Enguard! Oi, you two.

[Sam]

Braxton hummed a war song as he strolled. Short sword and dagger sheathed; whip hidden firmly beneath his tunic. He felt good. Better than good. He felt great. His thick clumsy farmer’s body had slimmed; was becoming harder. It was one thing to cart water and mend fences, it was another to run until even the smallest of stomach contents could not avoid being expelled. Life as a Trainee was hard. No harder than his former life, just different and it would take some time before he was properly accustomed to those differences.

 

Quitting had yet to enter his head, there was always his grandfather and ever-threatening stave protectively corralling such thoughts. Progress had been slow and his mentor had a fiery temper but Braxton took it all in stride. This was the life he had longed for, for so many years. He was not going to begin complaining now. The sound of triumphant celebration played in the recesses of his mind.

 

Today, however, he was setting out to regain lost honour and defeat his nemesis, Aran, in mortal combat. Well, that was the plan. Braxton knew were Aran was currently to be located and was making steady progress toward that position. All the while he wrestled with a moral dilemma. Did he slap Aran with the glove before declaring a duel? Or did he just throw the glove?—Decisions, decisions. He had heard some rather alarming things about the man’s prowess with the drink; very little as to his abilities in battle and was loathe giving him even the slightest advantage.

 

Still. Reckoning was at hand! Especially now, as he had already reached the tree and his target whom lazed beneath it with no clue that his doom was almost upon him. Braxton scratched his chin contemplating which deliciously poetic line he would use to call his soon-to-be-opponent out. Frowning at the lack of response, he balled the glove up inside his fist and sent it hurtling toward Aran’s face.

 

“You Sir! I challenge you to a duel!â€

[Wayfarer]

Nestled in his tree, Faith, Aran loved napping his afternoons away so. Especially after a rather big night, and while he had woken up feeling great, it was still an excuse to catch a bit more sleep. People knew where to find him if they needed him, and he got to have a nice nap in the sun. People only disturbed him if there was something important, or amusing, to share. If it wasn't either of those, Aran wasn't interested.

 

So it was with disgust that Aran found himself rudely awoken by something stinging his face. Blinking, he looked up to find a familiar sight, the lad he'd used to get at Ginae. He'd had his hand broken for his effort, but in hindsight it was still funny, and later on he'd learnt the trainee's name was Braxton. It was of particular interest because Deneira was his mentor, and obviously she hadn't informed him of the dangers of disturbing Aran's naptime. Especially when he was still drunk.

 

"Don't you have something better to do? Go away." Taking the glove in one hand, he flicked it to the side and quite deliberately closed his eyes and ignored Braxton. He wanted to get back to sleep and if he was quick enough about it, he could shrug off what had just happened and happily doze off again.

 

 

Aran

Tower Guard

[Sam]

"I say, Man! Important business, this! What's wrong with you, you, you scallywag!" Braxton frowned. This is not how it worked in the stories there was no crowd, no atmosphere and no willing participant! This had definitely not been the expected response and he was pretty darn miffed. No. Not really.

 

Pacing backward and forth for a time he observed his surroundings and considered the next logical approach. He would throw rocks, but none were available. The most he could summon would be grass and he doubted he could sustain momentum enough to have them reach the sleeping Tower Guard.

 

"Sir? Sir! Excuse me sir. Wake up! You, you unprincipled child! Wake up, I say!" At his wit's end, Braxton jumped up and down crying oaths and imprecations like, "sour sow", and "inadequate milker."

 

For the briefest of brief moments Braxton considered giving up his quest for vindication but it was conincidentally at that moment when he spotted the salvager of the situation. A long branch, fallen not too far from the tree. Grinning, the young trainee scooped it up and started prodding Aran. Prod. Prod. Prod.

[Wayfarer]

Braxton's whinging was wearing on Aran initially, but it didn't take long to tune out from. He didn't know where the child came from, but clearly it was a settlement cut off from civilisation, common sense, and most likely populated by trollocs. That was to say, by half people with the other half being related to various forms of domestic animals. He spoke like a Gleeman telling a particularly boring tale, and he whined like a brat who needed to be disciplined with a stick, and prettied up with one as well. Thats what was needed. A behaviour modification stick.

 

"Ow! Stop it!" Irony, the child had now find a stick to poke him with. Moving his arms haphazardly to shoo the stick away, such attempts were not to find success. Grabbing the stick and tossing it aside was, but by then, Aran knew he was too awake to go back to sleep like he meant to. Blinking at the lad who was watching him expectantly with a smile of triumph, Aran decided he might as well have some fun with it.

 

"Alright, you have your duel. If you win your honour is restored, blah blah blah. If I win, you're doing my washing for me, and bringing breakfast to my room every morning for a week." The lad was confident, judging from the way he agreed so readily. Getting to his feet, Aran staggered a bit as he weaved about. As much as it was feigned it was genuine, he could have kept himself steady if he wanted to, he just knew he didn't need to was all.

 

"Alright sheepherder, lets see what you've got."

 

 

Aran

Tower Guard

[Sam]

Yes! Braxton lurched forward, short sword flying out of it's sheath wildly. The sword whistled shrilly, humming through the air with an insensate melody... only to miss. Braxton reversed the stroke, aiming true once again. Miss. Braxton cocked his head slightly to one side, then grasped his shortsword in the other hand, whipping out with the blade once more. Miss.

 

Aran did not seem alarmed in the least and that was perhaps the most infuriating aspect of this entire ordeal. He moved in a queer waving motion. Reminiscient of the ocean the young trainee had read about. It almost churned his stomach just watching.

 

"You're drunk, aren't you?" He cried in exhasperation, "take this seriously, would you!" Enunciating his words with a punctuating sword stroke that once again missed. This wasn't going nearly as well as Braxton had hoped. It was, in fact, going much, much worse.

 

The young trainee was quickly sweating. He had thrown every sword combination in his reportaire at the drunkard and his blade had whistled to a miss each and every time. It was as if the pickled fighter was aware of moves before he was! Switching the short sword to his right hand, Braxton unsheathed his dagger with his left. Hoping that two weapons would meet with better success--.

 

--Two weapons did not. The Tower Guard had yet to even defend himself, let alone offend.

 

"Stand still, will you!" He was, of course, totally caught off guard when the Tower Guard did stop. Dead in his tracks. Braxton squawked like a flustered parrot and fell backwards. Using his short sword as leverage he pulled himself to his feet. Holding up his finger in the universal, "one moment" sign, he bent double, sucking in huge amounts of air. He couldn't remember the last time he was so tired. His arms had grown in both proportions and weight, it seemed and he could barely lift them. His feet protested in rather gruff tones and began refusing to support his steps.

 

Out of tricks and out of energy, Braxton tried to think of something that would, while not turn the hopeless cause--yes. He realised by this point that there was no way in The Blight that he was going to be "victorious"--into victory, might at least redeem some small portion of his self-esteem.

 

The swift, fierce glint in his eyes stated blatantly that he had thought of something. With a not so practiced ease he threw his dagger at the tower guard, well off the mark and his hand disappeared behind his back, re-emerging with a dark, spiralling mass that slithered toward the Tower Guard like a rapidly uncoiling viper. The end of the thong; the fall and the cracker locked tight around Aran's feet. There was a brief lull as Braxton pulled hard on the whip and Aran's legs were ripped out from under him.

 

Braxton blinked a few times, mouth agape. He had not expected that to work.

[Wayfarer]

Sliding around the lad's attacks wasn't difficult, in fact it was laughably easy. All one had to do was move backward until the lad decided to charge then just move to one side. It was hard to fight someone who didn't fight back, which would seem a paradox to some but was actually quite easy to understand. It was one thing to strike something that resisted, another to strike something that never materialised.

 

Not that Aran was thinking this though. He was snickering for the most part as the lad tried to touch him with steel. That was never going to happen, the day a sheepherder scored him with steel was the day that Aran found a new line of work. He even stopped infront of the lad to make it easier and the lad just bounced off him onto the ground. Staggering back a few paces as the lad got to his feet, Aran grinned, until the lad dropped one of his blades and uncoiled something from from behind his back.

 

What?

 

"AAAAAGH!"

 

Holding his head where it had snapped back into the earth as he was pulled from his feet, Aran was no longer looking on in amusement. Reaching forward and ripping the whip from the startled trainee's hands, he uncoiled it from his feet even as he cursed.

 

"Thats it you little mudfoot!"

 

The chase only lasted a good thirty paces before Aran swung the whip and the butt of it connected with Braxton's foot midstride, knocking it behind the other leg and landing Sam on his face. Leaping on the lad even as he turned onto his back, Aran was livid as he shook the whip in Braxton's face.

 

"What on earth is this? You hit me with a bloody whip! Blood and bloody ashes you little runt!" It was at that point that Aran dragged the lad to his feet and spanking the lad with the butt of the whip, he dropped it and began putting his fists and feet to work. And knees. And elbows. Anything that could move.

 

 

Aran

Tower Guard

[Ellorian]

Kyrie ambled along, more intent on the pastry in her hand than anything else. It was some sort of cream filled something-or-other she had gotten from her mother when she popped into the kitchens to say hello after lunch. There was something about Almillia lately. She was in a terribly good mood and just a little bit distracted. It was almost as if she had found some new hobby of some sort that brought her great pleasure.

 

Another bite into the flaky shell squirted a bit of filling down the front of her shirt. Great, Kyrie thought, nothing says 'hardened warrior' like cream filling in one’s small clothes. Ambling on, she noticed Aran ahead, in a tree again. And probably asleep. She really didn’t know the man. They had only 'met' once when he had scared her senseless on her first day. Since then her only acquaintance with him had been his legend, not the man. And what was that? It appeared to be a boy…poking Aran? Oh, that wasn’t a good idea.

 

Kyrie watched the drama unfold, munching on her pastry. Aran hopped down from the tree. Uh oh. The boy drew his sword. Also not good. Kyrie moved closer for a better look. By the time she was within earshot, she had begun giggling. It looked as if the boy was blind and possibly had an inner ear problem. Not one blow had landed. As her mother liked to say, "even a blind deer finds an acorn sometimes." And the poor thing was clearly frustrated. Either that or he had selected the wrong warcry. "Stand still, will you!" just did not strike fear in her heart, though she could not speak for Aran. She popped the last bite of her pastry into her mouth just as things got really interesting.

 

A whip. Aran was down. Then he wasn’t. Running. Uh oh.

 

Kyrie took off towards the pair as fast as she could. Her long legs covered the distance quickly but not quickly enough, it would seem. The boy was taking a beating. She had to stop it, but how? She licked her lips in thought. Ooo, cream. But back to the matter at hand!

 

There was no way she could restrain Aran. And there was obviously going to be no talking to him. Unfortunately, her long legs allowed her no more time to think as she was upon the pair. Doing the only thing that came to mind, Kyrie launched herself at Aran, wraping her arms around him and knocking him away from the boy if only by sheer momentum and surprise. She landed with a grunt, right on top of him. Oh, this wasn't good. In her panic over what she'd done, she continued to clutch, her face dangerously close to Aran's. Kyrie closed her eyes tightly and called to the boy, "run while you can!" She licked her lips again, this time from nerves. Ooo, more cream. For a moment she wondered exactly how much had missed her shirt and stuck to her face. A silly thing to worry about when one was facing a terrible beating.

[Wayfarer]

There was a great deal of satisfaction to be had in hitting Braxton. While Aran was not given to usually striking infants with less common sense than an Aes Sedai, there were certain circumstances where there was pleasure to be had. Such as when aforesaid child was stupid enough to not only have tried to take steel to Aran, but then used a whip on Aran. While some people said violence solved nothing, the pain where his head had snapped back into the ground as he had been ripped off his feet had noticeably diminished. Wh-

 

Sky, ground, sky, ground, dark hair, familiar eyes that quickly shut. Very familiar lips. Disorientated, he realised he must have just woken up, though why the woman was here was beyond him. She never came around to visit, it was always visiting her. Which suited him just fine, because he preferred to keep what he could quiet. That and it was much easier to leave in the morning than kick a woman out he had found... Well, it wasn't any easier, but the chances of making a second night at some point were better when you didn't have to forcefully evict the woman. That and it did feel like it was a bit harsh to throw a woman out of the bed when you're sleeping in anyway.

 

"Hey Milly." Leaning up slightly and planting a light kiss on her, he grinned mischievously as her eyes flashed open. "Mmm, cream. So, why the surprise today? Did I leave something last night? I thought I picked up everything this morning."

 

 

Aran

Tower Guard

[Ellorian]

Kyrie braced herself for the worst and then...a kiss? Hmm, that was nice. Yes, nice. Wait! Her eyes snapped open.

 

"Hey Milly." A grin. "Mmm, cream. So, why the surprise today? Did I leave something last night? I thought I picked up everything this morning."

 

"WHATAREYOUDOING!!!" Her voice was shrill like a screeching howler monkey and her entire sentence ran together into one long word. Then the weight of what Aran had said hit her. Milly? Her mother? Last night? This morning? Kyrie gasped.

 

"WHATDIDYOUDOTOMYMOTHER?" Her voice was even higher this time. She had to think of something! She must punish this...this...this scoundrel! No telling what he had done! She licked her lips in thought. Ooo, more cream. Seriously, how much was on her face? Did any make it into her mouth? Wait! There were more important things at hand.

 

With her brilliant mind failing her, Kyrie did the only thing she could come up with: she bit him. Hard and right on the shoulder. Wait! She could do better than that! It was as if her first attack loosed a barrage of tactical possibilities!

 

Sitting up she began to slap at the small man without getting off of him. Let him feel the full weight of her fury!

 

"Cad!" Slap!

 

"Cur!" Slap!

 

"Mongrel!" Slap!

 

"Boor!" Slap!

 

Yes, this was going very well for Kyrie. She would have her mother's honor avenged in no time and then maybe she could go get another pastry. Maybe actually get some of this one into her mouth this time.

[Wayfarer]

"AAAAAAAAAGH! WHAT THE HELL? WHAT A-"

 

The first slap caught him solidly, right about the time what she said sunk in. It wasn't Milly at all who was now seated on his chest, knees pinning his arms down as she slapped him to a cadence of imprecations. It was her daughter, Kyrie, Elia's student. Light help him, of all the people he had to let slip to, it had to be the daughter. Not that all of this was being thought through in such a logical and refined manner.

 

In fact, it wasn't being thought of at all beyond the realisation. There was a more pressing matter that concerned Aran. Namely his face and the woman who was trying to give him a beauty treatment with a certain heavy handedness. Grabbing the back of her legs, he pulled her forward, pitching her off balance onto him, but getting rid of enough weight on his chest to allow him to roll them over.

 

Extricating himself with difficulty, he made sure he had hold of her legs so he didn't get a kick to his future children. He also kept hold so he could flip her over and as she got on her knees to get up, Aran unleashed the fury.

 

A single hand soaring down from on high.

 

SMACK!

 

From the sound of it and her cry, she was definitely going to find a handprint on her backside later.

 

"Now settle down, your mother's a free woman, and she just happens to be very free alright?" I could have said that better.

 

 

Aran

Tower Guard

[Ellorian]

If the smack hadn't gotten her riled up, Aran's comment sure did. Free? He will die. Thats all there is to it, he must die and do so slowly!

 

Kyrie charged Aran, trying to bring her knee to his groin only he was so short it actually contacted with his midsection causing him to double over. It must have been entirely the element of surprise and quite a bit of luck for her to hit him at all. Then agian the had the slight taste of ale on her lips which she knew was not there before the kiss. Yes, the kiss...Wait! She was in the middle of something. A beating!

 

Bending to pick up the stick the trainee had dropped, Kyrie resumed the poking where he had left off. She had run out of names to call Aran so she contented herself with lecturing him as she jabbed at his ribs and thighs. Occasionally, when she reached a particularly good point, she would whack him over the back with the thing.

 

"MY MOTHER IS NOT FREE WITH ANYTHING!!!"

 

Poke!

 

"EXCEPT MAYBE PASTRIES BUT WE ARE NOT TALKING ABOUT THAT NOW THOUGH ONE WOULD BE REALLY NICE AT THE MOMENT! YOU WILL NOT SPEAK OF HER THAT WAY YOU, YOU, YOU..."

 

Whack!

 

"YOU POCKET SIZED MAN! WHY, I SHOULD BEAT YOU SENSELESS AND I THINK I WILL!"

 

Poke, poke, whack...poke!

 

Things were once again going well. Sure, Aran had managed to throw her off earlier, but this was different. Now she surely had the advantage. She had a stick after all! Yes, nothing could go wrong now! Kyrie continued with her beating.

[Wayfarer]

The day was not turning out particularly well. First that fool Braxton had come to give him a challenge as if they were nobles of some sort. Of all things the lad had then used a whip on him, which had been the lad's last mistake before Aran proceeded to pummel him. Then he'd mistaken Kyrie for her mother, and let spill to Kyrie that he'd been sleeping with her mother, though thankfully she didn't know how long it had been going on. Now the girl had tried not only to destroy any chance of fatherhood, but was now poking and whacking at him with a stick!

 

To Aran's credit, he tried to be calm about it all. Milly wouldn't be impressed if he pummeled her daughter the same way he'd pummeled Braxton. "Li- Ow! Listen to me! Your mo- Ow! Stop it! Get away!" Not that it was proving to be much use. Staggering backward as he fended off the stick as best he could, his patience was steadily being whittled away. Not that he was angry so much... Well, he was, he wasn't a straw dummy to be used so. But enough was enough.

 

Stepping forward inside one of Kyrie's thrusts, he grabbed her wrist as he ripped the stick from her hand and twisting her arm, her back as presented to him. "My turn!" It only took three strikes to break the stick, and have Kyrie on her knees clutching her backside. Throwing the piece still left in his hand aside, Aran felt a sudden urge to sit down. Sitting himself down on the grass, Aran leaned back on one hand as he pointed the other at Kyrie.

 

"Look, I've been seeing your mother for a bit, she's a lovely woman. You can just damn well settle down." All I wanted was sleep, bloody kids!

 

 

Aran

Tower Guard

[Guest Arie Ronshor]

Ooc: since James pointed me to the thread for sheer humor. i'm just an 'innocent'' bystander.

 

Ic:

 

Beast would have wieghted heavily on anyone, but she effortlessly hulled her 6-foot Custom Zwhielander on her 5'6" frame. Carima watched as she saw a few Trainee's, Aran - a prankster by reputation- and one of the newer recruits chased around. A flick of a whip had the Trainee on the ground, only to have kyrie join in the mayhem.

 

"Cad!" Slap!

 

"Cur!" Slap!

 

"Mongrel!" Slap!

 

"Boor!" Slap!

 

 

 

With wide eyes, Cairma just turned and walked away..

 

"I didn't see anything.. i didn't see anything.."

 

 

 

 

 

Cairma

TG (no specific path)

 

Ooc: Awesoem thread! ^_^ LOL!

[Ellorian]

Kyrie tried very hard not to clutch her backside but it HURT SO MUCH! First the hand print and now probably there were dents from that blasted stick! Still, she tried to force her hands to stay at her side. It was much harder to yell at someone and be taken seriously when you were grasping your own arse.

 

"Look, I've been seeing your mother for a bit, she's a lovely woman. You can just damn well settle down."

 

Kyrie eyed the small man. A though occured to her and she wrinkled her nose in distaste. Aran had kissed her mother. Then he kissed her. Well, that was really the same as if she kissed her mother. And not in a wholesome way. Ew.

 

"Am I supposed to call you 'Da' now?" she asked with a sneer. "First you have a go with my mum then you bend me over and now you want me to call you 'Da'?" Any calm she had managed to hold on to disappeared as she thought about it and once again Kyrie launched an attack.

 

A well placed kick knocked the man's only support from under him and once again Kyrie sat on him and smacked away at his head.

 

"Now who's your da?" Wait, that made no sense. No matter! "Say it! Call me Da!!" Yes, this attack was going much better. Once again Kyrie felt as if nothing could possibly go wrong. Victory was assured and all would soo be right with the world!

[Wayfarer]

He hadn't expected that much speed from Kyrie after he'd broken the stick on her buttocks, if Aran weren't the one currently being slapped he would've laughed. The fact that he was being slapped while the young girl was demanding that he call her father wasn't exactly a cause for hilarity for Aran, and wouldn't be at least until the slapping had stopped. That and he was experiencing a strange sense of deja vu.

 

Managing to get his arms free, he grabbed her wrists and tried to dislodge her. Not that it was doing much good. Unlike before, she'd learnt her lesson and her thighs were like steel. Much like her mother in fact. The steel that was, not the lesson, but that was neither here nor there.

 

Regardless, such thighs would have been great under different circumstances but under the current one they were cause of difficulty more than anything else. Even shaking her side to side had no effect, though at least her demands for him to acknowledge her as his paternal half had stopped in favour of wordless rage. He was too drunk and tired, and the girl was filled with an insane amount of strength at the time.

 

Seeing Braxton watching like a dumbstruck idiot, Aran yelled at him. "You bloody mudfoot! Are you going to stand there or what? Get this bloody banshee off me!"

 

 

Aran

Tower Guard

[Sam]

The Mudfoot was--at that very moment--staring at the conflagaration with an unhinged jaw, as it were. After much huffing; puffing, grunting and groaning he had finally managed to stand after the horrific and rather odd beating he had just recieved. His body ached and he was pretty sure there was going to be a large bruise where the handle of his own whip had struck him. That was ironic. Ironic and embarrassing.

 

Braxton had lost... not formerly as such but he would have. He should have. The laws of honourable combat stated with emphasis that a vanquished warrior must meet his fate with aplomb--and only if he could manage it--some honey tea and marmalade sandwhiches. There was no honour to be had in a loss but a loss was clear-cut preferrable to the shame of another coming to his aid and distorting the predestined outcome of the battle.

 

Why, he had a good mind to... nothing. Actually. All of his weapons seemed to have vanished. He was also very sore and was quite adament in his belief that there was a boot print squarely on his... assuming that the culprit was a boot and not one of the many other limbs or whatever else had been within easy reach to beat him with.

 

It was an interesting conundrum and had he the time, Braxton might have spent many entertaining hours pondering the many answers to the riddle. He felt though, that some form of reaction was called for. Prudent, even. He also considered some form of response rather expected and necessary under the circumstances. Very well! Respond I shall!

 

Honour and chivalry governing his actions, Braxton performed the only act allowable without disgracing himself further. Grasping one of the woman's ankles in each hand he began prying the death grip lose. Now Braxton had been required to perform many such operations as a farmer. Flipping steers, aiding in the difficult birthings that often occurred--that sort of caper. Despite this he find himself hard pressed to dislodge the stubborn woman from her perch.

 

"Light and table cloths!" He swore. Or at least Braxon considerd it cursing... to most other people it was to cursing what attacking a grizzly bear with a yoyo was to big game hunting. Still he found himself feeling guilty over his indescretion and muttered a quick apology. There was, after all, a lady present... and what was going on with all the cream!

 

Braxton and Aran between them managed to pry the fiery woman loose. Braxton holding her ankles, Aran her wrists. In a fair imitation of an alligator's death roll she was doing her best to twist free. Having seen what she had done to the man who had humiliated him in "battle", Braxton had no true inclination to render her freedom.

 

Meeting Aran's gaze, Braxton grinned in spite of his own ethos. The two of them began a crab-like walk, the lass stretched out between them. Resigning himself to his own complicity in the act, while secretely enjoying it nonetheless, the trainee and the Tower Guard dumped their fuming passenger into a pond.

[Ellorian]

Well this was awkward. Kyrie twisted and thrashed, or at least twisted and tried to thrash. Aran had her hands and that one she saved had her feet. If only she could get one free she could bloody his nose, the ungrateful lout! Well, that was all fine. Any moment now they would release her and she could have at it. Yes, any moment. Certainly before they reached the pond. Surely they wouldn't throw her...

 

SPLASH

 

Oh. Kyrie sat up in the shallow water, her sore bum sinking into the mud. Ow. A rock. For a long time she didn't move, just sat there thinking. Well, at least this was sure to have gotten the last of the cream off. Probably out of her small clothes as well.

 

RIBBIT

 

A frog landed on one of her knees and Kyrie lost whatever composure she had gained in the cold water. She stood up to run only to fall in the slick mud and sink beneath the surface. When she surfaced again, the frog had perched on her head. Inwardly she knew this posed no real threat. She was much bigger than the frog and possesed a knowledge of hand to hand combat which she was almost certain the frog did not have. Still, her girly instincts took over and she began shreaking as she waded through the muck and back onto the bank where she started waving her arms frantically and jumping around. The frog, being totally confused, clung to her for dear life.

 

"Get it off! Get it off!" Clearly in this battle she was not doing as well as she had previously. Embarrasing because this time she was up against someone who did not have opposable thumbs.

[Wayfarer]

Tossing Kyrie in the water had definitely been a great idea. Not only did Aran feel alot better for it, but Kyrie had ceased her attempts to pummel him. Of course, the reason for this wasn't just the cold shock she'd received. Indeed, she was now embroiled in mortal combat with a frog that was clearly winning the day. Such was the amphibian's martial ability that it was able to so dominate a fully grown woman.

 

Laughing at first, he decided to go and help. Grabbing one of her arms to hold her in one spot, it only helped so much until Braxton woke up and took hold of the other arm. Managing to fish the frog out of her, he wasn't so quick to throw the frog away. With the frog in hand, he doubted she'd be so quick to assault him lest he loose his amphibian of war upon her.

 

Releasing her arm, as did Braxton, they both took a step back from Kyrie who was still collecting herself. Aran wasn't sure what Braxton was doing, but he wore a grin from ear to ear. It seemed that during her struggle, her shift had slipped, and she was wearing a white shirt.

 

Coughing, Aran nodded at Kyrie, who didn't quite seem to understand what he was nodding at. Chuckling, he slipped his coat off as he spoke. "You might want to fix that up." Still getting a questioning look, Aran pointed with the hand he was holding his coat in just a little bit below her neck.

 

 

Aran

Tower Guard

[Ellorian]

With the threat neutralized, Kyrie took a moment to regain her composure. She breathed heavily staring at nothing and scowling slightly. It took her a moment to see that the trainee was staring at her with a goofy grin. Idiot. He was probably amazed by her grace and beauty or something. Men were such fools.

 

"You might want to fix that up."

 

Kyrie only half heard Aran speaking because she was busy keeping an eye on the frog. Never let your opponent out of your sight. The frog had taken round one but if there was a round two, it would be a decisive victory in her favor! Or possibly more screaming and flailing about. Hence the watchful eye. His hand, full of coat, gestured at her neck or something. Wait! Was it another frog?!? Damn those stealthy bastards!

 

With a quick glance down, all of the mysteries of the situation were immidiatly solved: the trainee's grin, Aran's pointing, her drafty feeling. It was not a frog. Worse, it was her...her...her breast! She could barely think the name without blushing. Turning a bright crimson, all at once Kyrie clutched one arm over exposed chest, kicked the grinning trainee in the shin as hard as she could, and frantically grabbed at Aran's coat while trying to keep the short man between her and the frog.

 

It would appear this round would go to embarassment. So the score was: Aran:1, Frog: 1, Embarrassment:2 (it was actually both breasts), and Kyrie:0. Not a good record for the day, not at all.

[Sam]

Now being kicked in either of the shins is a painful prospect from the onset. Second only to being kicked in either of another set of twins. Add on top of that the spiralling collision between shin and stockwhip handle and you have what I like to call a brief contemplative pause giving all due consideration to the level of pain being experienced by Braxton at this moment in time. Females often brag a higher threshold for pay. This is not a strict truth, were Braxton a lesser man he would have cried right there.

 

Various options entered his head at ground zero--the point of impact. First: he could beat the female over the head with a log while she wasn't looking. While it would be entertaining and gratifying in the short term he doubted the out and out repercussions of act would be so pleasure inducing. The other options were not nearly as worthy of note. They expressed the other spectrums on the rainbow of collective possibility. For instance; screaming like a girl, clutching shin and jumping up and down on one foot or biting his lip and turning an incredulous stare on the fiesty wee wench.

 

Let's go with option C. Braxton was at a loss for words. He had, lost a duel with an enemy, then helped that enemy depose another assailant who then in turn kicked Braxton in the shin. What is the normal procedure for a situation like this? He could always invite them back to his dormitory for some scones and tea. Capital!

 

"So... I err... I'm going to be needing my whip back."Awkward Smile.

[Wayfarer]

Kyrie's reaction was, inspired, to say the least. Still, at least they were the only two to be close enough to see her accident, so it wasn't as bad as it could have been for her. Nevertheless, she hadn't been entirely impressed with whatever Braxton had been doing. Most likely gawking, the only teat the lad had probably ever seen was a cow's or his mum's. Strange what a pair of breasts could do to a young lad.

 

Having said that, he did feel sorry for him. A kick to the shins was never pleasant, another reason to be wary around women. That sense of sympathy disappeared the moment the lad mentioned the whip. He still couldn't believe the lad was stupid enough to use a whip on him. Realising he still had the whip in hand, he contemplated taking one of his knives and cutting it to pieces. But he was Deneira's mentee after all.

 

Looking directly into Braxton's eyes with a great deal of his previous anger, it didn't take long for Braxton to look away. "If you want this whip back, you can explain to your mentor why you lost it, and she can get it back from me when she feels you are ready to have it back."

 

That settled, Aran turned to Kyrie but with wariness instead of anger. "I don't supposed you've calmed down enough to talk reasonably? I have a frog and I'm not afraid to use it. Understand?"

 

 

Aran

Tower Guard

[Ellorian]

Kyrie nodded. She knew for a fact the frog was a formidable opponent. Besides, she really had calmed down a bit now that she was properly covered and had tasted vengence in the form of a good kick. She turned to the other trainee and grinned.

 

"You've got to go tell your mum you've been a bad boy. How embarassing."

 

She laughed, mostly just teasing, but also taking a little pleasure in seeing the lad suffer. He had pitched her in the pond after she literally saved his sorry bottom. He deserved a little bit of a jab.

 

"I'm Kyrie, by the way," she said and smiled. But with the anger receding, Kyrie's insecurities and terribly shyness kicked in. Whip-boy was almost cute, or he would be if he'd stop being ridiculous. That made Kyrie very nervous. She blushed and turned back to Aran.

 

"I don't know what there is to talk about," she said, looking down at the man and yet still feeling very small. "I certainly don't want to know what you two get up to." She hesitated a moment.

 

"Am I gonna, you know," she stuttered a bit. "Am I going to be punished for..." She couldn't bring herself to say it. "For hitting you? I mean, you deserved it but, well, I think Elia wouldn't like me hitting you anyway."

[Wayfarer]

Laughing at Kyrie's joke, he noticed that Braxton wasn't entirely impressed but he didn't really have much of a choice in the matter. Then she seemed to remember where she was and she seemed a bit more shy from the way she held herself. Or maybe it was her fear of him reporting her to her mentor, which was rather amusing. Aran didn't dob on people, Braxton had just been silly enough that he was left with no choice but to report himself. That was a completely different matter.

 

Especially because of that whip.

 

Still, he was going to have to fix it all at some point. He couldn't say he exactly understood Kyrie's problem from his own experience. Then again, his mother sleeping with others had been her job description, and she... disappeared from his life before he was old enough to really understand it. By then he'd learnt that such feelings about things like this were rather silly.

 

One could say he was enlightened about it all. As far as Aran could be called enlightened anyway.

 

"It was a bit of a shock for you, for me as well actually. No, I'm not going to tell Elia. None of her business, though from the way you were screaming at the top of your voice, I'd say that most of the yards will know about it by dinner."

 

Judging the situation to be somewhat safer than before, Aran tossed the frog into the pond before turning back to Kyrie. "And no I didn't deserve it. But I've taken worse, so I'm not overly worried. No doubt I won't hear the end of it though. Who's your Da?" Grinning ruefully, Aran made a decision on the spot.

 

"All of this has come dangerously close to sobering me up. Come along you two, heel."

 

There were quite a number of looks sent their way by people who had seen some of what had gone on, but Aran just had his usual grin on his face. He was no stranger to attention and it wasn't the most embaressing thing to happen to him. He did recall having to hide up a tree one time because Alex had lost his temper with him, but that sort of thing happened from time to time.

 

Finding his room, Aran opened it up and walking over to his bedstand, said over his shoulder for whoever came in last to close the door and lock it. Opening up the bedstand he withdrew a rather sizeable bottle and three cups. Filling the cups, he turned around to pass the cups when he realised the trainees were still standing.

 

"Ah, I forgot, seats." Putting the cups down, he got the pair to get on one side of the spare bed while he got on the other and they dragged it over next to his own bed. He'd been meaning to do it since he'd seen Jinnah set up his room so. Having the room to himself had its advantages. He could push them together after the trainees were gone.

 

Passing the cups over to the pair who had seated themselves on the spare bed, Aran took his own cup and grinned at them. "Well, here's to one of my more bizarre afternoon, which wouldn't have been possible without either of you." At that, Aran threw his cup back in one go.

 

 

Aran

Tower Guard

[Sam]

Braxton found this all very strange. He was grateful for it. Aran could have done much worse than a simple beating. While that chivalrous and fantastical hero within him burned with opprobium the rest sighed with relief. Now he was faced with the obstacle of retrieving his whip... that was unfortunate. Discretion is the better part of valour, so they said and he doubted the advisidness of confronting his mentor with the previous actions. It would end... badly.

 

There was only one thing to do and that was accept the offered cup and drink from it. It was potent enough but nothing compared to the homemade batches his Grandfather created. Admittedly, while he could swallow the stuff he still had alow threshold for the debiliting alcoholic after-shock and the brew his Grandfather concocted was used to remove deep-seeded stains and burn away proudflesh on injured horses. You would perhaps manage half a glass before you went completely blind and your centre of gravity became several feet beneath the earth's crust.

 

"Here's to a magnificent lecture I am soon to recieve. My back burns with anticipation!" He drained the remainder of his cup. The courage would be needed.

[Ellorian]

Kyrie couldn't help but wonder if the bed she was sitting on was the same one her mum had been in the night before. She finished her cup in one gulp in hopes of distracting herself. No luck. She held her cup out and it was refilled. Gulp. Nope, still thinking about her mum. Another refill. Gulp.

 

*hic*

 

That last one did *hic* it. Yes. Now she wasn't thinking about...um...*hic* Well at least she wasn't feeling as self-concious as she was before. Why, she could hardly remember why she had been embarassed in the first place. Kyrie proped herself on the wall and tried to focus on Aran. No luck. She tride to focus on...Hmm. She couldn't remember his name. Or had she known it? It was hard to say at this point.

 

"Oi, you, whip-boy. What are you called?" Still no luck focusing, but she managed to turn her head in his general direction to signify to whom she was speaking if "whip-boy" hadn't made it clear.