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DRAGONMOUNT

A WHEEL OF TIME COMMUNITY
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It's been a while... (Attn: Addi)

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Loraine stretched her back and legs, pausing to stare at her reflection in the mirror. Her body hadn't changed since she was sixteen, even having twins hadn't rounded her figure any. She was usually able to hide that under the layers Cairhienin society dictated in dressing their noblewomen, but in breeches...

 

She laughed at her reflection and swung her sword belt around her hips before swinging her cloak over her shoulders and making her way out to the Yard. She hadn't spent time working on her swordplay in years and after the report she read this morning, she decided it was long past due. She doubted she'd find Kynwric lurking about, but she didn't need assistance. Just a pell and a practice lathe. She grinned as she stepped out onto the Green, remembering the last time she'd stepped through those doors with no clear-cut plan in mind. She'd been scrubbing pots and polishing swords in the armory for months afterwards.

 

She decided to ward off any unpleasant trips to the Mistress of Novices and paused by the armory on her way out, smiling and appropriating a lathe and directions to an unused pell before leaving it. "Well," she said to no one in particular. "At least I won't have to soak my hands in rosemary oil every night for a month after this trip!"

 

~Loraine

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Muttering, Addison Thwait stomped over to the armoury - one of the great things she'd discovered since joining the Yards, and having had to adapt her wardrobe to suit the life of a soldier, was how much more effective stomping was in big, heavy boots as opposed to tiny, ankle-high shoes.  To further promote this image of intense frustration, she would periodically lash out at trees as straw dummies with the broken lathe she was carrying.  While usually she was on the friendlier side of the scale when it came to the residents of the Warders Yard, her bloody lip, cut cheek, grass-stained clothing, and burning glare were not exactly inviting conversation at the moment.

 

Her current battered state was the result of a spar with one of the newer trainees.  She had locked his lathe with The Grapevine Twists and was about to disarm him when her own lathe snapped, leaving her with only a half-foot of wood.  Improvising, she rushed him, knocking the boy to the ground.  Unfortunately, the idiot child hadn't quite mastered The Spring and was suddenly being held to the ground by his opponent.  Though he apologised profusely later, he struck without thinking and rammed first the but of his lathe into her mouth, then after she rolled off of him, struck her across the cheek with the thing.

 

Just barely keeping a hold on her temper, she'd refrained from taking the remaining half of her lathe to his groin and after yelling at him long enough to cool off slightly, began her trek towards the armoury to ask for a new lathe to be made.  At the armoury door, being far too preoccupied with brooding on her bad luck, she nearly ran into someone she, at first, thought only to be another trainee.  Muttering an apology, she moved to let the other woman out of the building.

 

"Well, at least I won't have to soak my hands in rosemary oil every night for a month after this trip!"

 

Thinking the woman was speaking to her Addi muttered back "Lucky you, I still have another two weeks left in the dining hall for knocking over a soup tureen."  There was another whole story of bad luck, combined with some clumsiness on her part, behind that particular penance.

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Loraine took in everything about the newcomer's entrance in a glance, her years of training picking out details at the blink of an eye and storing them for use later. She smiled, tilting her head a bit. "It must've been Cook's favorite soup, if she's torturing you so." She shook her head a bit, remembering Kyn complaining about that very soup. "I'm sure half the Yard thanked you for it, as well! I'm surprised you're doing the duty by yourself!"

 

She laughed softly, turning her lathe over and offering it to her. "I'm Loraine and, unless I miss my guess, you look like the trainee you were working with needs the back side of this far more than I do!"

 

~Loraine

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Actually bothering to more than glance at the other woman, Addison pulled what must have been a very theatrical double-take.  "Bloody mother's... Er..."  Taking a moment to dig her foot from her mouth, Addi took a deep breath and let the colour subside from her cheeks, somewhat.  "Good afternoon, Loraine Sedai."  She bowed perhaps a hint more deeply than necessary - over-compensation for her earlier stupidity.  "I am Trainee Addison Thwait."

 

Taking the proffered lathe, she swung it through the air a few times in an embarrassingly overeager attempt to showcase her talent.  "Cook did mutter something about spending two days on that soup... didn't help the taste any.  Now that you mention it, I few guards did buy me a round or three of ale that night."  So much talking was making her jaw ache and her left hand came up on its own accord to rub it - as if that would help soothe it any, bloody lucky the idiot didn't break it.

 

Looking over and smiling at the Aes Sedai, she added "He's lucky I don't take more than just a lathe to his backside."

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Loraine laughed and nodded. "Shall I help? I can arrange a few stinging nettles in his breeches to distract him every time he swings at you. I'm pretty good with Fire, too. A few burning sensations in the right places and it's really hard to concentrate!"

 

She tilted her head to the side a moment, surveying the damage to Addi's face. If it felt as bad as it looked, she'd be in for a trip to the infirmary pretty soon. "Either that or he can suffer my sparring while you're off to the infirmary. I can make it look like an accident..." She grinned, imagining a few bumbled forms. "At least, as long as Kynwric doesn't come along and spoil my fun."

 

~Lor

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