Truth be told, her ears had been expecting words of great ability, or perhaps a history of escaping a troubled life to seek refuse within the open arms of their lands. But to hear of such a creative skill as magic came as quite a shock to the Nomad. An ear perked in interest as again her gaze drifted between the female and her male counterpart. When his possible role as a guard was offered, the woman could not help but visually inquire about his form. Where the body of his companion was lithe and light, his was the opposite, more built for offense and guard as was suggested. The difference between the two when placed side by side was almost comical. No doubt he was suited to fulfill the role.
“The class in which you speak of are the Creationists,” her gaze returned to the female as she spoke. “And your companion would be better suited to the Envoy ranks, of which I lead. If these are roles the two of you wish to fill, you must know that it is not without some exhibition of your abilities. Only when you prove that you can care for yourselves as well as the others of the pack will you be able to ascend to your desired roles. Even magicians must be able to show they can hunt and fill other essential tasks before captivating us with their wonders.” Kindly, the woman smiled.
“But before you are given this chance,” she continued, the smile waning as the seriousness of their requests came to light once more. All enthusiasm and hope aside, there was protocol to be adhered to not just for their benefit, but for the safety of the individuals the woman protected. “I must ask the two of you a question. The conditions of which matter little and only the truth is advised; have either of you taken a life? Be it to defend yourselves, or protect a loved one; have you killed?”