Furtively, Trill slinks into the room, scans down the pages of the Ledger.
So many names, so many hopes and dreams poured into each scribbled line. Now she prepares to invest her own future into a line of caligraphy. Normally she belittles the written word, such a dry and emotionaless way of presenting your view. How better it is to weave your tale with elation and dread through a warbled song, or a cacophonic shrill. Prejudices aside, she makes long a elaborate strokes as she pens her request.
Apparently, there are people who serve Honourably. Apparently, they make no judgement on the colour of your skin. Nor on your past. Regardless of your parentage, or deity worshipped.
Trill calms herself, she can feel her expectations rising up to overpower her, she bites her lip to silence an overenthusiastic hum. She always hums to herself for comfort. Laying the script down, she rests back and checks her scrawl.
It reads "I am uncertain of my worthiness to enter your order, but my troubled heart sings Honour in every beat. I struggle eternally against the upbringing I recieved, but have found some solace and comfort with the companionship of others and wish to solidify my desires with your help and guidance. As Teir'Dal I commit my will to your order of Honour, I hope you will consider my affiliation. My voice, lute and drum are laid at your disposal - I vow to raise the orders spirit and wane the enemy's strength. Sincerely Trill"
Ornately scribed below that are three words in ancient Teir’Dal
'Sundu Gareth Bashuk', approximately equates to "Sing of Strength and Honour" in common tongue.
Before the ink is dry, Trill is gone.