Sordilar

As it turned out, it could be very, very difficult.

While there were several pieces that were immediately recognisable, such as a simple over shirt and boxer like underwear, the rest proved enigmatic in nature. After spending an inordinate amount of time struggling with the various loose ends, confusing which layer of clothing goes on top of the other, and trying to tie knots in various places that were never meant to have any, Simon eventually decided the basics would do, discarding the majority of the clothing in a pile on the bed.

He had chosen to wear the simplest shirt and trousers he could find, both akin to but distinct from the clothes he recognised from back home. The shirt was ruffled along the sleeves in a distinctly pompous way, and the buttons were place on both the shirt and trousers in reverse, yet otherwise the two seemed remarkably familiar. He had been given a selection of fancy brown boots that he found himself with no idea how to lace, instead resorting to an impromptu set of knots to keep it tied together. The socks were similarly easy, but came with a selection of tights that he found himself uneager to wear, and consequently discarded among the rest of the manifold clothes. Lastly, he topped the clothing off with a regally patterned red and white jacket, serviceable yet clearly designed to be worn under several of the layers he had just discarded. He had considered adding a fur cloak to keep himself warm should the situation arise, but it proved far too cumbersome and heavy to move in.

Sonia had clearly been frustrated with his choices when he presented himself, insisting he return and be dressed as properly befits his station, but ultimately relented after Simon's sincere pleas otherwise.

And so, after several troubled hours, Simon finally found himself outside again. The fresh air was deeply refreshing after having been trapped inside the tavern for so long, its stuffy and stagnant atmosphere having been only made worse by the gloomy and morose events that had plagued his visit. He couldn't help but smile in relief, surprising even himself with how pleasant it was to see the blue of the sky once again, pierced as it was by the grey cobbled towers that dotted the city walls.

Sonia had called the city Sordilar, seemingly translated as 'City of Illusion' from Godspeak, the aptly named and ancient language of the Gods. Simon made a point to ask about the origin of the name at a later point.

The tavern - The Illusion's Tankard - had been placed on what roughly constituted the large main street of the moderately sized city. There were several hundred, perhaps even a thousand people going about around markets stalls and a handful of buildings hosting larger stores and various services. Several merchants were barking their wares, shouting obnoxiously loud to be hear over the roar of the boisterous crowds. A few children deftly ducked and weaved between the legs of shocked adults, laughing and giggling conspiratorially as they ran their way down the street.

The scale of it all had shocked Simon when he first arrived earlier in the morning, surprised to see such a distinctly thriving population in a city that felt so distinctly medieval. He hadn't expected to see barren streets or worn down buildings of course, but the sheer scale of it felt shockingly and familiarly modern.

Sonia placed herself slightly in front of him, ensuring she was close enough that the crowds would struggle to separate them. "Stay close to me Sir Simon, we'll be travelling through the crowds for several minutes, it would be very easy for us to find ourselves separated in the deluge. Our destination is the Chapel Grounds at the center of the city, where we'll be able to begin your training and provide you with a private room to rest."

"Don't worry, I'll be able to keep up, just lead the way." The crowd was thronging the street wasn't so thick that Simon felt he would struggle to path through, while it was definitely busy, it wasn't as busy as some of the cities back home.

Sonia nodded and began to march ahead. She walked at a slower pace than usual, clearly not entirely trusting Simon's claim he could keep up, They manoeuvred their way along the side of the street, attempting to stay out of the heart of the crowd the best they could. Even so Simon had found himself occasionally getting separated as they went, the crowd flowing between them and pushing him back, but the stark contrast of the silver and red armour Sonia wore made it easy to rush back into step beside her.

Several times, Simon noticed people stopping to watch them as they passed, eyes gleaming, and whispering conspiratorially to the people beside them. It seemed the sight of Sonia, flanked closely by some strangely dressed stranger was a story all to easy to spread gossip about.

It wasn't long before they arrived at the end of the street, a large and imposing gate barring the path forward. Two sets of two guards, wearing armour of similar colour but clearly inferior make to Sonia were stationed on either side of the gates. Sonia didn't bother approaching them, instead walking directly toward the gate and stopping, clearly expecting it to open without any request.

Only moments later, the gate turned inwards on its hinges and began to shriek open, allowing the two of them passage. It only made sense, Simon thought; as the head of the military stationed here, Sonia would certainly command great authority, the guards would know what to do instinctually by sight.

The gates opened onto a large square compound, the inside of which looked so stereotypically like a military training ground that there was little question as to its purpose. Several straw dummies and archery targets had been lined up on separate sides of the courtyard, with several people taking turns on each, practicing their swing or draw as necessary.

"This is the training yard for our men, we may be limited in number but we strive to make up for it with our training and skill. There's no question about the loyalty of any man here, devout follower of Hethoria to the man. Anyone else already left years ago." She scanned the yard and briefly nodded at a man strictly observing the drills from the far side of the courtyard. "That is Orion, he's the master of arms of the Order and will be training you in combat, the Goddess saw fit to inform me you will be needing it."

"As in with a weapon? For fighting someone head to head? Can't I just focus on using magic when I need it?" Simon swallowed, the idea of using a sword or a spear wasn't unappealing in itself, but the very thought of why sent a cold chill creeping down his spine. The earlier incident flashed briefly through his mind.

"Magic can prove a disastrous crutch My Lord, while it is useful in various circumstances, relying solely on it can prove fatal. By training with Orion you will be preparing yourself for unexpected circumstances and will further learn how best to weave your magical talents in among close combat as necessary. Your brush with death in the tavern should serve as proof of my words."

He knew Sonia was right. It was only be sheer circumstance that his stumbling had kept him alive. If his attackers hadn't felt fit to play with their food he would have been dead again, without even having had a chance to fight back. Being able to hold his own and even supposedly use magic during situations like that would definitely be useful.

Realisation quickly surfaced in his mind. "You keep mentioning the quality of your troops. You're expecting to need them soon aren't you? Me being attacked in the tavern wasn't just a religious squabble, you're in full blown war. That's why you're so insistent on training me."

"It is not 'I' who am at war, it is you as well Sir Simon. You have been selected as our leader and I intend to ensure that you are ready to lead us. I do not pretend to understand why the Goddess chose you, but I will serve her will and see that you may lead us to victory." Sonia began to walk ahead through the courtyard toward the large staircase that rose up from its rear.

"The Order of Varok is currently gathering its forces to attack the city, and while they will need time to amass their scattered troops, it will not be more than a month before they begin their march. If we do not have the full gathered power of our forces and the unrestrained might of a Knight to aid us, our fall is assured."

Simon was quiet as they climbed the steps, the reality of Sonia's words sinking in deep with every step they took. They were climbing up to another walled compound, a large space positioned atop a steep hill. And easily defensible he realised.

He could see most of the city as they climbed, sprawling out from the main street and into various smaller districts. Just how many people lived here, he wondered. How many lives had just been put on his shoulders, and perhaps even more importantly, why? As far as he knew he was just another average guy, sure he loved strategy games, and was well read in fantastical worlds, but there was no way that would qualify him by itself. This faith needed a hero, and while he would definitely try, he wasn't any such thing.

Simon had expected them to alight into a courtyard of smaller but similar style to the courtyard they had just passed through. Instead, he was met by a lush and well maintained garden, several white and red robed persons tending to and watering the flowers, hedges, and bushes that adorned the space. The garden was surrounded by a large set of marble walkways, multi-floored and intricately patterned, themselves serving as an entranceway into a larger compound that Simon realised stretched back significantly further than he had first thought. From where he stood, he could just barely see a large bell tower peaking out into the sky.

"Welcome to the cloister of Hethoria, previously of the now deceased God Florient. I have organised the compound to house our army and the several priests that make up our forces. It has been provisioned with enough food for a six month siege and hosts our faith's current Grand Cathedral, which itself has been renovated to worship Hethoria. While I will continue to direct day to day tasks in your place, from now on I will serve under you" Sonia looked away from him as she spoke, and while her voice remained collected and emotionless as usual, Simon could sense a distinct frustration behind her words.

For a moment he wanted to argue he did not want the position, that he hadn't chosen it and that he would be far happier letting her lead but even as he thought so he realised the stupidity of the idea. She had clearly been devoting herself to leading these forces, faithfully fighting a battle she was certain they were to lose, and yet now she'd been overlooked by her Goddess for a man who barely understood which way was up.

"For the time being a Bishop will guide you to your room, here he comes now." 

A young, androgynous priest with long white hair approached them, bowing slightly before addressing Simon with an easy smile. "You must be Lord Simon, it's an absolute pleasure to meet you My Lord. I am Gideon, the one who prepared your clothing for you, though I am shamed to see how few met with your liking. Please forgive me."

He had an incredibly soft voice, speaking with a sweet and gentle lilt, a remarkable contrast to Sonia's cold but not quite chilly way of speaking. Simon couldn't help but feel terrible having him apologise like this.

"Wait wait, there's no need to say sorry, the clothes were good, great even, it's really my fault you know, too stupid to understand how they work, haha" he spoke awkwardly, struggling to find a way to easily explain why he was wearing the bare minimum of the clothes he had been given.

"Oh is that so? Huhu, how very curious... Our Knight couldn't even understand how to wear his clothes. How very curious indeed." Gideon's tone seemed to shift immediately, his soft lilt now seeming to mock him as it danced. The gentle smile he wore was also replaced by a sneer, though his eyes still remained clear and non-malicious.

"It's best not to take Gideon at face value Sir Simon, as a former Bishop of Florient he's maintained a mischievous personality, but I can personally assure you of his loyalty. Just try not to focus on his taunts."

"How you wound me Sonia. I assure you I haven't the faintest hint of mischief in me entire body, and would never even deign to consider doing such a thing. Surely you can see that Sir Simon, yes?" The playful tone of his voice implied anything but, and the almost comedically innocent batting of his eyelashes only furthered the point.

"Aha, yes definitely. The picture of honesty, clear as day, no doubt about it." Simon struggled out, feeling it was best to just play along for the time being.

"Hmhmm, I have a feeling me and you will get along wonderfully. Don't worry Sonia, you can leave him to me from here, I'll show him directly to his room, not tours or detours, not a one. Probably."

Sonia sighed resignedly. "Please Gideon... I have a few matters to attend to before I may return to help you with your training My Lord. I'll be back in around an hour. Until then, I advise you to not listen to any suggestions Gideon gives you." She nodded and began to walk back down the stairs.

"Alright Sonia, I won't! Thanks for your help till now! Can't wait to try that magic out! I'll be waiting!" Simon shouted after her as she left, feeling it was necessary he express his thanks somehow at least.

"Alright then, Mr. Simon, why don't I show you the way to you room then, hmm?" Gideon seemed to laugh with every word he spoke, even as he turned around and led the way inside.