet of paper with a detailed schedule pops out. "Mages really are so much easier. As simple as a slip of paper supplied by our resident mage. Now away. Next!"
I closely examine the schedule, which calls for showing up in this hall at six, which, according to the clock, is still about twenty minutes away. After the roll call is breakfast, and then physical training for a few hours. Following that is sword training, alone and as a group, and then mage training. Then dinner and bed. [My great training arc has begun!] I think sarcastically to myself. Really, though, things could be alot worse right now. I am receiving free training in my favored weapon, while all of my needs are being taken care of. If only this training wasn't for the purpose of dying on a battlefield for a country that I care nothing about…