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~RP~

Rhiana entered the armory, a thoughtful look on her face. She gazed at the mass array of weaponry in front of her, awed by the beauty of every blade and every shield. She had been drafted into the Guard the day before, and was instructed to choose a weapon and go to the training room. "I don't really need a weapon, do I? There's always my power." She said aloud. She had taken to conversing with herself after the loss of her brother, so as to not be driven mad by her crazy thoughts. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the energy around her. The air was buzzing with power.
Humming softly, she selected a sword. It was a unique sword, one made of black iron and the hilt encrusted with amber stones. The balance was perfect, the length complimentary with her long, willowy arms. Rhiana carefully secured a belt at her hip, the tarnished silver belt that was mandatory for the Guard's armor. She slid the sword into the sheath and smiled to herself. "I suppose I do see the lure of weapons. They're quite striking; beautiful and dangerous at once." She drew her hood up around her face and turned to the opposite wall, where someone had hung a mirror. She grabbed the sword and held it aloft, as if to strike someone. She posed like this for a while, admiring the wicked gleam of her blade. This was her one flaw; hubris. She believed that she excelled far past any of her peers. It was one she hated to acknowledge. It was one that had killed... No. Her blissful mood shifted suddenly with the painful memory. Her arm dropped to her side, and she sank to her knees, breathing heavily.