You, My Young Neophyte...

Tehran stood in the main hall of the Order's fort, eyes darting around to take in his surroundings as he waited to be called upon. He'd arrived early, barely even ten minutes after five, and was just directed towards the back of the hall and shown where to wait. The hall was spacious, the ceiling probably a good fifty feet above the ground while the hall, at it's widest, spanned about forty feet. There were only two doors that Tehran could see, the one he came in from, and the one he was standing outside of now. The hall was plain in every sense of the word, the only things that stood out at all were six stained-glass windows, three on each side of the hall, depicting figures cloaked in shadow performing what seemed to be a random assortment of crimes.

One man, his figure and face distorted by darkness, had driven a sword into another man's back, the sword's tip sticking out from his chest on the other side. The slain man's head was bowed down towards the sword in what Tehran could only guess to be horror or pain given that he had no facial features. Another window depicted a man, once more clad in shadow, taking what looked like a scroll from an absurdly ornate box not much bigger than the item itself. Tehran wasn't sure what the significance of these depictions was, but if they were placed in the main hall they were likely important pieces of the Order's history.

As he examined the other windows he passively noticed several other people join him to wait. Given that they wore the same training garb as Tehran, he paid them little attention, they were likely just other Neophytes here for the same reason as him. Shortly after another of the Neophytes passed Tehran, they came to a stop, turning back and taking another glace at Tehran, or more specifically his legs. He had mumbled something, but it was too quiet for Tehran to hear, nor did he care for other's opinions about his race. He was Tulkan, sure, but in no way did he see himself as inferior to humans. Strength was his advantage, as was stamina and speed. His race's most defining feature tended to be their digitigrade legs or their horns. Tehran didn't, at least for now, have any horns, so the most obvious difference for him remained his legs and elongated wolf-like paws. The most annoying part of it all wasn't the stares or even the racism, it was finding a pair of freaking pants. Tehran wasn't the only Tulkan here, so they had some tailored for his race, but any pants that covered past his knees felt too restrictive. It was frustrating enough that he eventually just tore away any excess material from the legs down and-

Tehran's incoherent train of thought was interrupted when the nearby door creaked open, drawing his attention. Standing in the doorway was an older man, likely somewhere in his forties, with short taupe-ish hair, though, it was closer to gray than it was brown. He wore the uniform of an Elder; ornamental black robes that fit snugly to the body, allowing Tehran to see that, though older, the man was incredibly fit. Unlike the uniforms that Thanes wore, these were rather ornate in comparison. The chest was embroidered with a golden crow, symbolizing the 'Order of Crows'' name. Each robe's crow was grasping something different in its talons, dependant on the Elder's role in the Order, a quill and an eye in this case. Tehran wasn't really sure what each one meant, they weren't yet taught about it, or maybe they were withholding that information on purpose. Some sections of the robe, namely the shoulders and the sides, were armored with small iron plates. Rumor had it that it each elder wore chainmail underneath the robes as well. Tehran wondered for a moment, "But wouldn't that make them rather heavy and awkward to wear?" Either way, the man was to be respected. Tehran doubted the he had achieved his position with roses and delicious foods, after all.

"Herman, step inside." The elder called out before stepping back through the door, swiftly followed by a nervous looking Neophyte. Silence once more overcame the main hall as the door shut behind him. It seemed like everyone was straining to hear what was going on on the other side of the door, though no sound escaped the room. It wasn't until several minutes later that the door opened again, the Neophyte from before leaving while looking rather confused. "Greggor, step inside." The Elder repeated from within the room. The Neophyte hurried to obey the command, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

This process repeated itself four more times, a different Neophyte entering only to leave several minutes later looking either confused, happy, or some kind of mix of the two. Tehran had been wondering for a while now what exactly was happening within the room. His interest was piqued and it seemed like the remaining three Neophytes waiting nearby shared the sentiment.

"Tehran. Step inside." The elder called out once more, causing Tehran to nearly jump in nervous surprise. He made his way through the door a bit more cautiously than the others had, he wasn't exactly thrilled to be speaking to an Elder, it was actually somewhat terrifying. As he stepped into the room, Tehran made a conscious choice to leave the door open. He hadn't been ordered to close it, and most importantly if it was open he could… What? Run from an elder? That was just laughable. He had been trained here for years and he knew it was pointless to run from anyone in charge. He'd tried once, only to be whipped a dozen times and thrown into a stockade overnight.

Tehran took a quick glance around, noting that there was one more individual just barely visible in a far corner of the room, likely a Thane, leaning against the wall. "Three points. Close the door," The Elder said casually. Confused for a moment, he did as he was told, reaching backwards and pushing the door closed behind him, his eyes never fully leaving the Elder. "One point." The elder said, seemingly as a reaction to when, or maybe how, Tehran closed the door. "They're testing us based around our actions somehow," Tehran though to himself, eyes widening in realization as he looked at the elder, who responded with a smile before saying, "One point."

"Sit down," the Elder directed, pointing lazily to the chair on the other side of his desk. "I'll be going over basic info first and foremost, then there will be some questions after," the Elder reached for a stack of papers on his desk, quickly looking over them before returning his gaze back to Tehran once he was seated.

"Tehran, a twelve year old Tulkan." The Elder began, "It would seem that we purchased you at some backwater town five years ago and instead of placing you with the servants, someone decided to have you trained. Apparently, given that you are standing - well, sitting - here to be appraised for the advanced courses, our time was not wasted," The Elder said, seeming somewhat amused as he rested his chin on in his left hand. "You are currently twelve, should my report here be accurate." Tehran simply nodded in response, letting the Elder continue, "Out of this years fifth-year students, you're the youngest by a year yet still on top in most areas; mathematics, melee combat, herbology, and anatomy, the last of which seems to be your best subject. Though, apparently, as your Thane so eloquently states," the Elder took a moment to sigh tiredly, putting his hand across his forehead in either exasperation or annoyance, Tehran wasn't quite sure which, before he continued, "'The kid sucks ass with a bow'. I could do with less of his crude humor sometimes, or maybe a bit more coffee would suffice." The Elder turned towards the Thane as he asked, "Do you mind, Aaron?" The Thane nodded, "Of course, Elder" Before turning around and grasping something that Tehran couldn't see.

"You're grades are adequate, though not spectacular, and your talent is well above average in most regards. He may be, shall we say, frustrating at times, but Lamar is strict and has more than twice-over proven himself as an instructor, so his word carries some additional weight." As the Elder finished, the Thane came over with a steaming cup of what Tehran assumed to be the coffee he asked for earlier. Using that momentary distraction, Tehran shifted to a more comfortable position in his seat.

"Now, I have a few questions for you." The Elder leaned back into his chair, taking a drink and entwining his fingers around the cup in his hands, then staring back over at Tehran who was nodding his head somewhat hesitantly. "Let me start by asking, what do you think about the training you have received here, the classes you have been made to take?

"I suppose it's what I could expect from a military camp?" Tehran tentatively asked, unsure what kind of answer the Elder was looking for. "The classes are pretty easy for the most part, though most of them are rather boring. Anatomy was what kept my attention the most, it was gross at first, but the inside of people and animals is actually pretty interesting. The field combat practice is still the best, sparring with others makes me feel… Warm, or kinda' excited, I guess?" Tehran could tell he didn't answer quite the way the Elder was expecting, but saw him smile for a short moment before explaining.

"I suppose when you are raised in this environment for most of your life, and having come from a Tulkan village instead of a human settlement, you wouldn't really catch onto the… peculiarities of how we train our troops. True, we are something of a military camp. Most everyone you see out there will be joining a private army in the years to come, but a select few, like yourself, have the potential to become what we are actually looking to train. Professionals of a darker occupation than soldiers." Tehran was listening closely, it sounded awesome, whatever it was, and his interest was piqued. The Elder seemed to know what he was thinking, leaving a good solid pause before he told him what he wanted to hear.

The elder smiled widely at how eager Tehran was, "You, my young Neophyte, are going to become an assassin."