The same as Daniel in another room, there was a person who barely stepped outside their own room.
The light coming through the window shone upon Bram, who was checking his equipment. His leather jerkin was torn in several places, the metal fittings dented; it was no longer usable and would need to be replaced.
The jerkin smelled faintly of blood and sweat, the stench of days-old battle clinging stubbornly to the leather no matter how long he left it by the window. One of the shoulder straps had been half-severed, held together only by stubborn threads.
His fingers traced the gouges on the metal fittings, remembering each strike that left its mark, and each close call that had followed.
His main sword was bent a little, but that was easily fixed. The spears he had were all used up, and he had none left. Overall, that second trial had cost him more than he expected.
'I hope they give me new equipment... Still, this room is pretty nice.'
