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About Aekold

  • Birthday 12/24/1985

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  1. Aekold stood quietly as the two Warders verbally tested each other with neither wishing to offend. Aekold was a little confused and worried about what he had heard. In the borderlands each soldier knew the chain of command so the next in line could swiftly take up the lead without giving an inch to panic. It seemed that the Tower was less formal and each Warder was like a unit all to themselves. Although alien to him Aekold had no choice but to adapt, men who did not learn and change rarely survived long close to the Blight. After the new Master of Arms took her seat, Aekold took his own once encouraged. "Peace favor your sword, Aekold al'Cadez son of Catheil. I did hear the last bit before interrupting your conversation, I'm afraid that we cannot socialize with the novices of the White Tower however if you could leave her name with me, I will query to see if she is alive and well for you. For now, you are welcome to join our ranks." Kilrin Gaiden took out a large book and looked him over eyes resting momentarily on his sword. "I see that you brought your broadsword so you do have skill but we will need to determine where to place you within our ranks. I will let your trainers evaluate that and report back to me." She wrote on a small parchment sheet and handed it to Aekold, "This is your barracks assignment as well as a note to get your training clothes and a practice lathe. I will need to ask you some very important questions." She leaned forward, looking to Aekold's eyes. "Do you swear to obey your superiors? Do you swear to protect the inhabitants of the White Tower and your fellow warriors? Do you swear to the Creator and the Light, to defeat the Shadow at the Last Battle?" Aekold let his shock touch his eyes for a second at the last question. To ask a Borderlander that final question was a grave insult but thinks were different here in the south. Aekold restrained himself and tried to suppress his emotions the way his uncle had tried to teach him but he never could get the hang of it. At best he could surround himself in a cold formality but inside he would be boiling over. Clenching the arms of the small chair he came to the conclusion that no offense was meant but it still angered him. Focusing on his breathing Aekold paused a moment before trusting himself to speak. “I, Aekold al’Cadez son of Catheil, born of Fal Moran, pride of the Black Hawk, do swear to obey those placed above me and to protect my comrades and those of White Tower. My sword is turned against the Shadow from the moment it met my hand until the Last battle won or until my body no longer draws breath. This I swear under the Light and by my hope of salvation and rebirth until the last embrace of the mother welcome me home.”
  2. "Well met, Aekold al'Cadez, and may peace favour your sword as well," Visar replied politely. "I'm sure we can fit you into our ranks in training without a problem. And I'm sure we will have good use for one who already has training with the Fal Moran guard. This is a good place to learn from the best and fight the shadow, supporting the beacon of the White Tower's Flame. Come, have a seat Aekold al'Cadez. Would you like refreshments? Tell me a little bit more about yourself." Aekold nodded then unstrapped his broadsword from his back before taking the seat on the other side of the desk. He shook his head, politely declining the offer of refreshments. Visar looked as if he was weighing him and Aekold met his gaze steadily. "Why come here? Why the Warders? Why not study with master swordsmen in the Borderlands? They keep themselves sharp up there, and it might be more comfortable among your own people. There are many from all over the world here; some you will find like yourself, yet others completely different. Surely it is not merely your desire to defend the Light or our reputation. Although the mess hall chef is surprisingly good..." Aekold smiled at the Warders joke and took a moment to gather his thoughts before answering . “The blight has been active as of late and the master swordsmen you speak of have been kept busy with their watch. I learned all that I could from my uncle in his off-duty hours but I knew that if I wanted to reach the highest levels a man can reach there was only one place I can learn. From the fabled Warders.” Aekold frowned for a moment, he knew that wasn’t the whole of it, he could have sharpened his skill in his homeland with the blight as the world’s deadliest whetstone but he was drawn south. “Yes Visar Gaiden, I would have been very comfortable among my people but in order to truly master myself I must experience discomfort and adversity. All of these reasons factored into my journey south but they were not the main.” Aekold hesitated, saying he was going to Tar Valon to get answers about his sister and actually facing a Warden were two different things. Duty was heavier than a mountain and Aekold always did what he said he would do. A man was nothing if his word meant nothing. “The main reason I have come to Tar Valon, is to discover the fate of my sister, Alourna. She came here a few years ago to train as a Novice in the White Tower but then her letters stopped. The last we heard from here was she was excited about being tested for acceptance. We have wrote to the Tower a number of times but was always politely side stepped. So finally I decided to come in person once I was deemed ready.” Aekold turned at the sound of the door opening and to his suprise a woman strode in with a slight limp and pulled back the drapes shedding the room in a bright light. “I was told of a guest. I am Kilrin Seail, the new Master at Arms of the Warders. And you two are?” Aekold stood by his chair and bowed to her formally, “Peace favour your sword Kilrin Gaiden, I am Aekold al’Cadez son of Catheil. I was just explaining to Visar Gaiden that I have come to train among the Warders.”
  3. Damon listened as Kyle spoke of times when his emotions got the better of him. It was very common amongst young men and often led to either banditry or soldiery. Violence was in the blood and it takes training and tempering in order to channel it properly. “Well that will do us for today lad, you did well and show promise. If you would like to talk more about the Army of Light or to continue your lessons come see me in my office in the Captain’s quarters on the morrow. If I am free from commitments I will be happy to illuminate your path.” Damon turned to leave but hesitated. Kyle would be an asset to the army but he must show that the Whitecloaks are united under one banner and dispel the rumours of strife. “Also talk to some of the officers from within the Hand and the Eyes of the Light before deciding anything. Dismissed.”
  4. Aekold waited patiently at the office door. It was becoming more and more obvious that the Master at Arms wasn’t within but seeing no other option he decided to wait, this appeared to be the administration centre of the Warders. Someone of note would come by this way eventually. Aekold used his time to think of what he was doing and the home he was abandoning. He had even grown his hair out, allowing the sides of his head to match the length of his previous top-knot. He knew it was warmer in the south but he was still unused to how warm his head felt with the extra hair. However he was no longer a soldier of Fal Moran his watch was over and he no longer had the right to keep his hair in accordance with tradition. He would now forge his own path against the shadow. Luckily Aekold did not have long to wait as he heard footsteps approaching. The man walked with the lazy grace of a lion, knowing that nothing could best him but ready to deter any who tried. Aekold stood straight and awaited to be addressed. “Good day to you. I'm Visar Gaiden. No," Aekold was about to respond before he was waved down. "I'm not the Master of Arms. It appears he might be busy at the moment. But I can help you in his stead while we get you set up. Let's see, ah this is the one." The Warder took out a loop of keys and opened the door which led into a very stark office. It smelled unused for a while but was recently cleaned and everything seemed in its place. "Come on in, young man. My apologies for your wait. What did you say your name was?" Visar Gaiden asked as he stood behind the desk. Aekold crossed his fists before his chest and bowed. “Peace favour your sword Visar Gaiden, I am Aekold al’Cadez son of Catheil, a carpenter, but I was raised by my Uncle Calarne who is a Captain in the Fal Moran city guard. It has been three years since I received my sword and I have now come to train under the Gaiden and defend against the growing shadow.”
  5. Blood covered the ground of this twisted land, guttural screams echoed around the hills while new ones joined them. The fighting became more and more ferocious as the blood lust filled each and every trolloc treading on this reddened ground. Wits and restraint were replaced by only the need to kill. Even the dieing and wounded wielded what weapons they could reach lopping off hooves and hamstringing what didn’t come off. Scortch loved it. Only the steel men were as fun to fight as other trolloc. Not caring if it was friend or foe Scortch grabbed whomever was in front of him by both arms andplanted his black boot in its back and wrenched back. The limbs came off easily but the beast was not yet done. Showing his teeth he unsheathed his curved blade and drove it through the trolloc where his foot had been. Turning with his blade still in hand he swung it around him madly. Feeling it slow as it passed through flesh and bone, only spurred him on. He would kill every last Dha'vol who dared face him. At the moment though, he killed anyone who was near. He was already one of the pack leaders but he wanted to stand under the black man by himself. He wanted first choice on the raids. Greed and bloodlust was all there was to Scortch. All Dhai'mon knew to avoid the black furred, wolf head in battle cause his blade had as much a hunger as its owner. Lacking a foe to face Scortch surveyed his surroundings. Battle still raged but there was a peaceful circle around him, where no trolloc stood and none where recognisable by what was left. Limbs flesh and blood. That’s all there was. Hearing a roar come from the distance Scortch smiled his wolfish grin once again at the thought of more meat. Raising his sword in the air he let out the most blood-curdling roar any human or trolloc had ever heard and charged forth to meet the newcomers.
  6. Damon nodded appreciatively, the lad learned fast and took instruction well. He also noted the lack of emotion within the Recruit. It seemed he had already achieved some semblance of ‘the Oneness’. Damon decided that instead of duelling Kyle it would be best to show him some of the forms and train him properly. Damon assumed the stance Apple Blossom in the Wind, his blade is held low but in a relaxed grip. “This form is Apple Blossom in the Wind you move slowly, as if being gently guided by the breeze. The blade may move up or down as you do, but it is still held in a low guard. Now have a try.” They went on like this for about an hour Damon showing him different forms and Kyle imitating them. Damon would adjust him until it was perfect straightening his back to fit rapping his knuckles when his grip grew too tight. Frustration flashed across his young face on occasion but soon disappeared. Damon smirked, so he hasn’t managed to completely control his emotions, but that will come. “Very good lad, tell me when did you first learn the trick of suppressing your emotions? Do you use a flame, a well or perhaps a river? There are many visualisations you can use to achieve the Oneness but the effect is the same. I, myself use a sword and I visualise it being sheathed encasing all my anger and fear allowing my mind to both think and react clearly.”
  7. Welcome to the site hope you have a great time and you surely will enjoy the rest of the series.
  8. The recruit drew his blade almost hesitantly, in normal instances it was an offense to bare live steel to an officer, but this was training and Damon wanted to see how the recruit would act when blood could be spilled. Once he knew the extent of the lad’s skill and they would switch to dull weapons so that he could test the lad without risk of injury. Kyle’s reluctance did him credit, it meant that he was no fool to rush in and knew that what he carried was death and did not want to use it freely. If the boy had leapt at the opportunity Damon would have disarmed him and kept a watch on his activities. Kyle showed none of this and was obviously thinking things through, concentration painting his face. His balance was good but his form seemed rigid and awkward as if his muscles were unused to the movements. Damon raised his blade to deflect an attempted Leaf on the breeze but offered no counter attack he wanted to see what the recruit could muster by way of attack and whether or not he could keep his wits. “Good feet lad, but remember the blade must be an extension of yourself. No need to be so stiff. Loosen your muscles and joints and move as if at a dance and it is a fair maiden’s hand you hold. Not to tight as to cause pain but enough to know you enjoy her company and don’t want to let go.” He said with a smile. He liked this recruit if his views on Aes Sedai could be tempered he would see about adding him to his unit once anointed.
  9. The merchants he travelled with were very polite and grateful to have another armed man among them but Aekold kept his distance. They appeared to be decent fellows and under normal circumstances he would have liked to join in with their revelry but Aekold knew if he was to be a Warder he must be disciplined. “Simply knowing blade or spear is never enough” his uncle’s words echoed, “your mind must be just as deadly. And, lad you must keep it sharp and ready as you would on watch for a raid.” Aekold thought often of his uncle on this trip allowing Aethan free reign. The black horse was not trained but was clever and had a wicked sense of humour. Aekold had grown to love the animal that threw him the first time he tried to mount up. Another gift from his uncle to celebrate his decision to join the warders. All thought of home soon left him as he awoke from his day dream to one of the most spectacular sights of his life, great city of Tar Valon and erupting from the centre, the glittering White tower. It took every ounce of Aekold’s will to not gawk like a country boy at every building but Tar Valon was so... fluid. Everything flowed gracefully and the buildings were almost lifelike. A stark contrast to the practicalities of his homeland. This is why the border watch is kept, this is why we stand against the blight. Beauty such as this must be preserved. He rode around the city for over an hour getting lost on a number of occasions but soaking in the city the entire time. It was so different and the people so loud and oblivious of the horrors that lie in the North. Eventually, with some direction he arrived at the White Tower itself, although how could have trouble finding a place you can see from miles away was still a mystery to him. He left Aethan at the stables and shouldered his saddle bags as he asked the boy directions to the Gaiden’s Master at Arms. Tossing him a silver upon receiving his answer he made his way across the court yard. He approached the large building which held the Gaiden’s office. This was a structure built for soldiers. Aekold approved of the practicality of everything, everything had a purpose and little time spent on niceties. Aekold dusted and straightened himself before knocking on the door, ready to begin his new life and Light willing discover the fate of his sister.
  10. Heron takes flight, Whirlwind on the Mountain and Heron Spreads its wings, Damon danced as if he was faced on all sides his eyes caught sight of the young recruit he met in the mess hall, and as suddenly as death comes so did the end of the dance as hiss blade flashed in the arc of Spreading the fan, only to return to its sheath. He stood still as the young man approached. "Sir, I was wondering if you would be willing to help me with my sword forms?" Kyle asked with nervousness in his voice. Damon smiled, he knew this one had determination. “Are you not happy...” He looked towards the other recruits, one had a practice blade tangled in between his legs and he was one who doing well, “...um training, with the others recruit Kyle?” Damon laughed as the boy looked from him to the fresh recruits and a frown creased his brow. “Never fear lad, it always sad to dance alone. You look as if you’ve drawn a blade a few times. Show me what you know and we’ll go from there. Raise your blade and begin!”
  11. Narg, what is the correct seating plan for 3 couples at a dinner party?
  12. Name: Liam Age: 19 Appearance: Five foot ten inches tall. He has green eyes and shoulder length black hair that frames an always smiling face. Like all tinkers he wears brightly coloured outfits but usually prefers red to any other. With a slim and agile build he is always the first choice for a dance, if he is not singing or playing the fiddle Background: Son to Broda Mahdi, the seeker for the band and his wife Colly. He has been brought up with the Way of the Leaf . Unlike most Tuatha’an Liam has no problem dealing with strangers, much like his father. Since the Aiel war, their numbers have grown due to people who have seen too much blood shed in their lives and are now seeking a more peaceful way to live. However much to the despair of Broda and the rest of the tinkers, some of these people eventually felt the need to return to a ‘steady’ life. Stubborn to let anyone loose their way, the band usually accompanies those people to as close to their village as they dare in the hopes that the leavers will remain faithful although the Tuatha’an will not force anyone to stay who does not want to It is due to this that the band now rests not far from Cairhien. Ic Liam walked over to the on-going merriment among the wagons after seeing off another who could not hold onto the Way of the Leaf . Idly patting the head of one of the huge mastifs , Liam thought of what his father always told him; that 'the way of the leaf is for everyone just some live further from the tree' but with people always leaving the wagons, maybe he was wrong. Pity welled up inside him for those who could not find a sense of peace but it was soon replaced with joy for all those around him who had. Liam had always walked as if his next step would turn into a dance and on this occasion it did. He was swept up in the twirling of skirts and the clap of hands and soon he began to loose himself to the beat of the music.
  13. His friend seemed to ponder the question before answering. “At our current rate of travel, we can expect to arrive in 7 weeks, 5 days and about 14 hours.” Some of the other around him gaped. Cedon did not call them down he only smiled. His colleague had never had much difficulty discerning distances and the fact that he would do it as if it was nothing out of the ordinary, often left those who did not know him dumbfounded. “Mind you, that’s to the boarder. The capital might take some more time. Mind, I can’t be sure we’ll keep up this rate, or that we won’t run into trouble…”He cut off from an amused look from Cedon andsighed. He over-explained far too much. He pulled his hood up to keep the sun out of his eyes. Cedon shook his head in amusement and spurred his horse on. It seems we have a fair distance to cover. Several weeks past as they made their slow progress towards the Illian border and it seemed that with every league Cedon grew more exhilarated. He dreamed of all those heroes he had heard the Gleemen sing of and pictured himself joining their ranks in history. The thought brought a smile to his face, as he knew it to be childish. Cedon was just relieved to be away from those pompous Nobles who would barely notice him just because he was the younger son. Cedon had learned to accept his status and sometimes enjoyed the lack of intention as it gave him more time to do things that he enjoyed. He looked over at Knoll and couldn’t help but laugh. His friend had his nose deep in one of the books he had brought with him and he barely noticed the glorious landscape that surrounded them. “Don’t you ever get tired from reading the same book over?” His comrade looked at him and smiled and went back to his reading allowing his horse to just follow the others. Cedon chuckled to himself until one of their guardsmen came riding back from scouting ahead. “M’Lord, Illian is just beyond the ridge.” “Thank you Captain,” he turned back to his friend. “You ready to be apart of your own story that people will be fawning over as much as you are that one,” he laughed and galloped towards the rising ridge and there before him lay the beautiful outline of the legendary city where those famous hunters began there journey, before him lay Illian in all its glory. OOC: this is open to anyone just thought I would move it along a bit :)
  14. Damon watched his companions as he ate, their faces told different stories. Eoghann looked uncomfortable and unsure if he wanted to remain at the table, Evelyn seemed amused by the situation and the boy, Kyle seemed a little unsure. The two Hands, showed no intention to answer first if at all, the Questioners found the truth from others but rarely gave it if they could avoid it. Damon silently admonished himself for the thought. A moment ago he was disgusted with the divide within the Children and here he was thinking thoughts which if spoken could ignite all those present and rightly so. He would atone for this mental slip later but for now he would put himself forward to answer the young man's question. Most new recruits were curious about senior officers but rarely had the gumption to follow their inquisitiveness. "The decision I made to join the Children was an easy one, lad. My Father served among the army before me and I was practically raised within the fortress. So it was from a very young age I knew my path lay within the Warriors of the Light. I was too large and excitable for the Eyes," he laughed, "and I always found spreading the through deed more appealing than the study and meticulous practice needed for the hand." Damon gestured to his fellow officers. He couldn't say that he thought torturing an already captured dark friend next to cowardly and always preferred to face a foe head on. How a man fights for his life and freedom is usually enough evidence as to his honour. "Being gifted with sword and horse also helped though I'll admit." he laughed.
  15. I was thinking that my sister may not have returned from the test for accepted and this would be something that could be RP'd as the Sisters would rarely admit to loosing an initiate and could be interesting if a family member turned up.
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