First post! Go me!

[Sam]

His teeth flashed white in the gloaming. His menacing steed pawed at the earth. Restless. Dangerous. Dust sprayed like sea foam into the air. Nostrils flared. Muscles rippled. Eyes shone bright with a fierce inner fire. He was Braxton, mightiest of the mightier. He rode upon his magnificent beast--Holier Than Thou--and his voice rang out clear into the breeze: rather discordant and without harmony.

 

"My true love was a--"

 

"--Eeehoooore."

 

"Port of call--"

 

"Hooooore."

 

"All hands on--"

 

"--Ehoooooorehehooore."

 

"Oh stop it, would you?"

 

Braxton sighed; closed his eyes, made a wish, opened his eyes, sighed. Repeated steps one through four several times. There was a groan, scattered curses; a loud braying noise. Braxton's mouth formed a tight... unbending line. He leaned over in the saddle: a fluid manoeuvre with violence aforethought.

 

"I hate you," he declared evenly, "when we reach Tar Valon I'm going to eat you. No. No. Wait. I'm going to have a party; invite all of my friends. We are *all* going to eat you."

 

The donkey protested with a loud bray. Braxton smiled and patted a flank reassuringly.

 

"Come now, little sister, you know I jest. It's just that I wanted to make an entrance," a loud braying noise was his only reply," yes! You are indeed magnificent my dear and I am certain to be a princely sight upon *your back*." His mouth broke into a wry smile. "But come. Let us continue our grand adventure. To Tar Valon!"

 

***

 

Braxton's mother, in an effort to divert any urge to follow in his father's footsteps, had exposed her son to the "arts." This was of course no obstacle for a shrewd grandfather, who occasionally allowed a simple military discourse, or novella find its way into Braxton's room. Like most boys he began to crave the one thing he couldn't have and it only sharpened the edge of his desire. It also imbued him with a rather unusual speech pattern and vocabulary. In short: he spoke funny.

 

The next morning saw the two travellers plodding down the dirt road leading to Tar Valon. The tower rose in the distance, a beacon of hope, prosperity and future dreams. Braxton was too busy enjoying the lazy breeze whipping about his face. Too busy in his carefree suspension as he was, the tower was not the only object of significance that he missed.

 

The impact met with a gasping retort as Braxton was sent tumbling out of the saddle and tried to cajole oxygen back into his lungs. He landed heavily. Bearing the weight of whatever it was he had collided with. The donkey trotted a dozen or so yards away, eyeing the scene with distaste. Braxton flailed out with his elbows, knees, forehead and fists. Attempting to connect with whatever he could to unseat this unwelcome burden. There was a dull thud, a grunt, and the weight relented to a degree, which allowed Braxton to roll free find his legs. His heart raced, his pulse felt keenly throughout his body. Gulping in air, he looked at his adversary a look of incredulity upon playing across his face.

 

The man looked to be middle aged: wizened, stooped and filthy. His teeth were sputum yellow. Matted black hair infested with dirt and grime. His cheeks were sunken and hollow. His eyes strained. He wore torn slacks and a tunic, their original colour undiscernable. To have accosted Braxton dressed only in simple peasants clothing marked him as desperate indeed.

 

The man stepped forward and Braxton reacted on pure instinct. His hand moved of its own accord toward his lower back and before he could stop himself his hand whipped forward, the fall of his whip following close behind. There was a muted crack and the man clutched his hand in pain. His look of shock mirrored Braxton's own and there was a brief moment of irreality, both men staring at each other dumbfounded. Braxton found his voice first.

 

"Come no closer, sir! Or you shall receive another!" To accentuate his point, his whip flowed in constant motion, an almost hypnotic serpentine motion. He was again caught by surprise as his opponent rushed at him, barreling into his chest before he was unable to make good on his threat. While years farming had given him the skill necessary to hit a target fair, these were far from favourable circumstances and his attempt coiled the rope around his legs, tripping him over.

 

Once again the pair tumbled in the dirt, this time Braxton able to grasp the bandit's hands and hold him at bay. Not a serviceable weapon between them. It was down to sheer determination and muscle. Braxton appeared the larger, more powerful combatant but the desiccated form belied definite strength. Finding himself unable to grasp any advantages at this point, he was content to hold the man off with his upper body and twist madly with his hips and legs, hoping to shift the balance and gain momentum.

 

Braxton's forearms and palms were slick with sweat by the time he managed to roll his opponent over and gain the advantage, a grunt testifying to the effort. Pinning the man's wrists to the ground he breathed a sigh of relief, only to find himself instantly back on the defensive: his back and shoulders once more touching dry earth.

 

"You've done this before, haven't you?" Braxton asked; a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "It's customary to at least buy me a drink first." His comment was met only with a growl, a scowl and (for lack of anything else that rhymes with scowl), a more determined enemy. Braxton, even for the gravity of this current predicament, could not suppress a laugh at his own humour.

 

Fifteen minutes later the two were still locked in their embrace. By now both were exhausted, having rolled over a dozen or so times and grim determination was all that kept them fighting. Every part of Braxton's body was either benumbed by fatigue or inflamed by welts, cuffs and bruises. The reality of wrestling with someone in the dirt was not nearly as entertaining as it was portrayed in the books.

 

"Look," he spoke between deep, laboured breaths, "This is getting us no where. I'll make you a deal. Walk with me until Tar Valon, allow me to retrieve my meager belongings and you may have my donkey to keep or sell, whichever you prefer?" The other man loosened his grip and Braxton sighed with relief. He rolled out from under the other man who was now resting on his knees. He crawled to his feet and started toward a tree. "Now, let us toast to our newfound friendship!" Grinning cheerfully he reached into a pocket in his tunic, and took a long sip from a flask. The bandit, of course, replied with a toast of his own. The braying of a donkey and the sound of hooves hitting dirt as he made off with Braxton's donkey!

 

"Well... that was unexpected," he muttered to himself. Shrugging his shoulders and with no recourse, he began to walk steadily toward the distant Tar Valon.

 

***

 

Tar Valon was fully in the grip of darkness by the time a weary, parched and famished Braxton found his way into a tavern, his path illumed by many blazing torches that limed the streets. While the walk was unpleasant, the city had not assaulted his delicate country senses during the night as it would have during the day. As it was, he still found himself feeling very alone and incredibly small. Having enough coin for several days lodging, food and other sundries he was more than happy to order himself a large meal, an even larger mug of ale and a comfortable bed.

 

Braxton did not wake until just after midday, bleary eyed and sore in places he didn't even know he had. Climbing gingerly from his bed and down the stairs, he forewent breakfast or lunch and instead made his way toward the inner walls where his future awaited. Doing his best not ignore his surroundings until his mind could properly digest the information he found himself, at last, in the training grounds of the Tower Guard.

[Wayfarer]

The day had been a particularly good one thusfar, or so Aran felt. He had slept in, he had spent the entire morning in the mess hall, still reasonably drunk, and by lunch he had sobered up without any ill effects to call his own. The same could not be said of those who sat with him at lunch, but he who lived by the bottle… Well, they didn’t die, but some wished they had come sobriety.

 

Still, as he sauntered out of the mess hall with his usual jauntiness, something was amiss. A young lad who looked utterly lost, and at the same time he saw this, he saw Ginae with her back turned to them both about fifty yards away. In an almost epileptic fit of inspiration, Aran started forward towards the young lad with an idea in mind. It’d all depend on how gullible the young lad was, not to mention sure of himself, but anything was possible if one moved fast and talked faster.

 

Clapping the boy on the shoulder with a friendly grin, Aran would have passed for trustworthy as he spoke. “Hey there, you wouldn’t happen to be new here would you? Excellent! Its always good to have new people here to become Tower Guard. Good on you, its always an honour to meet someone new.â€

 

Leaning in a little closer, he whispered conspiratorially. “Of course, it does take at least two years to become a Tower Guard. For average people that is, but in you I see a certain something. I’m going to let you in on a tradition. You see, the Mistress of Trainees has a running bet so to speak, and if you win it, you don’t have to be a trainee under her.â€

 

Pointing over to where Ginae was, Aran was sincere enough to convince the Amyrlin he was an upstanding man as he spoke. “If you can slap her on the arse, and make it from her to those posts over there, she will pass you as a trainee automatically. It sounds odd I know, but look, she has blue hair. The question is, do you want to sweat for two years doing chores, or do you want that crimson cloak now? You have it in you I think, but the question is, do you? I’ll be watching from over there.â€

 

Clapping the man on the shoulder again, Aran made his way into Ginae’s line of vision over to Buzz and Nera, both of whom were still suffering from the night before. Laughing at them even as he was aware that Ginae was watching him now, he chatted away, waiting for the inevitable to happen. The lad was so gullible! Clearly a mudfoot, or more likely, a sheepherder.

 

 

Aran

Tower Guard

[Sam]

Do I? Delusions of greatness flushed his face a bright red as he pondered. Exultation flashed through his irises as he conjured wild fantasies the future that was certain to unfurl. His mother would be proud. More importantly his Grandfather would be proud. They would hold banquets in his honour. Children would throw rose petals as he past. Girls of a marrigeable age would swoon as his hands brushed across their outstretched fingers. Likely they would give him his own kindom...

 

Those thoughts firmly entrenched in the vanguard of his mind, Braxton the farmer went forth to do battle. He rolled: he ducked; he crawled. All in an obscene effort to incorporate some measure of stealth and reach the target unannounced. It all seemed ridiculously easy. A Tower Guard after just one day!

 

Seeing that the mark was occupied with watching the kind older gentlemen suspiciously, Braxton closed the last dozen or so yards with a mad dash. All so easy. All so easy! His hand connected with a loud crack--much like a whip. Come to think of it--he heard a sharp intake of breath and his face lit up with triumph.

 

One exhilerating sprint to a post later, Braxton leaned against said post to catch his breath, offering the kind older gentleman a thumb's up gesture. There was a strange noise and Braxton got the began to feel as though the world had--like a wildfire--become as silent as an underground masoleum, on the side of a very secluded mountain, deep within a very barren landscape. His last coherent thought for many, many moments was a question over whether or not it was going to rain...

[silhouette]

“I’m telling you Ralleigh, the girl doesn’t mean bad, she’s just not used to having such a strict Captain.†The look on his face only darkened more, and Ginae was about ready to give up. There was no way Ralleigh would become reasonable in this matter. She blocked out the sound of his voice as he launched into another rant about the completely lack of useful qualities that Lyv Tylin possessed. She nodded and shook her head in tune with the changing of his voice, her eyes wandering over the yards until they landed on a familiar unpleasant sight. Her lips curled into a snarl. “I see you agree.†Ralleigh said. “Huh? Oh, yeah… right. Of course I do.†She said, smiling at the man she’d known for twenty years now. Ralleigh turned to look at the person that made her snarl. “I’m sure you do.†He stated, rolling his eyes at her. “Don’t you start with me, mister, you were just ranting about Lyv Tylin, so don’t blame me if I happen to like glaring at that… that… Aran.â€

 

Her eyes narrowed even further until Ralleigh threw up his hands in defeat. “Fine, fine… I won’t bother you with it again. Maybe I’ll ask Vasya if he wants to have her in his team.†Ginae shook her head. “Not bloody like†Crack! It was the sound that shocked her, far more than the stinging feeling in her backside. Her eyes widened significantly even as she turned to watch a young man run away from her. No more than a boy, really. Next to her Ralleigh was just as wide eyed, at least until he started laughing. Ginae gave him a shove, sending him sprawling before rushing after the boy. Who was just standing there. “Boy slaps the Mistress of Trainees on her arse and just stands there?!†she ranted. It really didn’t look as though he was going anywhere. Well, that suited her just fine.

 

When she reached him she gave him a similar shove as she had Ralleigh. He went to the ground with a displeased squeak. His attempt to roll over was stopped by the pressure of Ginae’s knee on his back. With a yank she took hold of his right hand, twisting it behind his back roughly. “You have five seconds to explain what the hell you thought you were doing young man.†She hissed. There was no response yet, aside from a pained whimper. Ginae twisted his arm a little harder. “Five… Four… Three… Two…†was all it took before the young man, Braxton, wanting to become a Tower Guard because his father and grandfather were Tower Guards, told her exactly why slapping her arse had seemed like a good idea. Ginae let go of his arm and rose. “Right then. Report to my office, I’ll get you signed up. There are no short cuts to becoming a Tower Guard. Keep that in mind the next time someone suggest something like it. And do us all a favour, when someone does… kick that person in the groin.â€

 

With that said, Ginae turned, glaring murder at the man who had once again sought to humiliate her in front of everyone. Sitting there, or rather rolling on the ground a short distance from where she first spotted him was Aran, laughing himself silly. “I’m going to kill that runt no matter what Vasya says.†She growled, stalking towards him.

 

~Ginae Auvriani

Mistress of Trainees

[Wayfarer]

Telling Buzz and Nera to not look straight away, he told them about what he'd set in motion. As they kept up their conversation, they watched as the young sheepherder made his way to the trainee, ducking, rolling, Aran wondered what sort of upbringing the child had had. More importantly, he tried to contain himself, he didn't want to give away to Ginae that anything was about to happen. This was far too good to spo-

 

CRACK!

 

The look on her face, Aran couldn't contain himself as he began laughing, as did Buzz and Nera. Even Ralleigh was laughing who was then put to the ground in a moment. It was when the young lad was taken to ground that Aran fell to his kness and began rolling about laughing. Tears were streaming out of his eyes as he pounded earth with his hands. Not only had the boy done it, but he'd probably left a handprint he'd smacked her so hard. It was a wonder she hadn't killed him yet.

 

A fresh wave of laughter took him just as he was beginning to get his breath back when Ginae stood and turned towards him. He couldn't blame the lad for spilling, in fact, it was great that he had so Ginae knew exactly who had done it. And since the lad wasn't a trainee yet, he couldn't get in trouble for it. So blurred was his vision from the tears and so consumed by the hilarity of the situation, he could barely see. He couldn't even breath, he was going to be killed by his own sense of humour!

 

 

Aran

Tower Guard

[silhouette]

A slow burning anger slowly grew within Ginae, coming awfully close to an all out rage. How dare that little weasel mock her like this in the middle of the yards. Even as she stalked towards him she could see people laughing. They’d get what they deserved sooner or later, right now she was stalking towards Aran, prepared to make sure that he would never pull a stunt like that again. The closer she came to him, the more she despised him. He was rolling on the ground now, clutching his stomach and laughing like a mad horse. Tears were streaming down his face. He was over exaggerating things a bit, if you asked Ginae.

 

When she reached him, she didn’t waste time trying to talk to him the way she usually did. She’d warned him the last time he pranked her, and that had to be enough. So without further ado she planted her foot against his shoulder, giving him a hard shove. That caused him to place his hands on the ground to balance himself a bit. When he looked up at her he was still laughing. Ginae grinned at him before lifting her foot and bringing it down on his hand. Hard. Harder than she had intended at first. She was quite sure she could hear a few of the little bones in his hand crack. She twisted her foot slightly, unsettling the bones just a bit more. She glanced at Aran’s face coolly. “Don’t mess with me, Aran. It’ll only hurt you more in the end.†She said, her voice calm once more.

 

Moments later she found herself standing in front of her office, next to an anxious looking young man. “Don’t worry, I won’t bite.†She said, opening the door to her office, and walking inside, giving Braxton a look that could only mean ‘Come in or there will be pain.’ Ginae closed her eyes for a moment, rubbing at her temples. The things she went through just to make sure boys and girls were ready to fight when Tarmon Gaidon came. “Right then…†she muttered, taking a leather-bound book from one of the shelves behind her. “I’ll need your full name, age and place of birth.†She glanced up at Braxton. “Yes, you get to stay even if you’ve managed to get fooled by Aran on your first day here. Now sit, and tell me something about yourself.â€

 

~Ginae Auvriani

MoT

[Sam]

Braxton's eyes darted from left to right while his fingers twitched in obvious nervousness. He could already feel his grandfather's cane upon his back and the sheer realism in the thought caused his back muscles to spasm; the rest of him to cringe. This was not how he had pictured his first day. The fantastical construct of his glorious homecoming dimished as his feet shifted underneath him.

 

So Aran was his name. The only lies Braxton had ever heard in his sheltered life came from the many tales he learned as a child. Already in his mind's eye Aran was rendered into a dark and shadowy figure, flames leaping from his mouth and mocking, clawed hands snatching at everything virtuous in life. Braxton almost chuckled aloud when his nightmare Aran collapsed into laughter, rolling about on the ground and inadvertantly lighting grass on fire.

 

The questions posed were rather difficult. There were answers. For certain. Only Braxton seemed to always have been too busy to ponder these questions or seek out their answers. He said as much, too, after a long awkward silence while he attempted to find his voice for the embarrassment.

 

"My name is Braxton. It is possible that there is more to it but I've never bothered to find out. Far too busy working. I am eighteen summers... I think, I also live a few days ride in that direction. On a farm. Where I err... farm... or at least did. It has taken me a long time to get here; I wasn't looking forward to leaving so soon.

 

"Tell you about myself? There in't really much to tell. I fix fences, dig ditches and cart water; have done since as long as far back as I can remember and don't recall doing anything else. I suppose I do like to read."

[silhouette]

Ginae folded her hands in front of her on the desk, eying Braxton as if she saw him for the first time. It really wasn’t fait to the boy that she took her anger out on him. After all, the only thing the boy had done wrong was… well… be stupid. And it was probably more naivety than actual stupidity. Not everyone grew up in the cities or the borderlands. She had to keep that in mind more often. Still, Braxton’s story amazed her a little. She’d heard of people leading sheltered lives, but for the boy to not know his own last name, or the name of the country he lived in. Ginae rubbed her temples again, fighting of a steadily forming headache.

 

She glanced in the direction Braxton had waved, guessing the distance the boy could have walked on one day, then adding an extra ‘it took me a long time’ bonus, because he didn’t look all that fast. “Hrrm. Near Tar Valon it is.†She scribbled it down in the book, as well as his name and his age. When she was done she closed the book and smiled at Braxton. For the first time. Ginae always made a habit out of smiling at her trainees, because that made them less eager to be a pain in the backside. As she rose from her seat said backside twinged a little. She winced. “Digging ditches and carting water, eh? Well, I’m sure your mentor will be pleased to find out that you have some strength in your arms.â€

 

As she walked around her desk Braxton flinched, trying to inch away from her. “I already said I’m not going to bite you. In fact, if you behave from now on, and follow the rules we’ve set out here, you’ll hardly see at all. Of course, if you do break the rules, I might have to get angry with you. You don’t want that, right?†She opened the door, letting Braxton escape. “I didn’t think so. Let’s get you a mentor, shall we?†she looked around the yards, trying to locate the woman she had in mind. No one could stay naive long under her special training.

 

“Deneira!†she called out to the freshly promoted Tower Guard who was just walking towards the barracks. She put her hand on Braxton’s shoulder and guided him over to the brunette. “Dene, I have a mentee for you. This is Braxton. He’s just arrived. Make sure he gets training gear and a room, ok?†before Deneira could answer, Ginae was already on her way back to the office. That was the best way to get people to take on trainees. Surprise them with it, and be out of sight before they can object.

 

~Ginae Auvriani

MoT

[Christine]

Light, what a day. She was half worn out, and she had only been up for near an hour. She had certainly slept late… very late, and considering the fact she was normally up before dawn had put her into a grumpy mood. Light, she wasn’t even in bed until AFTER dawn. What had happened again? All she remembered was a dance, a lot of drinking, and a man that thought he could handle her. Honestly, men treated her like a prize to be won. she was no trophy, and she would never just sit on a man’s mantle and be the beauty he would show off. No man could control her like that.

 

Light, her head ached. Her whole body did, of course, but she was so hungover, and she was still trying to clear her eyes. She stumbled out, running around the yard. She hadn’t done that for very long, then knew she had forgotton something… her sword. Light, she hated this new thing. A shortsword… but she had been told to learn another weapon, and so she was. Her scimitar was at her hip, as she was used to… it had always been what she had had, a gift from her deceased father, and she was so used to only using that weapon, that this new thing that she barely ever used was almost a disgrace. She knew that eventually she would be used to it, and one day thank those that told her to learn the thing, but she still missed her scimitar.

 

Her feet began leading her back to her room, where she had left the blasted weapon. The yard was bustling, and she could see trainees and guards alike training hard. She wished that sometimes, she could remember her purpose here in Tar Valon, but she was too set in her drinking ways to ever really change. Even Ginae was out and about this day… with a trainee behind her. Deneira’s feet quickly moved away from the woman. She knew she had done something wrong now, because the woman seemed to be heading towards her. Light, she didn’t even know the trainee! How could he claim she had done something to him? That had to be it…

 

â€Deneira!†CURSES! She knew it! How did she know that she was in trouble again? She wasn’t even a trainee, yet she spent more time in that office than all the other trainees put together. The trainee came along with, and slowly Deneira walked forward, waiting to hear what she had done this time. Had this boy been in the bar the night before? Light, she hoped not.

 

“Dene, I have a mentee for you. This is Braxton. He’s just arrived. Make sure he gets training gear and a room, ok?†Deneira’s mouth dropped wide open, and her eyes buldged. A MENTEE? Was the woman MAD? She tried to say something, but Ginae was gone, and she looked back at the boy who stared at her. “CURSES ON THAT WOMAN!†she exclaimed, tossing her hands in the air and turning away from the boy, hands on her hips. What kind of sad, cruel joke was this? There was NO WAY in the world she was going to mentor! She could hardly even train herself.

 

Turning back to the boy, she was still a little in shock, and turned back away, trying to form words. â€Hello!†Said the boy… Braxton, she thought was his name. Deneira just looked at him and shook her head. “No! No, no NO! I will not have a mentee! What joke is this?†But she didn’t see Ginae, and no one was laughing at her, telling of the joke. This was not happening. She shook in rage, then grabbed the boys shirt, dragging him after her. “Lets get you in a bloody room…â€

 

She dragged him to the Trainee barracks and burst in the door. Trainees stood in there, many of which she knew and/or slept with. And they knew she was mad. A few called out to her, but most just bowed to her as she passed. Of course they bowed to her… she was a legend, practically, in their naïve eyes. Entering a room, she pointed to a bed, which had no trunk near it, and no one in the bed. “There, take that one. You can find out who else is in this room later.â€

 

She turned away as the boy looked around, and almost left the room without him. “Well, come on, you heard Ginae, you need a weapon!†She started walking to the armory, and finally cooled down, before saying, “Welcome to the Warders Yard… tell me, what weapon do you plan to use?†She spoke through clinched teeth, knowing she would kill Ginae for this one… and who ever else stood in her way, too.

 

 

Deneira

Tower Guard

Completly Pissed