Finding a Light (attn: silhouette)

[Moseley]

Light be praised that she did not yet have a roommate, because Dovaen had spent the night crying, throwing fits, and mostly sleepless. When the sun broke over the horizon, she pulled herself together, washed her face and ran to the armory, where her mentor had told her to meet her at dawn. Pausing only to ask for directions, she managed to arrive at the armory early. She didn't see the woman with the odd hair, so, curious girl she was, decided to gander around.

 

There was no one in the armory and Dovaen was grateful for it. Inspecting the weapons, she picked up a double-edged arming sword, and ran her finger along the blade. Very sharp, she thought to herself. Across the room the was a two-handed greatsword with several sapphires in the pommel, and next to it a dangerous looking whirlbat. She put down the arming sword and began picking up a javelin, when she heard the door open and she quickly dropped it, looking to see who was at the door.

[silhouette]

With a yawn and a stretch Rosheen made her way out of the barracks, and onto the training field. Today was another good day, she could already feel it. She woke up with the first light of the sun in her eyes, and had stumbled down to find the mess hall almost deserted, just the way she liked it. Then when she left the building, she found that the track was also practically deserted, another thing she liked very well first thing in the morning. With a smile on her face, Rosheen started on the track, eager to get some miles in before meeting with her newest trainee.

 

Her feet carried her forward in a steady pace. She had done this since she first came to the yards, and in the years before it as well. Running required no thought, no effort other than putting one foot in front of the other. It gave her room to think of other things, such as Dovean. The girl obviously had no idea what she was getting herself into, but that was fine. The Tower did not require it’s trainees to be skilled before they entered the yards. It merely required that that gained skill as they stayed there. As it was, Rosheen had seen a dedication in the woman’s eyes that mirrored her own when she first entered the yards. Some people were destined for greatness, and others… would merely plod along and do well, though not well enough to be remembered. She would see which of these goals suited Dovean better as she trained her.

 

As she turned into her sixth lap, she saw the trainee she had been pondering on exit the barracks, and wander over to the armory. Early, which was good. Perhaps this time she would actually have a punctual trainee. Trusting the blacksmiths to keep her trainee from stabbing herself in the foot a little longer, Rosheen upped her pace a little, determined to finish at least three more laps before Dovean got impatient.

 

When she finally arrived at the armory she got a grin from the master blacksmith. “The youngin’ is already inside, ogling the sharp and pointy stuff.” Rosheen grinned back at the giant man. “I’d hope so. She would look pretty ridiculous with a mace.” Getting a laugh from the blacksmith, Rosheen entered the building, catching Dovean in the act of dropping a javelin. “Careful with that. Getting a javelin stuck in your foot is pretty uncomfortable, if you ask me.”

 

She wandered over to the side and took a seat. “I take it you’ve looked around a bit already? Good. Feel free to look more. If you have any questions about any of the weapons you see here, let me know. You can choose up to three weapons, but if you decide to choose less that’s fine with me as well.” Rosheen glanced over at the spears and the naginata’s, her own preferred weapons. “Choose a weapon that suits your body. Don’t pick a warhammer if you’re not going to be able to lift it, and don’t pick a longbow that you won’t be able to handle. Just wander around, pick things up, feel the weight in your hand. You will discover a weapon that suits you soon enough.”

 

~Rosheen Tahn Sakhr

 

ooc: http://www.aliciawilkerson.com/warders/?page_id=30 this is where you can find some of the available weaponry. Have fun :D

 

[Moseley]

“Careful with that. Getting a javelin stuck in your foot is pretty uncomfortable, if you ask me.” Dovaen whirled around and saw her mentor standing in the doorway. Rosheen's sense of humor seemed morbid, but Dovaen supposed that when one was surrounded by weapons and fighting one's entire life, one found humor in such things. Her mentor's joke forced only the smallest smile out of her.

 

“I take it you’ve looked around a bit already?" Dovaen nodded. "Good. Feel free to look more. If you have any questions about any of the weapons you see here, let me know. You can choose up to three weapons, but if you decide to choose less that’s fine with me as well.” At the mention of three weapons, she perked up slightly, and raised her eyebrows. She went back to pick up the first sword she had touched, picking it up, she turned toward Rosheen.

 

"What is sword called?" She already knew it was a viking sword, but for some reason she felt like being testy. Before wating for a reply, her eyes lit on a long dagger that she had never seen before. This weapon called to her, and she picked it up. That left Dovaen with one more weapon to choose. On her left was a halberd with back-spike and a butt-spike, looking truculent and belligerent. On her right was a longbow, sleek and devious. 

 

“Choose a weapon that suits your body. Don’t pick a warhammer if you’re not going to be able to lift it, and don’t pick a longbow that you won’t be able to handle. Just wander around, pick things up, feel the weight in your hand. You will discover a weapon that suits you soon enough.” At the mention of 'longbow', Dovaen knew that this was to be her third and final weapon.

 

Stony and calm, she walked towards her mentor and said: "Rosheen, I am ready."

[silhouette]

Of course the girl went straight for the biggest, meanest weapon that she thought she’d be able to carry. It was only natural. Had Rosheen not been drawn to the size and weight of the naginata, just as much as by the stories of how fast and agile it was? Still, she hoped that one day her trainees would choose weapons that would suit their body type without forcing them to train hours and hours on end to increase their strength first. Then again, she supposed that was part of the appeal of the weapon. And no one had ever died from a bit of exercise. At least, no one she knew ever had.

 

“A Viking sword, a longbow and a long dagger. You now have something for long range, middle range and short range battle. With some luck I’ll be able to teach you how to use all three of them.” She said, smiling at the girl. So far Dovean hadn’t exactly warmed to her. It could have bothered Rosheen, if she hadn’t been utterly aware of how further Dovean’s attitude would cool before the day was over. First days were never easy. In fact, they were almost as hard as first weeks. They had to weed out the weak ones early on, and those who lasted a week were quite likely to last a month. Those who lasted a month were likely to last a year. Those who lasted a year often went on to become Tower Guards and Warders.

 

“But before we get to using these weapons, I’m going to teach you how to use the weapon the Creator gave you. If your body is in bad shape your enemies will take you down, no matter how skilled you are at wielding any of these. Leave your weapons with the blacksmith. He’ll inspect them once more to see if they’re fit for use. Once we’re done training today, you can come pick them up. That’s when he’ll instruct you on how to take care of them. If I find out you’re not taking good care of them you’ll have to suffer the consequences.” It took very little effort to sound menacing at that.

 

“Let’s get to your training.” Rosheen walked out of the armory and lead her trainee to the tracks surrounding the main part of the yards. “First we’ll see how fast you can run.” Without waiting for an answer from Dovean, Rosheen set off in a pace comfortable for her. If it was too fast for the girl, she would know soon enough. Most trainees caught up before she was halfway down the track. She hoped Dovean would do better.

 

~Rosheen Tahn Sakhr

 

ooc: Just write Dovean running around the track with Rosheen. Run as far as your trainee can go, and then have Rosheen make her run half a lap on top of that.

 

[Moseley]

No expression of surprise on Rosheen's at the weapons Dovaen had chosen seemed ominous. The lack of concern could be taken that her mentor thought her weak, or that she thought Dovaen was capable of using the weapons. Growing up in a court, she had learned to read nobles' body language, and could tell how most nobles were feeling at any given time. But warriors, especially Warders, were different. Often they displayed contradicting body language or none at all. Simply neutral. I will figure them out. She thought confidently.

 

Rosheen proceeded out to the track and after a few words, took off unexpectedly. She did not want to fall behind her mentor, and sprinted toward her. The woman kept a quick pace and was pushing Dovaen. Though she had trained a little with her brother, they had not run much together. After two times around the track, Dovaen was breathing more heavily than she had ever done before. But she must not show her weakness to her mentor. She thought she caught Rosheen glancing over at her to check her progress, but it could have been a trick of the sunlight. She fell a little behind Rosheen, but forced herself around the track once more. I...will not be... She shouted "WEAK!"

 

Rosheen turned around and raised her eyebrows. In those eyes she saw a challenge, and Dovaen summoned up...something deep inside her to keep going. I am free now! I will not...submit! Rosheen looked almost comfortable, and Dovaen's rage and jealously pushed her further. The two had run merely half way around the track when Dovaen's legs gave out. She collapsed, and heaved a huge breath, then retched and vomited. 

[silhouette]

It was fairly clear from the first few yards that Dovean had a hard time keeping up with her. That was fine though. Rosheen had been doing this for over two decades, after all. The girl would improve, if she could just hang in there. She had fire in her too, refusing to give up early on, fighting an unfair competition against her mentor instead. As Rosheen ran in front of her, she allowed herself to smile. Yes, this one would work out just fine, in time.

 

It became clear that Dovean struggled more and more after two laps around the track, but she spurred herself on with a fierce battle cry. Well, shouting ‘Weak’ at yourself wasn’t really much of a cry, but they would get to that later on. Half a lap further her trainee collapsed, sick with exhaustion. Rosheen left her on the side of the track for a moment as she ran to fetch a bucket of water. This wasn’t the first time a trainee had pushed herself too far on a first day, and it wouldn’t be the last one either. “There, drink some of that and wash your face. Take your time, we have nothing to do besides training today.”

 

Whether the girl expected her to react badly about her collapsing or not Rosheen would never know. At times trainees could be amazed to find out that their mentors were not out to destroy them, even if it seemed like that at times. “Don’t worry.” She said, offering Dovean some reassurance. “You’ll improve. You have the will to improve, which means that soon enough you’ll get your body to listen to your demands.”

 

After a few more minutes she helped her trainee to her feet, and wandered over to the enxt exercise. A balance exercise, and one of Rosheen’s favourites. A narrow twenty feet pole was suspended a foot in the air. “Alright, I want you to get up there and walk to the other side, while not getting distracted by what I do. I want you to make it across and back five times without falling.” As soon as Dovean got up on the pole, Rosheen picked up a staff. With a fierce swing she brought it down right in front of where Dovean was standing, giving the pole a firm shake. “Move!” she shouted, hitting the pole again and again as Dovean tried to complete the exercise.

 

~Rosheen Tahn Sakhr

 

ooc: same as before, just complete the exercise. Be as good at it as you feel your character would be ;)

 

[Moseley]

The cool water felt wonderful on her face, though Dovaen's stomach was too tender to handle anything. Though Rosheen had pushed her, she felt no anger toward her mentor. She still felt a deep sense of shame that she was weak, and that she had only managed to make it around the track three times before stopping. As if she could read her mind, Rosheen comforted her. “You’ll improve. You have the will to improve, which means that soon enough you’ll get your body to listen to your demands.”

 

After a few more minutes of blissful rest, they continued with a different exercise. They approached a narrow pole, and Dovaen was instructed to walk across it without being distracted by her mentor's movements. This did not appear to be complicated, so Dovaen began moving across. Suddenly, Rosheen turned back toward the pole and swung at it with a staff. She jumped back, and nearly fell off the pole. Well that was unexpected. Dovaen thought dryly. "Move!" Rosheen shouted at her, though there was no anger in her voice.

 

From the little Dovaen knew of her mentor, she gathered that she would not hit her directly. So all she would have to do is maintain composure and balance, and walk across the beam. Another hit against the pole brought her back to the present. She took slow, measured steps and maintained her focus on the far end of the pole. As she approached the end of the plank, Rohseen's hitting became more and more fierce, and also closer to Dovaen. One she even felt it brush against her tunic. I must reach the end of this task. I will not fail.

 

Rohseen's attacks seemed to be coming every second now. Dovaen saw that only a few paces remained. Thwhump! Dovaen launched herself toward the end of the pole, and landed folded nearly in two, like she was her tunic being hung to dry.

 

 

[silhouette]

None of the trainees Rosheen has worked with so far passed the balance test with as much ease as Dovean. It brought a smile on Rosheen’s face. Perhaps this one would be a true balance disciple, more than  Nerome or Moridin had been. Perhaps she would be able to shape Dovean into a mistress of misdirection, the way she had always aimed to do with every student that ever trained under her. Perhaps…

 

“Clearly some aptitude for this kind of training, I see.” She said, smiling at her trainee who had just stepped off the beam. There was a hint of pride in the way she stood now, something that had seemed missing after the endurance trial. That was good. As long as she kept believing that she could improve, and could become a Tower Guard or Warder, she would be one step ahead of most of the other trainees.

 

“Very well, it’s time for your final exercise of the day.” Rosheen almost rubbed her hands together in malicious glee. It had been decades since her own mentor had forced her to go through this exercise, and if she tried she could still remember the complete exhaustion she had felt afterwards. She had felt like she would never be able to raise her arms again. Of course Raisa had insisted on her doing the exercise again the day after that, and the day after that. Day after day, until the strength in her arms had increased to the point where she could wield a sword with some power behind it.

 

She guided Dovean over to a secluded part of the yards. Twenty bags filled with sand were standing at the foot of one pole. Rosheen stopped at another pole, quite a distance away from it. “You’re going to run over there, or walk over there, whichever suits you. You’re going to carry those bags over to this pole. Walk back again, and repeat the exercise until each and every one of those bags is here.”

 

Ooc: same as before, complete the exercise. Just keep in mind that the bags are heavy ;) also, when the 20 bags are at the pole near Rosheen, she’s going to tell Dovean she has to return each and every one of them. She’s cruel like that ;)

 

[Moseley]

Though unorthodox, Dovaen passed this test. Maybe there was some hope for her after all. “Clearly some aptitude for this kind of training, I see,” Rosheen came as close to a compliment as she thought a teacher would. But it wasn't over yet. “Very well, it’s time for your final exercise of the day.” Her mentor guided her to a part of the training yard tucked away behind bushes and such, and stood at one pole, facing another.

 

“You’re going to run over there, or walk over there, whichever suits you. You’re going to carry those bags over to this pole. Walk back again, and repeat the exercise until each and every one of those bags is here.” However high Dovaen's spirit had been before, it sunk lower than after retching on the track. There were twenty bags full of sand, and Dovaen knew that there was something more Rosheen was not telling her. Still weak from the run, Dovaen decided to walk to the opposite pole. She squatted down to pick it up, and scarcely carried it three paces before she had to set it down. There must be a trick to this... she thought desperately as she lugged the bag toward the other pole. She returned, walking, to the pole surrounded by sandbags. Again she squatted, but this time, she hauled the bag over her shoulder on her back, and she could use her leg muscles that way. She walked slowly back to the pole near the sandbags, resting as much as she could. Seventeen more times, she hauled the bag over her shoulder, though after ten times she had to rest half-way through, and a few times after that she walked so slowly back to the pole that Rosheen yelled "Move!" at her. At last, triumphant, exhausted, and sweaty, Dovaen set down the last of the twenty bags.

 

"Now move them back." Dovaen was floored. She had to ask Rosheen to repeat what she had said to verify the awful truth: she must bring them back to their starting place. Every cell in her body resisted, but a grim, determined spirit of Dovaen dragged them across the grass. Her arms gave out after ten bags, and she stopped half-way through when Rosheen's harsh command forced her to continue. The sun was well past High and every sandbag was taking longer. After seventeen, she begged with Rosheen to stop. Her mentor resolutely shook her head, and something deep inside her pushed the sandbag to the other pole. Her arms felt like lead, another weight she would have to carry. Her hands trembled with hunger and exhaustion, and a half-delirious Dovaen fell over on twenty piles of sand, hungry, soaked in sweat, enervated and thirsty. She no longer had the will to sense the things lying on her side she once knew as arms, or the will to care about her bloody mentor, or even the task she had accomplished.