🟣 WEAPONS TRAINING (of a sort)
Emet-Selch sits in one of the chairs that border the training yard. His head is propped up on his hand, and his eyes are closed almost as though he has dozed off. Setting up the training yard has proved an exhausting task and he has come to feel that tiredness keenly.

Though, he needs to make sure he is present and available in case any chooses to ask for magic lessons. Any who ask may need to grab his attention first.

🟣 III. SURVIVAL - B
Emet-Selch may have been many things, but being able to sufficiently fend for himself is not one of his finer talents. Cooking is where this becomes painfully obvious. It's such a bother to fuss over ingredients and tailor them to taste. Not something he cares to deal with.

Though a good leader puts themselves in the trenches with their own. At least, that is his logic when trying to bother to cook something. Even if he does it poorly.

He rinses off some vegetables and puts them in a pan. No salt. No pepper. Nothing else with them. Emet-Selch just folds his arms and waits for them to cook with the heat on as high as it would go. The kitchen staff looks on with reasonable worry on their face.