ch 5: take up arms

. . .

. . .

"Are those two at it again?"

It was excitement all around her as she slipped quietly through the broad wooden doors of Jorrvaskr. The room was dim, and a light misting of smoke filled the atmosphere, resulting in a pleasant glow coming from the light of several wall mounted torches as she moved to the bannister to watch the spectacle unfolding at the other end of the pit near the center of the mead hall, as the collective rabble cheered from the outskirts of the room.

"Come on now, watch the footwork! Strike when his shoulder turns- hes giving you an opening!" A big, balded man shouted fervently from his place behind the banister, not far from where she stood, watching intently as a slight Bosmer man and a fierce looking nordic woman faced each other down a few paces to the side of the grand wooden longtable wrapped around the large hearth decorating the halls center. His hands gripped the polished rail tightly as he watched.

"Hey- look who made it!"

Hearing the surprised exclamation somewhere toward her left, Idrissa turned her head quickly toward the voice, finding herself starring up at the tall, handsome man she had encountered upon her arrival outside of whiterun as he approached, grinning down at her in a way that make his cheeks dimple pleasantly, and affectively turned the contents of her brain to mush- He came to stand next to the broad man with the shaved head and smooth face, who was shouting instructions at the younger warriors intently as they continued to brawl.

"Oh, hey..." She mumbled, swallowing hard as his grin broadened over perfect, pearly white teeth- Thankfully, his friend was too enraptured in the fight to turn away and see her cheeks heat up in response.

"Names Farkas- enjoying the fight?" He asked pleasantly, obviously pleased by the light blush that tinged her delicate, even features- vanity may have been a sin, but for Farkas, it was the feeling of pride that washed over him every time he felt the eyes of a lovely young lady admiring the results of his years of training and battle experience that made his efforts feel worth while- and to his eyes, Idrissa was one of the loveliest. She inhaled shakily as butterflies erupted in her belly, scrambling her thoughts.

"Watch the eyes!" The man called out again beside him, giving her a start.

"Aye, thank you for inquiring- erm, Farkas..." She replied timidly, looking away as she tasted his name on her tongue. "Im Idrissa- is it always so lively here?" She asked, looking back at the match in question so that she could recompose herself- The two warriors were still exchanging blows, both looking equally determined to prevail against the other as their peers continued to cheer, jeer, and bark instructions around them in the hopes of turning the tables in their favor.

"Aye, my brother Vilkas and I have been here since we were whelps- Our father Jergen raised us here. Even Vignar couldnt remember companions younger than us." He explained. " and in all that time, theres never been a dull moment that i can recall." Idrissa nodded, flinching as she watched the Bosmer take a hard punch to the cheek bone, which sent him staggering back into a small table with an audible crunch, nearly falling over as he lost his footing.

"Try not to mind them- their just working out some issues in the old way." The older warrior chimed in unexpectedly, catching her wide eyed expression as he glanced down at her discreetly from Farkas's left. "Little blood to clear the air- hope you have the stomach for it, outsider." Idrissa could see then that he was much older than the rest of the small rabble in the room- His hard face was drawn and serious, small lines beginning to form in the creases of his eyes, accentuating the deep shadows beneath them. Before he could turn away again, she was startled to see that he was blind in one.

A million questions began forming in her mind then, but she forced herself to look away politely, not wanting to make him uncomfortable by starring, or asking questions that might seem overly forward- they had barely just met, after all...instead, she considered his words, thinking back to all the drunken tavern brawls she had witnessed in her days growing up at the Ragged Flagon- this fight didnt even compare to those she had witnessed amongst the thieves; She had once watched Delvin Mallory drown a man, after a disagreement on the price of a particular stolen piece of jewelry he had procured from the blue palaces closed wing in haalfingar. This was a mild dispute by comparison.

"Is that why you became a Companion, then?" Idrissa wondered, ignoring the interruption and thinking about how she herself had joined the thieves guild at a young age, because it had been expected of her as Brinjolf's ward.

"Aye- they are my family." He affirmed easily. " Ive never been the smart one, but the Companions welcome anyone with the heart of a warrior- When we step into battle, we fight for our own name, and the name of brotherhood- Ive always respected that, and am proud to be part of it..." He explained with conviction. Whimsically, Idrissa wondered what it might feel like to take part in such a positive family dynamic, looking away from him thoughtfully in a way that both beguiled him, and piqued his interest.

"Bah- ask any fool around here about the Companions and they will all have a different answer," The bald man reflected bitterly, interrupting them once more as he fixed his good eye on her again- Farkas had a way of romanticizing the guild that annoyed him, and he would have none of it in his ear shot. " Some say we're mercenaries- He says warriors of honor. brothers and sisters of the blade... Vilkas see's a drunken rabble- You take your pick... ive been here longer than most of them, and even i dont know sometimes- I just hope they dont kill each other." He explained, nodding toward the match progressing in the pit with a lopsided, wolfish grin that transformed his unsettling features horrifically.

"Dont mind Skjor here," Farkas warned her as he gave his ally a sour look, seeing her posture stiffen. "He's not an optimist."

"Why did you join the companions then, Skjor?" She asked curiously, ignoring Farkas and her own feeling of discomfort as she wondered why a man would put so much of himself into something he wasnt confident in. For a moment Skjor looked surprised that she would even ask, but, like any seasoned warrior, he couldn't resist the chance to wax nostalgic- and that was good. Idrissa loved those stories...

"I learned the ways of the blade in the great war- nearly lost my life outside of the Imperial city, even. I came home to Skyrim when it was all over, but i wasnt much good at anything but violence." He explained wistfully, eyes seeming to grow far away as he recalled a time long ago. " I wandered around as a sellsword for a while- was damned good at it too. The money was good, the drinks were good- and the women were better!" he boasted, giving Farkas a hearty clap on the shoulder as they shared a manly chuckle before he sobered up to continue.

"I was losing myself though- my heart. If im being honest, I was lucky the Companions found me... Now, there is a reason to be fighting. The honor of my brothers and sisters is worth more than coin- ofcourse, the money is still good, dont get me wrong. And the drinks!" He raised the flagon of ale he had been nursing as they stood against the bannister before taking a deep draught of the strong, amber liquid, saluting the past and events which inevitably brought him there.

"Not the women, though?" She asked him curiously, quirking a brow- Farkas's expression twitched in amusement as he looked back at Skjor, flashing his pearly whites again.

"Yeah Skjor? What about the women?" He teased- and Idrissa could tell she was witnessing some inside joke that she was not privy to by the look the other man gave him in response. Glowering sourly, Skjor rolled his eyes, shaking his head before pushing away from the banister to make his exit, leaving the younger man without an answer as he watched him go, chuckling under his breath.

"You'll have to excuse him, he's a bit touchy on that subject- but you probably didnt come here to hear about our boring life stories, though- You'll want to be talking to Kodlak Whitemane about getting yourself settled." Farkas put a gentle hand on her waist and pulled her away from their spot by the bannister, leading her toward a stairwell at the far side of the room before she could come up with a reasonable way to decline.

"But..." She began to protest, words catching in her throat as he continued to whisk her away... Did she want to join the Companions? True enough she was enamored thus far with Jorrvaskr and its history, but she did not want to swear herself to another faction frivolously- what about Ralof and the war? What about Faringar secret fire, and his Dragon stone? What about her dreams of the never ending horizon, and how it called to her day and night?

"-If you thought Skjor was a hardass, just wait till you meet my brother- they say Ysgramor was named Stormcrown, because wherever he went, storm clouds would gather over his head. Well- Vilkas resides under his own permanent little rain cloud- watch your head, the ceiling is lower down here."

The ceiling was shallow within the lower hall- but only someone as tall as Farkas would have to worry about hitting his head on the way in. Idrissa was short for a nord, and had a knack for fitting in and through narrow and short places- even if she jumped she could not have hit her head. Swallowing hard, she

The hall was long, built from large, dark stones supported by thick, polished wooden beams. to the left side, several narrow, empty archways revealed a room lined with beds. It was all lavishly decorated, with red and gold rugs lining the center of the walk way, with rich red banners hanging proudly on the wall, along with several polished shields of remarkable craftsmanship, and several hanging torches that were hung along either side of the walls to illuminate the shadowy corridors beyond- those shadows seemed to call to her, just begging to be explored...

"But i still hear the call of the blood..." Idrissa's ears twitched- someone really was speaking up ahead, and as Farkas prodded her onward, the muffled vibrations became clearer and clearer, until she could understand each word almost perfectly.

"We all do- it is our burden to bare, but we can overcome." Another voice encouraged- this one sounded much older to her ears.

"You have my brother and I, obviously, but i don't know if the others will go along so easily..." Idrissa wondered what they could be talking about, almost forgetting Farkas entirely as she picked up the pace, following the sound of muted conversation from somewhere up ahead. Amused, Farkas allowed her to take the lead, keeping close as she continued toward Kodlak's study.

"Leave them to me." They were close now- she could hear them just up ahead... Idrissa slowed, hesitating- but before she could turn back and change her mind, Farkas prodded her onward from behind. Her chest roiled uneasily as he grinned down at her, herding her through the threshold with long, strong arms...

. . .

. . .

Vilkas's trained ears recognized the sound of his brothers approach long before he appeared within the thresh hold of Kodlak's study, but to his surprise, he had not heard the soft leather muffled footsteps of the young silver haired girl who entered with him at all, until the study was filled with the unfamiliar, earthy scent that clung to her scuffed, dirty black armor. Farkas stood directly behind her, his tall, muscular body dwarfing hers and making her appear almost childlike by comparison.

"A stranger in our midst?" Kodlak asked Farkas pleasantly as Vilkas's unsettlingly bright, intelligent eyes raked her over from head to toe- she appeared nervous, body tense as she studied her surroundings quickly, and he was sure he had never seen a more beautiful pair of eyes in his life- they were a strange blue green color, shot through with fleks of gold around the irises, surrounded by thick, dark lashes long enough to cast feint shadows over her soft, even cheekbones. "Does she wish to present the companions with a contract?"

Naturally, Vilkas had assumed the same- it wasnt uncommon for citizens seeking out their help to wander into the meadhall on various occasions; Just the other day, a scholar had even come to visit them to talk about the history of Jorrvaskr...

"Not quite- This is the spitfire that Aela was talking about yesterday after we killed the giant." Farkas introduced, giving her a hardy pat on the back that nearly winded her. Vilkas shot his brother an incredulous look, remembering how he had told them about the girl from the day before, who had stood by while his sheild siblings faced the Giant- and now here she was, a coward in their midst.

"Ah!" Kodlak exclaimed, remembering for himself. "The wise warrior, who knows how to pick her battles." His eyes sparkled as he grinned at her, and she flushed with pride as she averted her gaze almost shyly from the harbinger like a blushing maiden. Vilkas rolled his eyes, taking a deep drink from his flagon of ale.

"Idrissa will do." She declared, returning his smile with equal warmth- and her smile was so beautiful that Vilkas's mind went blank momentarily, dazzled by the light behind her eyes and the way her soft, pale pink lips transformed her features as they pulled up at the edges. Kodlak didnt seem to notice his protégé's discomfort as he nodded to the newcomer in acknowledgment.

" I am Kodlak Whitemane, the Harbinger here- to what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?" He asked graciously, taking a conservative drink from the bottle of mead in his hand. She opened her mouth to speak, but Farkas beat her to it.

"She wants to see if she has what it takes to be one of us." He told them matter of factly, before looking down at her with that mischeivious grin, and playful eyes. Vilkas nearly choked on the drink he had been taking as his brother spoke, unable to believe what he had just heard.

"Oh really?" Kodlak gave Farkas a pointed look, ignoring his brothers choking fit before turning his focus back to her. "Is that so?" The girl- Idrissa- looked unsure, but it only took her a moment of quick deliberation to make up her mind.

"Aye." She told him firmly, resolved. "I would be honored for the opportunity to prove myself worthy." Kodlak turned his head to the side slightly as he regarded her, eyes becoming thoughtful as his hand reached up to pull and tug at his full, soft white beard. Beside him, Vilkas shifted uncomfortably as he watched his Harbinger deliberate, fixing him with an accusing stare- Vilkas knew his mentor better than anyone else in the world, and he could feel it in his bones what the old man would say before he could even begin to speak it.

"Hm. Yes, perhapse...A certain strength of spirit..." He mumbled penceively as he deliberated- and Vilkas suddenly felt near to panic.

"Master, you are not truly considering accepting her?" Vilkas interrupted the older mans assessment incredulously, not hiding his disapproval. Farkas shot his brother an indignant look, annoyed by his opposition- he had not denied their last recruit, Ria, so openly.

"I am no ones master, Vilkas." Kodlak snapped back at his protégé quickly, eyes turning hard as he fixed him with a stirn look. " and last i checked, we had more than a few empty beds in Jorrvaskr for those with a fire burning in their hearts."

"My apologies-" Vilkas recovered quickly, unashamed. " but perhaps this isnt the time? Ive never even heard of this outsider." He refused to look at her as he spoke, unwilling to acknowledge her. Idrissa tensed at the hostility he directed toward her, but otherwise refused to respond to his words.

"Sometimes the famous come to us, and Sometimes men and women come to us seeking their fame. It makes no difference- what matters is in their heart." Kodlak reminded Vilkas sagely.

"And their arm." He reminded his master pointedly. "Look at her- she is a child- she probably hasnt even experienced a man in her bed, let alone real battle. She will die, and she will die quickly- and maybe someone else will die trying to save her." Vilkas gave his brother a sharp look as he spoke the last part, making it obvious what he meant, and the two exchanged heated glares- Farkas had a habit of trying hard to always be the hero, and Vilkas was certain she would be no more than a liability to him and anyone else she was partnered with.

Kodlak deliberated, admitting to himself that his pupil had a point- to join, one had to show some degree of skill in battle. He turned his focus back to Idrissa, ignoring the rude gesture Farkas was making toward his twin from behind her.

"Well, he is right ofcourse," Kodlak amended apologetically. " How is your arm, lass?"

The girl seemed to think carefully about her response before she gave it, demonstrating more maturity than Vilkas was giving her credit for. "I can handle myself, but i still have much to learn." She admitted eloquently- and Vilkas knew he had lost the argument then.

"Thats the spirit!" The old man enthused. "Vilkas here, will get started on that- Take her out to the yard and see what she can do." He ordered his pupil firmly.

"Aye..." Vilkas acquiesced reluctantly, defeated. He stood then, finally meeting her gaze for two heartbeats, fixing her with a scathing stare- he had expected her to avert her gaze, but instead she met it head on and held it defiantly until he had shouldered passed her, to where Farkas stood blocking the exit with an expression of triumph.

"Move, icebrain." He growled, shoving his brother out of the way roughly to enter the hall. Farkas chuckled as he watched him leave, seemingly amused by the whole situation.

"See?" Vilkas could hear his brother asking her as he departed. "Never a dull moment here."

. . .

Vilkas's ornate skyforge steel armor was polished to shining, and as he swung his one handed steel sword in an upward arc, it glinted threateningly in the sunlight as he brought it down on an innocent practice dummy, demonstrating the sheer force of his swing as the wood splintered and rendered the contraption useless. Idrissa entered the yard to join him, with his brother trailing close behind, and as he turned to face them, he gave the sword a flourish before moving to pick up a studded shield that had been leaning against the wooden post supporting the thatched shelter over the stone patio- her eyes lingered on his every move as he took his place in front of her on the yard, a strange feeling blooming in the pit of her stomach that she could not name as he demonstrated his skill, and the grace with which he moved.

"Well, the old man said to have a look at you." He told her reluctantly as he came to stand across from her. "So, lets do this- just take a few swings at me so I can see your form. dont worry- i can take it."

Vilkas was every inch as tall as his brother, but not nearly as thick- his muscles were long and lean, rather than bulky, and there was something about his eyes and the sharpness behind them that set his face apart from his twin, making him appear both beautiful and deadly as he melted into his defenders stance.

Her black armor didnt gleam as his did, as scuffed and dirty as it was, but as she stood side face and spread her feet apart, she liked to believe she presented herself as a formidable opponent as he held his shield at the ready and she lifted her sword to strike.

Farkas watched closely from the sidelines with the few others who had gathered to watch, leaning against the wooden support that held the thatched canopy above the patio where his brothers shield had been- completely at ease. He wasnt sure exactly what the girl he had so recently met was capable of, but he liked her spirit and had a feeling she would prove equal to the task at hand.

Vilkas closed the distance between them quickly, impatient to be done with her, but she was not about to make it easy for him- Twice he swung his sword at her, forcing her to step side to side to avoid each swipe and lunge swiftly- He was quick and precise, but she was smaller and skinnier- and a smaller target was harder to hit. She parried and dodged carefully around his strikes, hearing Brinjolf's voice instructing her in her mind- until at last he hesitated in his footwork, giving her an opening that allowed her to duck under his attack to land a swiftly struck uppercut under his jaw with her free hand- Skjor clapped loudly from his own place on the sidelines, encouraging her further.

Vilkas stumbled backward and shook his head quickly, before looking at her with bright eyes full of shock and- amusement? to her disappointment, he chuckled then, as he had truly not expected her to pack such force behind her punch- strangely, it excited him, and he reflected on the perverse sense of satisfaction vaguely as he resumed his attempts at striking her with renewed vigor- and yet like before, she danced around his swipes, lunges, and slashes easily, her green grey eyes reading his every move, predicting his attacks, and evading expertly until she found an opening in his stance that allowed her to land a singular- but hard- shoulder to his shield that sent him stumbling back yet again. Idrissa took advantage of his stagger to swing her own unimpressive blade, but he brought his shield up just in time to block the clunky piece of metal.

"Enough! ive seen all i need to see." He called out before she could advance on him again. Idrissa straightened and relaxed, relieved that he put an end to the match before her inexperience with a blade could become overly clear.

" You might just make it- but for now, your still just a whelp to us, new blood- so, as a new member, you will do what we tell you." He told her strictly, re asserting his dominance over her as a superior. Idrissa couldnt help but to smirk as she re sheathed her sword, which only served to further scrape against his nerves...

"Here- make yourself useful, and take my sword up to Eorlund to have it sharpened." He told her, shoving his gleaming sword into her hands- and she was surprised by the weight it possessed. " Be careful- its probably worth more than you are." He growled down at her condescendingly, before giving his brother a pointed look and retreating back to the bowels of Jorrvaskr. Farkas moved quickly to follow after his sibling, looking back at her with his familiar grin and giving her a playful wink as he abandoned her there in the yard to poke fun at his brother, before they would inevitably make amends.

Idrissa held the heavy sword awkwardly and watched them go, an altogether new feeling of unrest and dissatisfaction blooming within her chest as she struggled to comprehend the events of the last short hour that had lead to her playing the part of Vilkas's glorified steward.

"Sithis and damnation!" She swore under her breath, looking around her as the small gathering melted back into the meadhall, leaving her alone once more.

. . .

Eorlund Greymane's muscles bulged, and his tendons strained as he pumped the bellows that fanned the embers of the glowing Skyforge. sweat dripped down his forehead and shoulders, and poured down his wide, uncovered muscular chest, and Idrissa found herself watching him do his job with a sense of awe and appreciation for the strength needed to be able to work a forge of that size- as it was easily three times the size of any forge she had ever seen, and she doubted another of its size existed throughout the whole of Skyrim.

He was a man well passed his prime, with thinning, long silver hair, whose sons were probably well into adulthood- and yet his body was hard and chiseled, all traces of imperfection being melted away by the heat of the forge and the weight of his hammer- As she regarded him, she found that she had forgiven Vilkas for giving her the opportunity to meet the most prestigious blacksmith in Skyrim- in fact, she may just have to thank him later.

"What brings you here?" Eorlund asked her when he got to a point where he could rest. She had been watching him for several minutes by that point, unable to bring herself to disturb his work.

"I ah- Vilkas that is, sent me here to ask you to sharpen his sword..." She told him, feeling her cheeks heat up as she presented him with the heavy sword, averting her gaze shyly. He chuckled as he took it from her.

"You must be a new recruit then?"

"Aye- thats me," She admitted with sarcastic glee, sighing. "Does Vilkas always send new recruits on errands like this?"

"I wouldnt worry about it too much," He told her kindly, smiling as his eyes grew far away, remembering all the members he had known in his years. "They were all whelps once- they just might not like to talk about it. And dont always do what your told- nobody rules anyone in the Companions." He advised, turning around to take Vilkas's dull and battered sword to the grindstone at the far end of the forge.

"What do you mean?" She asked as she followed behind, thinking about Kodlak Whitemane and how Vilkas had referred to him as his master- the old man had been quick to admonish him for it. "Surely someone has to be in charge of an organization as great as this?"

"Well, im not sure how theyve managed it- but they have." He retorted matter of factly, sounding impressed with the feat himself. "No leaders since Ysgramor. Kodlak is the harbinger, which is a sort of advisor for them, but each man is his own-each woman, her own."

"What about you? Are you a Companion?" Idrissa asked curiously, unable to help herself- it could be assumed, since his forge was inside the walls of Jorrvaskr.

"No, im not actually a companion myself- but none of them know how to properly work a forge- save for Farkas, who would rather swing a sword than forge one- but i am honored to serve them."

"Im sure the honor should be theirs- thank you for taking the sword for me." Idrissa bowed her head politely to him as she began to make a retreat, not wanting to further disturb his work. "Ill be back to retreive it shortly."

"Wait- could i ask a favor of you?" He called after her quickly, before she could leave. " My wife is in mourning, and i would like to get back to ger as soon as possible- ive made a sheild for Aela, but i dont really have the time to give it to her..." His voice trailed off suggestively as he fixed her with a hopeful look.

Idrissa paused, wondering if he was testing her- he had just told her not to let anyone treat her like a servant...and yet- he was Eorlund Greymane. She couldnt very well refuse him, could she?

"It would be an honor to lend a hand." she found herself saying, erring on the side of compassion- there may be a time when she needed him on her side, and perhaps if she did him this kindness, he would remember it someday.

. . .

Idrissa found Aela in her personal courters with Skjor, after asking several haughty, stuck up apprentices about her whereabouts- and just like the first time she had seen her, she was struck by her fierce, wild beauty. The huntress's face lit up with recognition as she saw her face, and to Idrissa's surprise, she offered her a welcoming smile.

"Ah- The wise warrior." She recalled humorously. "So, you made it here after all." Skjor seemed taken aback by their acquaintance.

"You know this one?" He asked her, fixing her with his good eye. " This is the whelp that Vilkas mentioned." Aela's smile broadened as he spoke, eyes lighting with amusement.

"Ah, yes- I heard you gave him quite the thrashing."

"Dont let Vilkas catch you saying that." Skjor warned seriously, a tinge of his own humor coloring his tone as he remembered his shield brothers firm admonishment for their new companion.

Idrissa ignored the mention of Vilkas, holding up the studded shield that Eorlund had tasked her with delivering. "Eorlund send me to give this to you- he sends his regards, and apologizes for not being able to bring it himself. His wife is in mourning, and he was eager to get back to her." She explained as the other woman took the sheild from her.

"Ah- good. I have been waiting for this." She said, eyeing it with approval- Eorlunds work was always second to none. "So, do you think you could take Vilkas in a real fight?" She asked as she put the shield to the side, continuing the earlier line of conversation. Idrissa grimaced and gave a shrug.

"I dont care much for boasting." She told her, not wanting to sound overconfident-but at the same time not wanting to seem unsure of herself.

"Ah- a woman who lets her actions speak for her. I knew there was something i liked about you." She told Idrissa, nodding her approval. "Lets have Farkas show you where you'll be staying then- Farkas!" She called out Farkas's name, and Idrissa was sure that he wouldnt have been able to hear within the labyrinth of halls- but to her astonishment he appeared only moments after being called, as if he had been standing outside the door.

"Did you call me?" He asked, poking his head in the semi closed door with an unsure expression.

"Ofcourse i did, icebrain." She chided him, looking stern. "Show the new blood where the rest of the whelps sleep."

Farkas grinned at Idrissa in response, happy to show her around and get the chance to speak with her a little more and get to know her.

"Come on," He beckoned with a wave of his arm. "Lets get you settled."

She nodded, and waved the others good bye before exiting the room to follow Farkas down the cellar corridors.

"Ice brain?" She asked him curiously when she thought they were out of earshot- Vilkas had also called him that name earlier in Kodlak's study. He didnt seem daft to her though- just a little careless.

"Aye- Skjor and Aela like to tease me, but they are good people." He assured her with a lazy smile as they walked side by side, unbothered. "They challenge us to be our best."

He turned then, and suddenly she recognized where they were- close to the door that led to the meadhall where she had seen the barracks. They had to pass Kodlaks study again to get there.

"Its nice to have a new face around." He told her conversationally. " You seem nice enough- I hope we keep you- it can be a rough life." Idrissa blushed at the compliment, looking away from him and down to her feet as they walked.

"Your brother doesnt seem as thrilled." She retorted, feeling her insides grow hot at the memory of how he had treated her with such condescension- as if she werent worthy of the guild- Maybe because she herself didnt truly believe she was worthy.

"I warned you that he can be a hard ass, but dont worry- He'll get used to you." She nodded at his words of comfort, hoping that he was right- it would be hard enough to find her place in her new life without someone else making things more difficult. "Alright- this is the whelps courters- just pick a bed and fall in it when your tired." He told her as they stopped, arriving at their destination at the end of the hall.

Idrissa stepped into the room lined with straw mattresses. Each bed had its own entable placed beside it, with a small chest placed beneath the wooden frame for her to lock away any personal items she may have. She could tell which beds were claimed by personal affects left on the tables, and decorations adorning the walls above their beds.

"Tilma will keep the place clean- she always does." Farkas told her, gesturing back down the hall where they had come from, to the lady still sweeping the stone floor. Idrissa nodded, giving him a thankful smile as she exhaled heavily- it had already been a long day, and it wasnt yet evening. She would be relieved to take off her armor for the night, as it seemed she had been wearing it since her departure from home- which seemed like a lifetime ago now.

"So what now?" She asked, thankful to have someone she could question without judgment. He shrugged in response.

"The others are eager to meet you, so for now id advise you to get acquainted with your new shield brothers and sisters- you can come to either me or Aela if your looking for work. Once youve made a bit of a name for yourself, Skjor and Vilkas might have some things for you do to- Vilkas is the master at arms, and oversee's most of the training for younger members though." He explained helpfully, hoping to sound encouraging.

"Good luck," He told her as he turned away to make his leave. "And welcome to the Companions."