Starting Down the Path

Finding a day without rain, and decent weather overall, James makes his way bright and early to the government offices in the city. Arriving there soon after their opening, he quickly get's shown to the office that handles new citizens. After a little back and forth and being told what paperwork he needs to fill out, James is given the forms and told to come back when they're done. He thanks them and heads back out, eager to finish the other work he needs to do, but now feeling fully and truly starting down the path of his plan.
 
It's a very slow day in the yard at the Church of Lucetius, with many just waiting around. Gathering them together he tells everyone that he's got two barrels of the good Eisen dark ale waiting to be delivered. And that anyone who helps him with cleaning out the old storage room, and helping him catalogue what was in there, is welcome to enjoy the ale, so long as it doesn't interfere with the rest of their duties. With the help of the workers, the room is completely emptied in quick order. The inventory takes longer but as the sun sets, the inventory is done and the two full barrels of ale are delivered by a rather stout, white furred bearkin and their cart. James greets Nel kindly, helping them unload and tap the barrels. As the final paperwork is done and the crates are taken to various areas based on what's in them, a cheer goes up from the assembled people. Making sure he's not the first in line for the ale, he eventually fills a mug with the wonderful beverage, get's another for Nel, and they both walk into the now cleared room.
 
They talk about ideas for it, plans, dreams, and the good it can do helping people learn the arts martial. Thinking over the materials in the crates outside, including a few of dull weapons that they were surprised to stumble upon, James looks at what needs to be done before he can say it's open. "Only another day, maybe two if I go slow. Three if I want it to look good." The well worn wooden floors of the room, along with the stout wooden pillars make his plans a lot easier. "La Academia de Ciencias Marciales, the Academy of Martial Sciences. That's what I'm calling it. Gives it an air of refinement, don't'cha think?" He laughs as they talk, drinking sparingly, while the workers, with a monumental effort and time, see the barrels drank dry.
 
The next day James is in the room, sweeping it out, and wrapping a thick layer of old sailcloth around the pillars. Putting together some crude weapon hangers, he sets the weapons in them, finding a bit of everything. None in true combat ready fashion, but more than sufficient for training. Making some deals around town for scrap wood or sections of trees to use as striking targets or throwing targets, he takes his time to get those delivered. "Maybe I'll include archery at some point. But for right now, I think I'll stick with the close in stuff." His final bits are several very heavy bags made of well sewn sailcloth filled with sand hung from the ceiling. He ends that day with a bit of training, like his old teachers drilled into him. An hour later he leaves, locks up the room, saying a few prayers of thanks. "Yes, this is a fine start to this indeed." Finally able to take a breath, James sits down to go over the paperwork and write the information needed for his citizenship application.