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DRAGONMOUNT

A WHEEL OF TIME COMMUNITY

Toy and Minion

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About Toy and Minion

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    Wearer of the Aardvark Armor
  • Birthday 04/16/1990

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  1. Icar struggled to say anything. What could he say? He didn't know anything about trials, about punishment. Deep inside, he knew what punishment he would see fit, for himself, for Elyan. It was a damning position he had been thrust into. He was supposed to remain in the background, not proclaiming punishment in a trial. How had he gotten himself in this? He coughed. "Sandre seems to have done my part for me." He coughed again, nervous. Every eye was upon him. Light, what a mess. "I agree that Elyan should most definitely be punished for his crimes most horrible. He stole, lied,
  2. Icar stood beside and slightly behind the Mistress of Trainees as she sat, banging a dagger on the table for order that had already been enabled. What did a page do, anyways? He had not been able to take his eyes off of the prisoner, this Elyan Marne. The man unsettled him. Something familiar, unwanted familiarity. As he listened to Elyan's words, he found himself walking in that mans shoes. They had lived separate, different lives; Elyan without a family, Icar with one, if a very distant father. Elyan had struggled through life, always being on the bottom, while Icar struggled, bu
  3. Icar pretended to ignore the passing Visar as he waved. He smiled to himself at the back of the Warder. He had come to enjoy their training sessions together. But Icar could not let the Warder know that. Icar was just one more annoying trainee for the man to beat to a pulp in the Yards. Icar smiled as they passed the Flaming Seat Inn. He breathed a sigh of relief as they traveled south down the east side of the river, the exact oposite direction from Jualde, his home. He was afraid to return in case anyone recognized him. That would not have done any good. As they reached the ca
  4. The man was lead away and the Mistress of Trainees looked right at Icar. He nearly jumped. “I don’t know what you think you are doing, but your presence was not asked for here. We will discuss your punishment for eavesdropping later, but in the meantime, I have tasks for you." He struggled to point out that he was in fact sent there, but she continued without pausing. "I want you to go and prepare one of the mess halls for a trial. There will need to be one table for me to sit at as judge, and a chair for the accused to sit. You will be acting as my page during this trial, and will do wh
  5. Trying to copy what Visar had done, Icar swept the sword from its sheath. The blade got caught half way out and Icar stumbled, losing his balance. Clenching his teeth, he fell back into stance and pushed the sword all the way back into its sheath. Taking a breath, he tried again. The sword came out and slashed upward before he swung it around to hit himself in the head as the weight of the blade betrayed him. Slamming the sword back home, he grunted, blinking his right eye in time with the pounding of his heart - as the pain shot through him at precisely that rhythm. Trying again, he swe
  6. Icar tried to make his presence as noticeable as the walls of the gatehouse. He had been sent there by a Guardsman to warn the Guards within to make the place ready for a Murderer to be questioned. After his mission was finished, they had ignored him and he slid himself into the shadowed background. He was curious about this murderer. Thoughts of his mothers killer popped into his head. Could this be the end of it all? He could leave the Tower, go back to Deena. Icar did not recognize the man they dragged into the gatehouse and threw into a wooden stool. Icar did not know how long t
  7. The morning air was ripe with the scent of a city. Icar had not grown up in the city, but he had spent a considerable amount of time in it; enough to be comforted as they rode down the familiar streets of Tar Valon. He had not slept, his mind too cluttered with recent events to allow him the luxury. He had packed only the essentials, one pack he would be able to carry over his shoulder on foot if the need arose. He had been outfitted with a plain shortsword that rested in its scabbard at his waist. They had offered him a shield, but it had proved to be more of a burden than a proper defen
  8. Icar took the sword in both hands hesitantly. Taking a breath, he bent his legs at the knees, left leg before right, and held the sword in both hands, point up and slightly forward, hands at waist level. The warder studied him while he held the stance. For far too long nothing happened. Sweat began to form as his leg muscled spasmed. It was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. How long would the warder just stare at him? What has he supposed to do? No answers seemed to be forthcoming, so Icar held the stance, brow furrowed and teeth gritted against the pain.
  9. Weapons Score 1 to 1: Complete 1 Reqs Name of Req: Arrival Thread (Complete) The Pretender (OTA) Complete ~Link~ Icandar leaves his life behind to join the Tower Guard, his intention: stealing his sister, a Novice, from the White Tower and going into hiding. He was accosted by a guard. The Warder, Visar interfered and allowed Icar to train, showing him to his rooms. After a bountiful breakfast, Icar began his training...
  10. (ooc: I'll join up if no one minds.) Icar wandered around the practice yard, searching for a place to begin. He walked over to a rack where various wooden weapons were stored. Choosing a single sword, the blade curved slightly. It was the type of sword found on most Warders, Icar had noticed. It would do for him. He had to start somewhere. When he turned, he found a familiar face. The Warder Visar who had allowed him entrance and given shown him his quarters. Icar felt weary around the man. Something about him made Icar feel as if the man could see his every thought in his eyes.
  11. To the OP: I think that Clegane answers your question.
  12. Icar tore vigorously into the leg of meat. It was some bird he knew the taste of, if not the name. Many a dinners at the Burning Seat had sported the bird. Never in such quantity for one person, however. Much to his slight disappointment, it was even better than Mistress Adona's. The magnitude of his hunger had escaped him until he had began eating. He was unwilling to stop any time soon. After nearly choking for the third time, Icar slowed down. He gave himself time to think as he nibbled meat from a bone. He was going to start his training this morning. What could he do to surpa
  13. I think Jordan confirmed there was a Creator, but I don't know if that's true and we'd have to see if someone could bring a quote where he does. As for in the books, I agree. It does seem rather strange that the Creator seems to be taken as a fact of life. Religion is not an issue. It's more of one's morality, (Dark One, vs. Creator) than religious beliefs. Always had slight wonder about why they accept it.
  14. "Now if there's anything else you need? I'd best be going soon. I'll see you in the yards after breakfast tomorrow." Icar tried to hide his feelings by clenching his fist into his side. “Nothing more, sir.” He turned away from the Warder to keep his face hidden. He knew it would look like an arrogant dismissal of the Warder and that he’d pay for it tomorrow. But the Warder could not see the furious tears in his eyes. After the Warder left, Icar eased himself into his cot. He winced at the sharp pain in his stomach. Word of the wise: Don’t get punched by a steel gauntlet, idiot.
  15. (OOC: No worries. Holiday time.) Icar followed the Warder, grunting to hide the pain in his stomach. He listened intently to Visar's explanation. It made sense, much as it irked him. A year or two? He didn't have that kind of time. Whoever had killed his mother would be after him and his sister next. He couldn't afford one year, let alone two. He needed access to the White Tower so that he could steal Ricella. He had to find a way to advance more quickly. "Do you have any questions for me, trainee Icar?" "Yes I do." Icar said, letting his eyes wander around his room. "Is
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