Andrei, I'll take up the weapon selection/care and sparring... Just start a thread.

Madoc stopped walking, turning to face her as she spoke, “My father was a Knife Hand Mordre, it didn’t stop him from dying to one of the Eyeless; as many others there that died that day weren’t Thunder Walkers. Stone Dogs and Maidens included.” He itched to turn this into a fight, but kept his calm… mostly. “I do not think that the wheel will suddenly reverse itself and spin my father back out simply because I’ve decided to kill as many of those vile creatures as I can lay spear to.” He looked down at Mordre, “What is this really about Mordre? You have never had the slightest interest in my decisions up until this point. Why when I decide to chase Trollocs do you all of a sudden become interested?” It was then he realized she had implied that he was not doing what his duty. It made him tighten in both fear and anger and he reached out to take hold of her arm so she couldn’t turn away as she was want to do when she didn’t want to answer something. “What do you mean I am not ‘meant’ for the Thunder Walkers?” He drew himself up to his full height, waiting for her to answer, but he was expecting to hear that it was some Wise One nonsense about him not doing what he should be.

Forgot something, eh?

Never let it be said that I'm safe...

Madoc nodded as she asked him to walk, wondering what this was about. “I can walk with you, training is done for today. I was apparently too distractible…” he let that thought trail off without finishing it and then talked on. He wanted to ask if the jeers bothered her, but knew that she would never admit to it. Instead he made some stupid, responsible sounding comment and regretted not asking what had actually been on his mind. “Let us stop by my mother’s Roof though, so I can drop off my weapons, unless you want to spar?” He said it as a light-hearted jest, knowing that she was an Apprentice Wise-One now and would not take up a spear save in the most desperate of situations. The look on her face when he asked it though quickly shut his mouth and they continued the rest of the stroll to his home and then away without a word.

When they were finally away from everyone else in the Hold, or at least it seemed they were, Mordre finally spoke. “Is revenge the reason why you train with the Thunder Walkers?”

His gait took a falter, a huge hitch in his step, that he made up for quickly. This had definitely not been a topic that he’d thought she’d come to talk about. “This is what you want to talk of? The Thunder Walkers?” He expressed in slight disbelief. They’d spent a childhood and adolescence together, and while he’d expected some deep philosophical discussion about their duties and obligations, he had not expected to be questioned about the choices he was making concerning the path his life was taking, it hardly seemed relevant whether he spent his time scouting, fighting for the Hold, Sept and Clan or fighting Shadowspawn in the blight. Before the death of his father it had been obvious that Madoc was headed for life as a Knife Hand or Stone Dog, he had the physical and mental tools for either and with his mother’s brother having taken up more and more of his weapons training with the spear it seemed Stone Dog was his destination. Of course, that had changed after the battle with those Trollocs and the Fade. He realized he had let his thoughts drift, and after taking a moment he composed his thoughts and answered, having given some thought to denying the question outright. However, he had never lied to Mordre though, no matter the subject and he saw no reason to start now. It would be a greater dishonor to lie about his feelings and how it shaped his decision than it had been to admit to allowing those feelings to shape his path. “It is part of it, yes. I do not want my father’s death to have been in vain. Those creatures find their way out of the blight into the Threefold Land with increasing frequency. They do not seem to fear us anymore and I wish to put the fear of the light and the Aiel back into them.” He trailed off, thinking, but quickly followed up, with his own question. “Why?”

ignore this

*raises an eyebrow*

Everything in you blouse.

*eyes her payoff* You still have to share...

Hello everyone... I'm me...

Madoc had been in the practice courtyard all day long, he had spent most of the day working on his archery as it had always been the worst of his weapon skills and he need it to improve so he could better fight the Shadowspawn that threatened the Aiel in what seemed like ever increasing frequency. The last two had been only a couple of months apart and that was troubling when there were times in recent memory when the Hold, even as close to the blight as they were, could go years without seeing even one group of Trollocs in the blight. He was winding down his day with some spear and buckler sparring with his uncle and since they were the last pairing of the day they had the ring to themselves, but for those standing on the sidelines watching.  It was obvious Madoc had improved greatly over the months; however, he was still no match for his mother’s brother who had spent years working with the spear and over whom Madoc had no reach advantage.  As he weaved in and out with Jian, he noticed a peeved looking Mordre lurking on the outskirts of the circle. He knew she was a Wise One’s Apprentice, which had shocked him since all of their lives she had wanted to do nothing but take up the spear and join the Maidens. His distraction was not missed by Jian, who took the opportunity to lash out with the spear and tag Madoc in the head , after which he received a look incredulity until Jian himself turned his head to see what had distracted Madoc.

Madoc's attention jerked back to Jian as he heard the man speak, “Ach, look at that, poor boy can’t concentrate on his spears when there’s a pretty girl about. What’s he going to do when dancing the spears with some Maiden?”

A voice rang out from across the ring, he recognized the voice of Asienda, a Maiden, “The same as all you men do, Jian. Lose and put on white and serve us tea and oosquai under our roof. Maybe we’ll make that give us a kiss though. Madoc would likely enjoy a game of Maiden’s Kiss. “

Before Jian could reply though someone else took up his case, “Since when can a man not appreciate the finer things in life? You must admit that even you, Asienda, were distractable at that age by certain young men, just as you were by pretty oyoung women Jian. Or do you forget that is how you ended up married? Besides, those two have been making eyes at each other since they were old enough to be off their mother's hips.” That made Madoc drop his eyes and he could feel the flush rising in his cheeks. He reset himself and raised his spear and buckler hoping to get another round in, but Jian just shook his head and gestured for him to leave the ring. They were done. “Go see her boy, I know you’d rather spend your time there than here.” Madoc started to protest, they were just friends, that they’d always been friends, but his tongue stopped as he recalled that the last time he’d said that not only had the jeering gotten worse from the warriors but he’d gotten the rough side of Mordre’s tongue to boot. He would never, ever, understand women and certainly not Maidens, or those who wished to be a Maiden.

After putting aside his weapons and buckler he slid through the crowd to where Mordre was standing, he did have to admit that she looked much different in the blouse and skirt of a Wise One than in Cadin’sor. He let his eyes rove for a moment, appreciating the differences in her appearance, before realizing what he was doing and locking his eyes on to hers as he approached. “Mordre.” He said in simple greeting , “Find some free time today?”

What it means to be Aiel - Completed.

http://www.dragonmount.com/forums/topic/82938-setting-the-stage/

Madoc had spent hours this day at a run across the sands and rocks of the Threefold Land, travelling from one hold to another in an effort to improve his stamina and speed, he knew that even once he reached his final destination that his day’s work would not yet be done as he still had to work with bow, knife and spear & buckler to his teachers satisfaction before he would be able to rest this evening. Even as his destination came into view and his mind turned to the things he was sure would be worked on with spear and buckler today he kept his eyes, ears and conscious alert and sharp as even the smallest slip in concentration on his surroundings could be fatal here. He made the effort to steer clear of the scrub and small fissures of rock where the Two-Step liked to make its lair, waiting for an unsuspecting or inattentive creature to come within striking distance. It was just another part of living life in the Threefold Land, learning where to put your feet, learning what to holes to draw water from and which not to, learning which creatures were safe to eat and which were not. The Aiel drew their strength from their home, for the Threefold Land would not allow the soft to survive and the Aiel were anything but soft.

As Madoc came into the Hold he paused, making sure that his shoufa was down and he was easily seen. He made noise that would have gotten earned him extra chores if made anywhere else, but was expected when entering a Hold, another of those idiosyncrasies that made life as an Aiel difficult to understand to those who were not Aiel. When he came upon the actual entrance he slowed to greet the guards there, knowing he had been seen many times over before arriving, but having to maintain the formalities of entering the Hold and be welcomed. Once the formalities were observed it was a short trot to the space where he would be practicing all he had learned over the last few weeks, the spear, buckler, bow and knife. It was times like this, where he brought all his skills to bear in a single day, a testing of types that he felt more keenly the loss of his Father, who had taught him the basics of everything but could no longer help advance Madoc’s skill in anything since his death.

Madoc was covered in sweat, they had begun with the bow, because shooting required calm breathing and steady hands, just the opposite of what his body was giving him after running for so many hours today. He heart was still thudding in his chest and his hands were jittery from the increased blood flow and adrenaline pounding through him. Still he cleared his mind and took aim, he continually hit the target but it was not his best shooting. Madoc had never been more than an acceptable archer though and he was not displeased with his efforts, at least not until he glanced over at the Eagle Brother keeping watch on him. He knew that Kern expected more from him; all his instructors seemed to push him further and further every day, to make him expand his limits every day. He knew this was good, but just occasionally he wished for a day where he could do as he wished… but that was not to be today. With a shake of his head Madoc returned to his practice, firing arrow after arrow into the wicker target at the end of the range, honing his aim and speed of his release until they were acceptable to Kern. Unfortunately there was to be no respite, as his Father’s old friend Luan was there waiting to give Madoc training with the Knife, both throwing it and working it in close quarters.  While this would have been far easier to do when he was still pumped up from his run, now he was having to re-build his heart rate and adrenaline to keep pace with the older Knife Hand, and while Madoc’s size and reach helped him in this type of combat, he was still obviously the student at Luan’s hands for there were several times he found the smaller man well inside his guard and the man’s knife pressed against belly or throat. Madoc was covered in sweat, dirty from the wrestling in the dirt that was involved with knife fighting and truly ready to just sit in the sweat tent and scrap he days collected grime from his skin. Unfortunately, that was not to be just yet as another man was waiting for him when he concluded his work with Luan. This man was his mother’s brother, and had a similar height to Madoc’s if not the same breadth of shoulder.  Still the man made a spar move like an asp, and had made the lessons Madoc had learned from his father child’s play. Now was the time for spear and buckler work, and Jian would ensure that Madoc’s spear would be just as deadly and that he could avenge the loss of his father to the Shadowspawn. Jian was a Thunder Walker, and had made it perfectly clear to his nephew that he would be welcome in their ranks when the time came for Madoc to choose a Society. As soon as Luan stepped from the sparring ring Jian took his place, tossing a spear and buckler to Madoc and making ready for their spar. The following dance was a blur of spears lashing out and bucklers intercepting the metal hewing points or blocked hafts from any number of angles and dodges which left but a hairsbreadth of room the difference between a score and a miss. The dance was interrupted several times, most of which were from Madoc having been slapped with the flat of Jian’s blade and having to restart again. When they finished Madoc knew the hour had drawn late because there were people watching the spar, people other than the other warriors of the Hold. As he wiped the sweat from his brow and took a drink from the waterskin Jian handed him he saw several Wise Ones and the leaders of no less than three Societies. That the spar had drawn attention gave Madoc a little hope that soon enough he would join a Society and be not just another child in the Hold, but a contributing member. Soon enough he would be with the other Thunder Walkers, hunting in the blight and avenging his father.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Kyn had spent the last couple days fixing the wagon up to look more like a Tinker’s wagon than a farm cart, including installing a makeshift bed in the back of it, with a mattress from one of the upstairs bedrooms to make it even more realistic (and to sleep on when they did stop). Under the seat of the thing he stashed his sword and cloak and Loraine’s Great Serpent ring, none of which they needed out in sight while hidden as Tinkers or while travelling in Amadacia. In the closets were stashed more of their more everyday clothing for when they crossed into Andor and could once again be themselves. For now, however, they were dressed in the brightest clothes he could find in the house and he had gotten Lor settled on the seat with two of whomever lived here now’s horses to pull it. He was leaving behind the war trained horses because no Tinker would have the well trained beasts.  If they had to run they’d be caught, and Loraine couldn’t run fast enough to make the speed of the horses an issue, so he went with disguise as much as he could manage.

When he shut the door to his family’s home he took another look over it, wishing some of them had been here to tell him what had happened to his parents and to his sister, but in a way it was probably better not to know. At least now he could break freely from the place without feeling drawn back here again. There was nothing left for a man who had long ago chosen a woman and the Tower over his family.  He turned his back and was quickly up into the bench beside Loraine,  keeping his head faced forwards and taking another look back at his family home.

Chain and Leather are what I recall, with only a very few highly specialized Heavy Cavalry type troops wearing some partial plate... except the Seanchan who wear some sort of scale/lamellar concoction. 

There's that pesky wrist in the way... essentially would you use that as a slashing weapon or a thrusting weapon primarily. Those swords you showed are slashing weapons by design, and that's what makes me think they're swords. That isn't to say you can thrust or slash with the other type, but it isn't their strength.

In my opinion, anything longer than your forearm is a sword... 

“Yes, the cart would slow us down. But they’re looking for us on horseback and if you’re going to go through the trouble of doing a disguise it may as well be done right.” He finished the bandaging he slid up onto the edge of the bed and looking at her as their hands entwined, “If you want to be a Tinker, then you need a Tinker’s stuff, which in my experience includes a wagon… if we're going to hide, let's hide not spoil it by doing something uncharacteristic. Oh, and weaves are fine, It isn't like there's going to be a Child who can tell...”

Kyn let her ease herself back to the bedroom and open her own clothes so he could look at her wound. He peeled the bandage away and taking up a wet, clean rag he washed from around the wound and finally poured some clean water over it to flush out anything left inside. “I still have some of the poultice, but we’ll need to make more before we leave. Be right back…” he rose and disappeared back into the main part of the house to fetch the jar of poultice from his saddle bags and was gone a moment or two before returning. He sat on the edge of the bed and used his fingers to scoop out a liberal amount of the gooey substance which he then smeared over and around her wound. Then he peeled off one of the leaves that had been included to press against her skin before wrapping her back up with clean bandages. “There, it’s looking a little better… take no chances, this needs to be much better in three days. We’ll be riding again then, and not stopping til we’re well out of Amadacia. Unless…” He turned his head to look through the walls at the barn that lay behind it, “unless, they left the cart. Then you can be bounced slightly less than a horse would.”

Fresh meat! 

Errr... welcome!

Kyn glanced over his shoulder as he felt and heard her move around behind him, but saw that she was settling back into a chair to do some of the work and so he kept his mouth closed, she didn't really need him to remind her to take it easy... at least not right this moment. "Yes, stew... the meat isn't worth doing anything else with. But it's at least beef and not rabbit. There's some onions, carrots, celery and garlic to toss in and I also got a bit of barley to boil as well. Simple, good for you and it will last a couple days."

Once everything was cut and he had it in the pot to cook he turned back around on his heels and looked at Lor. "I prolly should look at your wound, put a clean dressing on it. Maybe some more of the poultice..."

That's a bloody short sword, not a knife.

Kyn let out a breath in relief and then took in another deep one before speaking, even as he stepped through doorway and shut it behind him. “Everything I needed and some things I didn’t. There was a Whitecloak patrol coming in, and they were looking for you. Gave your description and a rough direction of travel, I gave them a goose to chase, but that won’t last more than a couple days. So we might have four if this Lieutenant is as fervent as I think he is.” He crossed the short space between them and then leaned down to press his lips to hers, letting them linger a little longer than a simple greeting kiss, he then straightened and headed for the cast iron stove. He glanced back over his shoulder at Lor and then went back to making something fresh to eat. He knew he was tired of travelling food, and he was certain Loraine was too, not to mention the fact that it would be better for healing than what they had been eating. He had already taken in her state, and the careful way she was sitting. They had to leave in three days, it was the longest he could afford to wait and still be comfortable at being able to evade that young Lieutenant and his zeal for capturing a ‘Tar Valon Witch.’ He then caught Loraine’s gaze on him and turned his head back to the food, trying to make something simple, hot and good all at once.

If no one else needs this stuff for advancement, I can do it.

My (and I'm sure our) pleasure.

We used to, I don't know if we still do. Basically any Western European Medieval weapon plus a few Eastern descent... 

Knives could easily be a Primary weapon, look at Thom for an example of that and then perhaps do unarmed as a Secondary. 

Seia, you'll be up with Kilrin in that thread in a moment. 

Kyn led the young man through the halls and out across the colonnade that led down into the yard. There were men working in the yards with jjust ab out every imaginable fighting style, but most used swords of some type or another. "You're welcome, now get your scrawny self down there and get to work." He pointed out the trainer working the yard today, "See that woman," pointing out Kilrin from the crowd. "That is the Master at Arms and she will sort you out properly. When you're ready for a spar, seek me out. I'm Kynwric Gaidin,"