Michael
The bustle of the merchantile district of Shaslandi had reached the zenith with the rise of the sun, which bore down the street oppressively, casting spots of light and dark with equal measure in harsh contrast, shifting behind every single passerby as they paced down the street energetically, on their way to some business of one sort or another,

The merchants were particularly exuberant this day, bellowing out offers and deals from the safety of shade, pausing only to wipe sweaty brows, and clear throats with drink, creating a massive cacophony of varied accents that sought to drown each other out in the hopes of catching the attention of an interested ear.

Yet, at this particular juncture, there was a place that stood out from the rest.

A large guildhall rose to the air, the antiqued architecture of stone and wood holding a weight absent from the nearby buildings, that seemed to wordlessly clear the doorstep from hawkers and idlers, as if they knew not to taint the air of history surrounding the place

Outside stood a banner with an emblem emblazoned upon it, pristine as the day the final thread was woven into place, without a hint of fade despite being battered by the elements outside.
Willie
Amidst the hustle and bustle of the streets, a new face pushes through the crowds. Her travel had been long, but her exhaustion was fortunately worn away from the past few nights in the inn. With her vitality at its fullest, it was finally time to take the first step in carving her own path.

The tall building of wood and stone had at last stood before the traveler, its reputation almost seeming to coalesce in an aura about it. If there was any doubt she had the right place, it would be dashed away by the large banner hung from its walls. No, her doubts were not of whether this was the right place...

*...But how exactly do you enter a place such as this?*

This notion of formality is a thought that only just appeared in her mind, yet one that would not easily leave it. Is a simple knock all that is required? No, surely a knock would look foolish — was she expecting some sort of servant to answer the door for her? This is a prestigious place, no doubt, but she did not see it as the type to employ doormen. 

She'd decide that the best course of action would be to walk in as though she belonged — for soon enough, she will belong. The first obstacle was cleared, now that she's made it past the front door.
Michael
As the doors opened soundlessly and smoothly- a sign of well-oiled joints, the reception hall revealed itself to the bright-eyed aspirant.

The wooden floor gleamed with a lacquer of perfect lustre. Blades and shields of different types and stripes hung off the walls, polished to a mirror sheen, seemingly capturing any stray beam of light from the windows high above to condense into a blinding glare, dazzling any onlooker with ease. 

The coats emblazoned upon them stood bright and vividly, boasting of esteemed owners who equally put these halls with great regard.

If the outside of the guildhall hinted at the weight of a long history, the reception hall, having successfully invited an aspirant to enter, would openly and proudly presented and expounded on its glories and lineages, past and present, almost enough to knock down a person with sheer awe.

A few people wearing formal attire or padded jackets lounged around, talking amongst themselves or otherwise being occupied with their own business, with swords of all models hanging from their hips.

At the end of the hall, there was a receptionist's desk, with the clerk behind it wearing a stern expression with a hard brow as he concentrated on something.

All in all, Yonghui's presence seems to have been largely unnoticed, with one or two faces taking a side glance before returning to whatever they were working on, apparently not at all stirred beyond cursory interest.
Willie
The building was unlike anything she'd ever seen. She had thought her abode in Gas-Zmubz was luxurious, but in comparison to this building, she now believes otherwise. 

She panicked inside briefly as gazes turned towards her, but as the building's residents resumed to their former activities, it was clear that entering without knocking was the correct choice. As she walked down the hall towards the desk, she refrained herself from eying the decor upon the walls, instead keeping her eyes focused on the clerk as she approached.

After finally reaching the desk, she would suddenly realize — she has no idea what she's supposed to say. Is she supposed to start with a greeting? No, perhaps it would be best if she simply states what her purpose of coming here is.

...No, to begin conversation without a greeting is barbaric. She must at the very least let her presence be known.

*"Hello."* She would state simply, with a low, tone that may be confused for stoicism, while the true origin of the voice is genuine social ineptitude.

*"I'd like to learn to fight."* She continued, talking somewhat quietly as to not bring the attention of anyone else in the room — this is a conversation between herself and the clerk.
Michael
The clerk slow tilts his head upwards, re-aligning his glasses as he does so, before squinting at Yonghui for a brief moment, bobbing his head up and down to fixate on different parts of her bearing.

Eventually, his scrutiny comes to an end with one look into her eyes with a stony gaze, before he disengages his eyes and nods slowly to himself, seemingly having discerned something.

"I see. If you would like to be registered as a student, the walk-in fee shall be 1 gold piece. Once you have paid the fee, there will be no refunds."

Pausing a moment to let the cost sink in, he steeped his fingers, placing his elbows upon the table.

"As a student, you may gain access to the rest of the hall, including the library, where you may peruse a limited number of treatises, and the training hall, where you may watch the others spar freely or book a slot for personal use."

The clerk halts once again, this time to gesture with a slow rotation of the right palm, towards a notice board far to the right, with papers of all sorts neatly pinned upon it.

"You may also sign up for courses of all sorts, from workshops to focus sessions, of which the details are on the schedule board."

Then, he calmly explained the code of conduct all students were expected to adhere to, matched with a solemn warning to neither tarnish nor abuse their affiliation with the Freefencers, lest one face a dishonourable expellation from the guild, never to be allowed back into any Freefencing hall. 

The droning monotone of his voice was oddly soothing, carrying just enough inflexion to maintain one's attention, yet given enough time even variation became repetition and began to chip away at one's psyche flake by flake.

After an indeterminate amount of time, the clerk finally pauses one last time, eyes turning upward to meet Yonghui's own once more.

"Do you accept the following terms and conditions?"
Willie
As the unending explanation of the code of conduct finally reached its end, Yonghui was met with equal parts relief and exhaustion. 

"Yes." She says, simple and firm. "I'd like to sign up as a student."

She then reaches into her pouch, digging through it a moment, before she produces a single gold piece. It was fortunate that she had one, because handing over a pile of silver coins would surely make the clerk's job needlessly more difficult.

Her gaze then turns towards notice board, idly searching from a distance for anything that interests her — though, from this far, she's unlikely to be able to read much of anything. She decides she must stow her excitement, and wait until the clerk is finished; running off if he had something more to add would surely be impolite.
Michael
With a simple nod, the clerk smoothly palms the gold coin, before leaning slightly under the desk to bring out a heavyset, hardcovered ledger, lacquered with the emblem of the freefencers upon it.

With a creak of the tight bindings, it opens to a specifically bookmarked page that was only partially filled in.

"Name you wish to be registered under, and any city you wish to proclaim that you hail from- if that suits your fancy, that is."
Willie
The name, of course, was simple to fill in:

"Mae Yonghui." She'd say, before proceeding to spell it out letter-by-letter — it was a name uncommon enough that it'd warrant such.

After that was, of course, her hometown. Memories of Siui fill her head, the sweet scent plums of the Zmaran orchards fill her nostrils...

...Then the streets of Gaz-Zmubz, the constant bustle not unlike the Mentian streets just outside.

"You may leave my hometown blank, for now." She responded — surely that would be no issue, for the clerk had implied it was optional.
Michael
"Then an accord is struck, Miss Mae Yonghui." 

Pronouncing her Runranian name perfectly without skipping a beat, the clerk quickly inked her name in neat cursive, in one smooth pass of the pen.

Slowly closing the ledger shut with a soft thud, the clerk then slid his palm across the table, slowly overturning it to reveal a small emblem.

"An insignia proving your membership to any branch. Keep it closely and do not lose it. May the wisdom of the old masters be with you."

With one final nod, this time of acknowledgement, the clerk returns to whatever clerical work he was engaged with previously, not a second sooner nor later.

The reception hall was quiet. It certainly wasn't silent, but Yonghui was far removed from any conversations in the room, all thoroughly muffled at this distance.
Willie
She returns a nod, as she takes the insignia, slipping it into the small satchel on her hip. She assumed after that, the conversation would now be over, and so she would leave without another word — once again, an action pushed forward by her complete social ineptitude.

She approaches the notice board, searching through the list of classes for something that would catch her eye. Placing a hand idly on the handle of her sword, she scans the board for anything related to swordfighting. Primarily, she'd be looking for something related to two-handed swords — it'd be a shame to have to throw out a sword as valuable as hers, just to learn a different fighting style.
Michael
At the notice board stood a lanky man in dark robes, with a dark orange chaperon hat and shoulder cape that hung off his left shoulder, closely taking a look at the various papers pinned upon it.

As Yonghui approached, he turned for a brief moment, revealing part of his visage as he idly picked at his red bushfire of a beard, his orbs of molten crimson making only brief contact with her form before he turned his attention back, though he would take a step to the right to make some room for her.
Willie
As eye contact was made, she'd pause briefly, her own light blue eyes shifting around awkwardly, almost seeming to avoid contact. Fortunately, first impressions likely wouldn't be important — after all, what were the odds she'd be speaking to this man at all? In a guild as large as this, it was unlikely she'd even see this man again, let alone be forced to talk with him.

As she continues to scan the pages on the board, she seems to struggle to find something fitting for her. Her eyes flick from mentian greatsword fighting styles, to rapier dueling, but none of them seem to quite match her visions.

*Does she dare to ask this man for advise?*

Surely asking for advise would make her appear amateurish, but so does signing up as a student, so it's not as if that can be avoided at this point.

"Are you... Familiar with the courses here?" She'd ask aloud, without moving her gaze from the board.
Michael
Blinking at the sudden question, though not showing any overt surprise, the man turns once more, this time turning his head fully to face her.

"Why yes, I suppose so. Looking for something, young miss?"

Were she to look carefully, she would notice the visably Siuian features of his wisened, yet strong complexion.
Willie
She's already begun conversation, she cannot turn back now.

"I was wondering if there are any classes dedicated to..." She takes a moment to think of what kind of sword she has exactly. Saber is likely the word most often used to describe curved blades, but the sword on her side was far too long to be simply called a saber and nothing else.

After a noticeably long pause, she continues, "...Long... Saber?"

If she referred to it incorrectly, she'd look like an absolute *Fool*, but even so, she must know.

If the man she's speaking to was perceptive (of which, she most definitely was not, with her eyes still planted on the board), he may notice that her distinctly Siuian accent contrasts with her Runran features.
Michael
The man's mouth curls upwards, forming a small smile, as his interest in her seemed to rise the longer she spoke.

Suddenly, Siuian syllables rolled off from his tongue.

 "*The changdao, you mean*?"
Willie
Finally, she would take her gaze off the board, turning to face the man who awkwardly towered over her. Her pale blue eyes made contact with his, even if very briefly, before focusing on his mouth instead — it seems eye contact is not an easy task for her. In truth, that word was utterly unfamiliar to her, but it seemed very familiar to this man — and it sounded like it was of Runran origin, which would make sense.

"Yes." She responded, feigning confidence. 

Her hand rests idly on the handle of her sword, as she turns her body to show off the sheathed blade at her side. The jet-black scabbard had a small yet intricate golden design near its base, and its shape bore a distinct slight curve. The blade itself was rather broad, almost resembling that of a falchion, though longer, and more nimbly balanced toward the handle. Its handle itself had grooves shaped to fit one's fingers.

"I... Take it you know of such a course?"
Michael
The man bent down, until his eyes, crinkling with mirth, were at the same eye level, despite Yonghui's unconscious attempt to look away- an amusing sight that bore much resemblance to an elder gently speaking to a child.

"Well, the long saber isn't a common weapon around these parts, so far away from the Runranian colonies and heartlands... So unfortunately, there are few workshops conducted regarding it, and even fewer in detail."
Willie
As the man crouched down to meet her at eye level, she couldn't decide which she hated more: him towering above her, or him crouching to meet her. Unfortunately this was simply something someone as 'vertically challenged' as her would have to deal with regularly.

While some may feel discouraged hearing there are few workshops conducting saber combat, she instead focused on a different part of the statement.

"Few... But not none?" It was clear to her that he knew *Something* — you don't simply name something in its original dialect if you're unfamiliar with the subject.
Michael
That was the straw that provoked a chuckle from the man, letting loose some of his pent up mirth.

"Now, that's the spirit! That blade is in worthy hands!" 

Nodding appreciatively at the craftsmanship of the blade, he continued.

"Indeed! Although demand for such courses is itself quite low, that does not mean that there aren't practitioners of the weapon about, of which some may be willing to instruct in the use thereof if approached."
Willie
In response to the chuckle, her reaction was to stare blankly. A laugh is a good thing, surely, but what's important is that he answered positively. Despite her standoffish appearance on the outside, it does instill her with confidence to hear him tell her she's worthy to use the sword.

She does not look forward to having to talk to someone else, but such an interaction is inevitable.

"Do you know where I may find someone?"
Michael
"Hmm..." The man's eye's continue to flicker with levity, as if considering something. 

"Why, yes, I do! In fact, I know one of them very well. But..."

He hummed.

"As you would probably guess, it is unlikely that they have any courses planned regarding the detailed use of it. Thus, the only way to be taught is to have one teach you personally, one on one." 

Turning around, the man starts pacing about in a small circle.

"And as that takes much time and is a true show of a master's teaching skills, you must either submit a generous sum..."

He suddenly turned back.

"...Or impress one of them to take you on as an apprentice."
Willie
If the man was trying to hint at something, it would fly completely over her head — she was definitely not one to pick up on subtlety.

"How generous of a sum specifically?"

Payment was by far the easiest route for her, as she would soon explain:

"If I had skills enough to impress a master, I wouldn't *Be* Here, so unless they're easily impressed by spells, payment seems my only option."
Michael
The man blinked, slightly taken aback for a bit before realisation struck his expression.

"I see, let me explain. For the personal attention of a instructor proficient in the usage of such a weapon, you would need to pay at a rate of 1 gold coin per session of 2 hours."
Willie
"A gold per two hours..." Such a price was steep indeed, but a private tutoring session is absolutely worth the cost, even if she could only afford a finite amount of sessions.

"I can afford that. Where may I find this master?"

The perseverance is all to clear to see on her expression. She hasn't ventured all the way from Siui to miss her opportunity at a private session.
Michael
An odd expression crept its way to the man's face when faced with this question, having seemingly been somewhat taken off guard by her response.

"Is that so? Hmm..."

Rubbing his beard, he tilted his gaze towards the ceiling in deep thought, before turning back with a sigh.

"I see. Well, then."

Suddenly, the man changed. 

A slack back straightened into a rigid pole, and his mirthful eyes sharpened into that of an hawk's.

"I suppose it's a lucky coincidence that you have already found him."
Willie
Her eyes suddenly drift around the room. The master is someone she's met? Was it the clerk at the front desk?

Then, like a smack in the face, she realizes her stupidity at that thought.

"...Is he you?" She asks, her eyes returning to him. She had a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

She truly is a master of deduction.
Michael
With that response, the aura of severity that had settled on the man faded like the fog, and joviality returned to his being threefold.

"Correct-o, young lady!~~John Fight~~ Kohm Fidres, certified Master of ~~Fight~~ the Freefencers, at your service!"

Mock-bowing in a dramatic fashion, the now named man returned to his full height, a wide smile plastered across the length of his features.

"What a strange sight indeed! A siuian of runranian ancestry walking into these halls with a runranian long saber to learn how to fight with it... If you don't mind my curiosity, why so?"
Willie
The 'why' to her actions were rather simple, and impulse took over momentarily.

"Because—"

She caught herself, but she already began speaking, so she decided to pick her words more deliberately.

"...My previous 'master' refused to teach me. At least you see the potential in me."

She seems to put a strange emphasis on the word 'master', as though the word was forced out of her mouth.

"What's important is that you *Will* Teach me, right?"
Michael
"I see, I see. Hmm..." Kohm idly stroked his beard, demarcating a pause in the conversation, though no signs of consideration for his next sentence could be seen on his face- rather, it almost seemed that he was waiting for the right moment for something to happen.

Indeed, what would, and should have been a brief lull suddenly took on a tense quality with his next words.

"Now, take it easy, young lady." Kohm begun, easy look still on his face, not directly responding to the question posed to him. 

"I see why you walked into the halls. But lets go a step further back. To the root of it all."

His eyes suddenly took on an intensity as the flaming orbs burned straight into Yonghui's own gaze.

"Now, why did you pick up that long saber?"
Willie
Yonghui is surprised by the sudden questioning, not quite seeing how this pertained at all to swordfighting. As Kohm stares into her eyes, she still subconsciously finds a way to avoid direct eye contact. 

"I... Figured you for a swordmaster, not a therapist — is this truly important?"

It seems she's rather keen on avoiding talk of such a subject.

Despite her willingness to avoid the subject, however, she is swayed by the fear of him simply not teaching her if she refuses to answer. 

"But if it matters, I wished to take my life into my own hands. My life before was like a boat drifting down a canal, incapable of going any way but forward..."

She glances down at the sword at her side.

"...And I've just learned how to walk."

She figures this man for the type to take well to analogies, more than simple statements.
Michael
Kohm nods, a severity settling over him as he clearly found meaning in her answer, possibly more than Yonghui did in any case.

"You'll see in time." He answers gnomically, with not a word more said.

"Regardless..." The edge of his lips drifted upwards. "I see your desire to learn, and as a freefencer, I am obliged to reciprocate."

Kohm turned around, hands clasped behind his back.

"Speak to Mr Derek at the counter over there, tell him that I've accepted you- he'll sort things out."

His head tilts backward, a crimson pupil revealing itself. 

"I'll see you tomorrow, then. Rest well, and have a hearty meal before we meet. Also..."

A deep breath is taken.

"What is your name, young lady?"
Willie
She turns toward the clerk at the desk — the man she can only assume to be this 'Mister Derek' — before turning back to Kohm. The enigmatic nature of her soon-to-be sword instructor stuck out to her, but it would be hypocritical to think poorly of it — she's not the most open person either, after all.

When asked for her name, a simple response is given, deciding to completely gloss over the fact that she had forgotten to introduce herself earlier.

"Mae Yonghui."