[Remedial training. That's what her handlers had decided what would be best after the long road of recovery from her battle injuries. They knew better than to call it 'light duty' - any paladin would work themselves to the bone rather than take it easy while still on the job. So 'remedial training' it is, and Vastania awaits her charge for the day's exercises.]
[A light breeze ruffles the grass on the hill she's staked a claim to. The sun strikes her armor, and though it has been newly repaired it no longer gleams brightly. She waits, a towering figure - nearly seven and a half feet tall - over the plains, matched only by a hulking gray beast standing further afield. It too seems to be waiting, a saddle strapped to its back and adornments covering its trunk and tusks. A round shield and a crystal-headed hammer hang from its saddlebags. Vas' mount turns its head to face away from her, its curiosity piqued by the approach of another person.]
[And Vastania herself does not move.]
You're the one that I was sent to train? Fon Fabre?
Let's bring Luke out to play
[A light breeze ruffles the grass on the hill she's staked a claim to. The sun strikes her armor, and though it has been newly repaired it no longer gleams brightly. She waits, a towering figure - nearly seven and a half feet tall - over the plains, matched only by a hulking gray beast standing further afield. It too seems to be waiting, a saddle strapped to its back and adornments covering its trunk and tusks. A round shield and a crystal-headed hammer hang from its saddlebags. Vas' mount turns its head to face away from her, its curiosity piqued by the approach of another person.]
[And Vastania herself does not move.]
You're the one that I was sent to train? Fon Fabre?