Each Journey Begins with a Single Step

[Korryn Wynn]

Crossing the bridge from Alindaer onto the island of Tar Valon, Korryn Wynn briefly touched his pack one last time. The letter in there from his commander in the Whitebridge Watch was his only avenue to the Master at Arms for the Warders of Tar Valon. Working his way through the crowd of passers-by on the streets, Korryn took a few hours to wander. He had a hunch that he would have little time for sightseeing once his training started. Shops and homes mingled the streets, both similar to and eerily different from Whitebridge. Oh, everything was larger, of course. Calling Whitebridge a town was a generous gesture. Caemlyn had nearly sent Korryn's mind off into hiding with its immense walls, beautiful palace, and endless throng of people. Tar Valon was grander by far, but mainly because of the White Tower itself. From afar, the shops and houses on the island looked like any you would expect to find across the breadth of Andor. It wasn't until one approached that the detail and craftsmanship of the structures were revealed. Cornices that would be plain stone in Whitebridge looked like growing trees, flowing water, or flocks of birds taking flight. The images were carved into the stone itself, but it looked like their subjects could take flight, or flow out into the street at any moment.

 

After nearly two hours of walking the streets, Korryn glimpsed a training yard through a gap in the buildings. His delight at the city itself could not compete with his desire, so close to realization now, to join the fight against the Shadow. Ducking through alleys and busy thoroughfares, Korryn made his way resolutely towards the yard. As he got closer, the view opened to reveal a barracks near the yard. Pausing on the opposite side of the street, Korryn carefully removed the letter from his pack and then, as he stood, carefully straightened his coat and checked himself for any obvious signs of dirt or wear. He had brought his best clothes along with him, but he wore his training clothes for travel. He had no weapon. The Watch's halberds were purchased by the Queen, and Commander Chakreem had no spare weapons for him to take along. Just a belt knife, some coppers, his pack, a change of clothes, and the letter.

 

Taking a deep breath, Korryn crossed the street, dodging the carriage that came around the turn as he was halfway across, and then lifted the latch on the simple pedestrian gate and walked towards the lone building on the practice yard. Seeing the door slightly ajar, Korryn knocked and pushed it open, taking a single step into the building.

Edited July 7, 2011 by Korryn Wynn

[devon]

Kalan sat behind his bloody desk. He hated the flaming thing with every part of his being. The orders from the blacksmith, the ink in the the glass bottle, and the pen which sat in his hand; everything about his office caused him to grind his teeth in frustration. As the Master at Arms, he should be out in the Yards, teaching and practicing the sword with others, getting the Guard ready for the inevitable war with the Shadow, not sitting in a cramped office filling out reports. But Commander Mia was strict in her orders that all senior staff members must fill out reports themselves and never pass them on to underlings. And so Kalan sat behind this worthless piece of wood, scribbling with a pen, with his insides feeling like he had drank a gallon of sour goat's milk. I might have to try drinking sour goat's milk the next time I have reports to fill out. Surely the Commander wouldn't make me sit here if I was spewing all over the desk! Well, on second thought, she probably would.

 

With a flourish that bordered on a stab, Kalan finished the last report on his desk. Throwing sand on the piece of paper, he made sure it was dry before putting it in the stack on his desk. A barked order sent in a page to carry the reports out, while Kalan stretched his arms. He was getting older, with white creeping into his black hair, but he was still powerfully built, and after a morning full of fighting the paper army on his desk, he needed some exercise. Well, not exactly exercise. What Kalan really needed was to spar with someone and just let all of his frustration loose on them. It was never fun for them, but Kalan enjoyed it. Grabbing two practice swords, he walked out the door and right into a young man who was looking around the building.

 

Kalan had never seen the boy before, but that wasn't uncommon. He had never been one of the types to remember people by name, instead he would just make up nicknames on the spot. People got offended of course, but who was going to say anything to the Master at Arms? No one, that's who. "Boy, what are you doing here standing outside my bloody office?"