Wayland
Ruus Camp
Arla had been very pleased to recieve the invitation to training on Wayland under the Alor of Clan Ruus. Her two young charges, Tuur and Vaar, different as they were, hard working and dedicated as they could be when they wanted to, needed experience. She got them to agree by constantly and with Arch's aid, repeatedly mentioning the event and that they believed the two thirteen-year-olds were too young and soft to handle it. Youth and hubris did the rest.
Forbidding the two from taking Cammy Rodarch along, the two instead took a shuttle, which Vaar was happy enough to pilot. The outdoors were not his favourite place to be, but a chance to fly was usually enough to get him to do anything unpleasant. His sister, Tuur, was motivated by a chance to tell buir that she knew what she was about. The two orphans respected their parents, even if they thought they were old, out of touch, and wrong about them.
After landing, Vaar gave the shuttle one last longing look before following his taller, stronger and far wilder sister to the gathering.
<Today we'll be doing a good ole' PT test. A test of your dedication to the cause. Clan Ruus would like to offer a chance to show your skill, your cleverness, and your ability to survive. Today, we'll be hiking out 16 miles through the jungle to the location I have chosen for Clan Ruus' new headquaters. Castle Ruus needs to be cleared, fortified, and laid down. Who you go with, I don't care. What you do along the way, I don't care. All I care about is how you get there. No jetpacks, no special jump boots, no fancy teleport belts or shaman magic. I'm expecting you to hike those 16 miles and ENJOY IT!>
The words of the rally master did not make either of them very happy. Miles of marching through unfamiliar terrain, far from home, without aid of mobility tech wasn't anyone's idea of fun. Neither was insolent enough to complain loudly, but within their helmets, they did mutter to one another on a private channel. Both nodded their assent to orders, and headed off together on the very long walk.
"I am going to kill Buir when we get back." Tuur said, her voice as certain as a teenage girl's could be. Vaar knew his adoptive sister well enough not to ask which buir, for she was liable to want to kill both of them for sending her here.
"I wonder if this planet has caves." Vaar wondered aloud, not so much deliberately changing the subject as genuinely interested in not being so exposed to the outside.
Tuur ignored her shabla brother, turning her helmeted head away in mock disgust, but paying attention to the jungle they were walking through. This wasn't her native desert, and though she'd never let anyone, least of all her brother know it, she didn't care for the jungle. It felt alien to her. She held tight to her anger to keep her on edge, trying to focus it as she had been taught, not let it distract her. Vaar was also on edge, but from anxiety rather than simmering anger.
Both of them wore their own armour. Tuur's was larger, with more accoutrements including an integrated belt-fed railgun. Vaar's was a scout's minimal, stealthy attire, with the dull black color of his beskar'gam better for blending in, especially in the dark. His light frame was well suited to tight spaces. His elders called that useful, but he wished very much to be full grown. Vaar did feel more at home in the open in his 'gam, though in his true home he preferred to not wear the armour all the time, as some did. His sister was so rarely at home, because the desert was her true home.
They were both out of their element here, but Vaar was far more able to admit that to himself than his sister, who wore a stoic mask. Both were glad of the other's presence. It was one thing to face danger and the unknown, but another entirely to face it entirely alone.
Drego Ruus
Mia Monroe
and
Ijaat Mereel
a chance to show off the ideals of Clan Ruus. To put forward his beliefs not just on paper, but on soil and dirt. Into the souls of the boots of the men.
