Welcome to the Yards (Attn Dhaimon and Open)

[Sangreal]

(So many new trainees.) Sandre thought as he moved through the yards like a ghost, silent and the look on his face causing heads to turn. He had found out that morning that a new trainee would be moved into his squad. A few trainees ago it had happened and it had taken weeks for the trainee to learn where to be at what time and how his bunk should be made, and boots polished, equipment stored etc. The result was endless amounts of push ups and laps around the yards in the days and nights spent cleaning the barracks. So now to prevent all that so they could actually learn something Sandre had taken the new ones in his squad under his wing so to speak to make everyone's life easier.

 

In his mind he groaned at the thought of having to teach it all all over again. This one apparently had experience in squad fighting so he would know a thing or two about drill (Thank the light.) but most of these militia men had a hard shock when they learned how different the tower really was.

 

Stopping by another trainee on his squad he asked "Where is he?"

 

The trainee nodded towards the sparring area (Where Thera found me on my first day.) and Sandre scanned for the most lost individual he could find and approached him.

 

"Ibram Mizra?" The look of recognition of his own name came over his eyes. "I am Sandre Kaldun. I am on your squad and here to show you how to act and a few things of whats expected of you."

 

Motioning him to follow Sandre set a pace that would cause someone shorter than him to jog. He intended to challenge Ibram today. If he could not keep up with the fast pace of trainee life and learn as fast as he needed to Sandre was going to make sure that he didnt have to tell Ibram that he wouldnt make it here. Ibram would know and leave.

 

OOC I hope this is an ok start :) I chose the challenge theme for this one. Sandres going to challenge you in various activities as he tries to show you how to do them so you dont get your squad in trouble and you can RP how you meet them.

 

 

[DhaiMon]

OOC:OOC I hope this is an ok start Smiley I chose the challenge theme for this one. Sandres going to challenge you in various activities as he tries to show you how to do them so you dont get your squad in trouble and you can RP how you meet them.

Aye aye, let us begin the dance, then.

:D

 

IC: Ibram felt very much like a boy again, looking at all the activity around him. He had thought the few tricks he was taught back in the day quite quick, quite effective. Some of what he did see on his way where he stood now this fine, cool morning made the exercises he had gone through look like stiff, lame prancing.

It made the butcher's work he still had in front of his mind from time to time look all the more clumsier. And all the more brutal.

 

He could recall some of the cavalrymen, mostly men-at-arms, but there were also some minor lordlings among those, driving a flock of people in front of them. Like so much "bleeting sheep", as they used to say. They had their "sport" with them, as they said.

The Lord Commander let it happen, since he believed that "idleness in soldiers, it needs to be cleansed". And if that meant killing some useless mouths that would either cry for food or else cry "their" presence out to the Domani...

The man had been cold about it. Cold as the winds that gusted the wide, open yard.

 

Ibram was told to stand attendance for one Sandre Kaldun who would see him through his first few days in the Yards. Or weeks. Or months, if needed.

 

"Ibram Mizra?"

 

Ibram flinched at that, torn out of his thoughts.

 

"I am Sandre Kaldun. I am on your squad and here to show you how to act and a few things of whats expected of you."

 

"Good sir, me, I have been told as much."

Ibram just had his spear in hand and his knife at his belt. He had left his helmet and other things at the place he'd gone to sleep in. He did not quite know what to make of the answer the Mistress Thera had given him the day before.

Then again, he hoped he could retrieve the things the day he was raised to the Warders. He had seen some of those. They seemed to go by their preference instead of same old, same old, when it came to their arms.

That did not make the Tower Guards look any less intimidating. Soldiers could not be expected to be as formidable as legends.

Compared to the swine Ibram had seen, though, they were excellent. Clean.

 

When motioned to follow, he followed this man.

 

Ages, they come and pass, Ibram thought, idly.

The tree is lost, yet it will be found again, so it is said. Train I did, in the past, yet now, I need to start again, I do.

 

He let that slide, and came along. Hoping he would not get quite so battered as some of the others he had glanced here already.

 

[Sangreal]

Sandre quickly hurried them to where Ibram had slept that night before to recover his gear explaining that if they did not and there was an inspection that Ibram would spend his first day in the circle. He pointed out the circle which was a circle of rope on the ground and those inside the large circle were being worked out and not allowed to leave the spot they were in until they have filled the lake (made a puddle of sweat and vomit) and sometimes it had to be a large lake.

 

"The first few months are always the roughest since they try to weed out the weak. I am not sure who you upset on your first day to end up on our squad but I dont envy you that. You either really made someone mad or you made the mistake of making it clear you have experience before the yards in which case they intend to push you until you bend or break."

 

Ibram gathered his equipment while Sandre remade the man's bunk. He didnt wait to show Ibram, that would come later, but right now if they didnt make it to the mess hall they would not eat. As soon as Ibram's gear was recovered Sandre set off with the man at a dead sprint.

 

"If we dont hurry we will miss breakfast and have to spend a day bringing food in to the storage and cleaning out animal pens."

 

As he ran he knew the man still had his gear and cut him very little slack to see if the man could keep up.

 

OOC First challenge is to race Sandre to the mess hall. However you still have your gear on you. You can now decide how fast of a runner you want Ibram to be. Sandre is about as fast as someone who played sports in school so fast but not too fast.

[DhaiMon]

Master Kaldun kept instructing him, while they were on the way back to his cot. For a cot it had been he had slept in, with no sheet or pillow to soften up sleep.

He could not sleep too well anyhow. The Aes Sedai still troubled him, although he thought that stupid childish. That nearly laughing guy had left his impression as well.

He could not help compare the man to one overly...eager...sergeant that was laughing out loud all the time while beating away at a poor boy. He beat untill blood spattered.

 

Filling out a lake, what good does THAT do then? Ibram wondered. He thought it enough to get a grip of your weapon, and to somehow keep pace with the rest of the column throughout the day.

He guessed there was more to being an excellent soldier than that, now. Maybe far more to being a Warder, at that.

 

"The first few months are always the roughest since they try to weed out the weak. I am not sure who you upset on your first day to end up on our squad but I dont envy you that. You either really made someone mad or you made the mistake of making it clear you have experience before the yards in which case they intend to push you until you bend or break."

 

"Upset? Good Master...I think only now, I see, it, the...training...I got back in Tarabon was a poor boy's joke." Ibram laughed at his own saying that. He thought it a great joke. He still needed to force out that laugh. Literally.

 

Reaching the cot, Ibram took up his meager possessions. They weren't much, really: Only some thin book he forgot the name of, some hard bread, a bag with a few coins he had left in there, and his mail-veiled, iron helmet. All put together into one bundle.

He was not after riches. He had literally put the last he had into getting on that merchant's train to Tar Valon.

 

As soon as Ibram had his things in hand, Master Kaldun set off running. Ibram could do naught but follow.

"If we dont hurry we will miss breakfast and have to spend a day bringing food in to the storage and cleaning out animal pens."

Run for your lives! He remembered someone he once met saying. He did not know anymore whether that had been one of his "comrades". Or a villager.

Run for your bread. He thought, idly. Come to think of it, he hadn't eaten much of a thing these last few days.

As good as he could, he tried to keep up with Kaldun. It wasn't long before his lungs felt leaden and he had to force his breath to keep going. Hard.

 

He had his spear in one hand, his knife at his belt, and the bundle in the other.

He was used to mindless marching along. Yet never had he been forced along like this.

 

Except when he had run away with the girl. And then, pain, thought and many things else seemed to have vanished.

[Sangreal]

Sandre lead Ibram through the mess hall where the food, surprisingly, was always good. He explained that they often ate in shifts depending on classes or whatever else was going on and that you had a few hours to get there and eat and would be fine as long as you did in fact eat. He wondered if Ibram had ever had so much meat stacked on a plate for him.

 

After a quick meal. They spoke with the barrack quartermaster and found out where Ibram's room and bunk were. Sandre quickly showed him just once the proper way to store his gear in case there was an inspection and the proper way to have his bunk made using his own bunk and gear as an example then made. He showed them where hygiene supplies were kept and where to request new items for the room and all said and done took about two hours explaining all this and barrack protocol. Then allowed Ibram to store his gear, and correcting where needed.

 

"That took a bit longer than we were given leave for so we may be up late tonight finishing what needs to be done. Nothing unusual here though. Once we get out side I will show you some basic drill. You probably know some but things are done differently here. You might even be better at it than I am."Sandre said as he slapped Ibram on the back in humor

 

Another hour was spent explaining the drill steps before Sandre decided it was a good time to test.

 

"Alright. Lets see what you learned."he said as he began to call out steps for them both to follow.

 

OOC Feel free to be better at this than Sandre. He hates drill with a passion so it average at it. Being militia you likely had more experience in it. If you decide to be better then I will post Sandre struggling to do better than Ibram lol

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[DhaiMon]

OOC:

OOC Feel free to be better at this than Sandre. He hates drill with a passion so it average at it. Being militia you likely had more experience in it. If you decide to be better then I will post Sandre struggling to do better than Ibram lol

 

Mh....it won't be too artful, I can already promise. Not too big a fan of the Parting The Silk-ing et al.

Let's try...hm...

 

IC:Ibram couldn't quite recall when last he had that much on his plate. And it was good. When he was done with panting after the "walk", he had tried to chew some on the stub of bread he still had. It was stone-hard.

He put it away, and hoped he would be able to get rid of it somewhere along the way.

Wolfing down what he had, he felt ready for more, and not too shaky anymore.

 

He could not really follow what the man was saying. Except for times, anyway, and what to do when and how. And what he showed to him. That, at least, he could try and imitate as good he could. He hoped that was seen so by Sandre as well. And others less mild.

 

"That took a bit longer than we were given leave for so we may be up late tonight finishing what needs to be done. Nothing unusual here though. Once we get out side I will show you some basic drill. You probably know some but things are done differently here. You might even be better at it than I am." With that, Ibram was slapped on the back in a friendly way.

Old grim and flying sows, I like it here. The thought found its way into his mind, baffled as he was at all the...richness...that seemed to come with being in the Guards.

Me, I might like it too much, yet.

 

Outside, the knife at his belt was nearly forgotten as he tried as good he could to imitate the march-order and stances that Master Kaldun showed him. Spear in one hand, erect yet casually held. Not exactly new, yet he was not particularly familiar with the way of the walk. He just hoped that would be overlooked in the mass.

He doubted it would be. Not when this Tower Guard was this good.

 

"Alright. Lets see what you learned."

Sandre Kaldun had said.

He hoped he did well enough. As well as some bird-headed, yokel militia-boy could, anyway.

[Sangreal]

Sandre kept an eye on Ibram as he did the drill with him. Ibram's about face was better than his own much to Sandre's displeasure as that very drill move gave him more push ups than all the others combined.

 

Sandre then explained inspections and showed him how to shine boots which it turned out there was no need for since Ibram had an idea about that. However Sandre's time as room mate to two cobbler's sons gave him some great tips for that.

 

Sandre was almost convinced this guy would do well here. The hardest test was yet to come though. The very part that Sandre himself had had difficulties with.

 

"Next on our list is the morning work out.... we are well in the after noon now but for sake of completeness I feel you should know what it involves. This is going to be every morning and while you will have a physical fitness class there is some expectation that you can in fact do enough not to embarrass your self."

 

Sandre walked over to a rack with some round weights and buckled leather straps and proceeded to loop the straps through the weights and strap both tightly on both his biceps and two more sets just above the knees.

 

"Dont over do it... you can hurt yourself this way and a yellow may not heal you for being stupid. Dont strap the weights below the knees or below the elbows, you will damage them and good luck making it as anything after that. You will eventually get used to wearing these all day when you have academic classes."

 

Sandre watched as Ibram approached the rack. If he chose too much weight as a lot of over eager trainees often did he would either not be able to complete the work out or would hurt himself the first day. In either case it would be a smashing blow to Ibram's confidence. Having seen Ibram take in everything he taught him so far as far as basics go to not get yelled at or punished Sandre was not sure he wanted Ibram to fail. He wasnt going to go easy in this work out either though. Ibram would be showed exactly what was required of him.

 

OOC No challenge in this one but what you decide here will determine what happens in the next set of posts. Is Ibram eager enough to choose too much or too cautious and chooses too little or does he get just enough? We dont seem to be getting into too much detail. I recall boot camp well enough that I think its getting in the way lol. So we will take time on the work out and maybe finish with it if we can get a few good posts. Unless there is something else you want to add of accomplish?

[DhaiMon]

OOC:OOC No challenge in this one but what you decide here will determine what happens in the next set of posts. Is Ibram eager enough to choose too much or too cautious and chooses too little or does he get just enough? We dont seem to be getting into too much detail. I recall boot camp well enough that I think its getting in the way lol. So we will take time on the work out and maybe finish with it if we can get a few good posts. Unless there is something else you want to add of accomplish?

Accomplish? Good gods. :D

We are at the beginning, so let's keep the ball low, heh. ^^

Ibram isn't stupid enough to think that all great and good. He also isn't stupid enough to make a point of not doing it, rofl.

He wasn't taught to "think", heh.

 

Anyway, let's go...

 

IC: "Dont over do it... you can hurt yourself this way and a yellow may not heal you for being stupid. Dont strap the weights below the knees or below the elbows, you will damage them and good luck making it as anything after that. You will eventually get used to wearing these all day when you have academic classes."

 

Ibram was still shaking his head as to the concept.

"What good, this is? Seen war, it I did..." War did not seem to greatly care for anything of this. It was butcher's work.

 

The fine line the column was marching as broke as soon as the houses came in sight.

"They seen us, lads. Them, they be taken, yes?! Off to it, you wolves!"

Bellowing, the mass of "soldiers", weapons and torches in hand, charged the village. Some of the people tried to talk with the mass of soldiers running at them, clearly not believing what they did see coming there. Some cried for them to tell what the matter was, others ran back into their houses. And were back out just in time to be speared, their pitchforks or half-rusted heirlooms falling away from their hands.

Some of them held out for bare moments, shouting at their children and women to run. Those were shot down by archers or taken down by knives and spears and bolts that were thrown or shot at them.

Ibram was baffled, shocked. He could not do a thing. He just stood there, frozen into place...

 

It was there quick enough, it was gone, quick enough. He was back where he was, now.

"Let's start easy, no?", he muttered. With that, he took a lighter set of stones.

Thin as he was, he was not overtly used to that additional weight when moving. It was a hindrance. It was useless.

 

Yet he kept on, even as it dragged him down and wearied him.

He did not think he could keep that up too long. Soon, the spear in his hand seemed heavy as a hammer.

[Sangreal]

Sandre watched as Ibram chose his weights then nodded in approval. He wasnt going to over do it but it would be enough to do some good. He started with some stretches and some light exercises to warm up and looked towards Ibram who was starting to feel the effects already. Sandre too had struggled in the begining.

 

"Ok lets start with some light running. I will make a deal with you. If you can complete two miles with the weights on and one with out I will show you how a few spots around here for when you need some privacy. Believe me you will need them."

 

The run was less than ideal. They were going slow enough that Sandre was feeling the effects of it himself and was wishing for Ibram's lighter weights. The two had gone barely a mile and a half and had to stop for water.

 

"This... will go... much faster... if we run faster." Sandre said between breaths.

 

"Lets make it a race. I will keep my weights on but you can take yours off in half a mile. The loser polishes the others boots tonight. Sounds good?"

[DhaiMon]

Sounds good?"

 

"Losing, it...sounds good...to you...then..." Ibram was panting. This was far worse than his "escape", what he remembered of that, anyway. "Yes...?"

 

Light-headed as he had been then, he did not truly notice the pains growing both in legs, stomach and much everywhere else in his body. He just solely focused on keeping himself moving, and the girl's hand in his.

 

He felt light-headed again, now. Except that he still was able to think clearly. Somehow. He was all too aware of the heavy weight dragging him down.

 

The spear, it cuts down the noble. He thought. Dryly. "...many spears does that, it, take...?" He mumbled. Between taking breaths, and when the weight seemed somewhat less. But it did not go away. Not at all.

 

 

Ibram eyed Master Kaldun from time to time, never truly seeing him. What he seemed to see was that the man kept going as well.

Which was ridiculous, of course. No one could possibly keep this up without nearly killing himself, Ibram had the gut-feeling.

No one but a Warder, anyway.

[Sangreal]

The run was almost mind numbing and the pain... well in the yards you come to enjoy the pain of a good work out. He was forced to get ahead of Ibram or else he would not be able to keep up his pace with the weights on.

 

He finished the run at the river and paced back and forth on the bank until he could breathe again. The weights came off as soon as he stopped. Ibram was not so far behind and the look in his eyes said he survived this run because his mind was elsewhere.

 

"Good job Ibram. Give me a few minutes to recover here and we will walk back... also, welcome to the yards."(Welcome home brother.) he thought to himself.

 

The man knew enough to not make his own and his squads life miserable every day for the next couple of months. There would be mistakes but that is to be expected.

 

Stripping off his boots and everything else that was leather, wood, or metal he jumped in the cold river.

 

Relaxing for a few minutes almost completely submerged he thought. (He will do well here. His battle will be mental.)

 

OOC No need to call him Master Kaldun. Hes a trainee like yourself after all. Also I figure this is as good a place as any to end this one. We can end it with my post here or you can end it with one of yours. Your choice.

[DhaiMon]

OOC:

 

OOC No need to call him Master Kaldun. Hes a trainee like yourself after all. Also I figure this is as good a place as any to end this one. We can end it with my post here or you can end it with one of yours. Your choice.

Mh....I might overdo the politeness there, at that.

Too used to the "Sie"-ing here with me teachers and others for anything else, heh.

 

IC: "Good job Ibram. Give me a few minutes to recover here and we will walk back... also, welcome to the yards."

 

"The honor, it...is...all...mine...", Ibram managed to force out, meanwhile continuing his struggle to get air into himself. Shakily, he offered a hand. It was taken.

 

When he turned to the river to gulp down as much water as he could get to somehow soften up the stony thing that his tongue seemed to be now, he made a point of not looking at Kaldun who seemed to be less...the norm.

 

He thought he would not have been able to do much anything but try to drink the liquid, anyhow.

Somehow, he was dragged to the water...

With a start, he jumped rearwards, stripping off the stones still attached to himself.

 

Nearly killed yourself, no? He thought, idly and dryly at the same time.

 

Time to die 's not yet. Despite the pain and aches, he hoped it was still a long way to that.

 

It felt good to be alive. And to walk beneath the Tree's shade and Light.