I've got two threads going with him now. I suppose one more won't hurt. If you set it up, I'd be happy to get on it tomorrow. I'm mobile from the beach today.

Dully noted.

Dully noted.

The full smile on Tywin's face faded a little to the half smile he normally wore at her question. What had he learned? A lot. He had learned quite a bit about himself that he hadn't known before. He had learned that he tried too hard on some things and not hard enough on others. He had learned that he could be persistent even when no one was there to watch his triumph. He had learned that he had an above average healing time for bruises. But he had learned things that he little to do with him as well. He had learned that sometimes you could learn more from observation than from out right questioning someone-how did you explain to some one how to twist just right so you landed on your feet, not your ass? He had also learned just how important it was to do something even if you had no idea what it was you were doing. But he said none of this. He wasn't a bloody scholar doing things for some existential reason. He was a young man trying to become a Tower Guard.

"How to become stronger," he answered a mischievous twinkle setting off the half smile. Maybe it wasn't the answer she was looking for. Maybe she was going to sent his butt back out there to run it more. Maybe she would think he was being insubordinate. But it didn't matter. That was his answer-the only answer he planned on giving her. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and waited to see what answer she would give him.

I was thinking in terms of enemies we were fighting. Leather is prolly close to the best for a warder unless they know that they are going to be in battle-less dealing with fatigue and all the joys of wearing heavy armor.

True. What are our primary form of armor? Are we talking plate or chain link mail?

Then they don't qualify as swords because they are the same length. well, I am counting your hands as part of your forearm...

The past week had been one of the hardest weeks in Tywin's life. After that first half a day-there was so much to learn that he could only donate half a day to the course- Coraman had left him on his own to run it. Not that Tywin was really ever alone for long; it seemed the obstacle course was something that you never completely conquered. And those who ran it with him sometimes offered him little nuggets of aid: an easier way to think of the maze, a better position to brace so that if you fell you didn't wrench your arms, how to scour your boots so that they would still pass inspection later.  

Not that he didn't improve on his own. He had been so sore that first night and the next day that even lifting his spoon to eat was an act of will power. But he pushed through it, and by the time two days had passed he wasn't waking up sore anymore. By the end of the third day there was no strain to holding himself on the wall with the rope and making the leap to the rocky incline. By the fourth he could run the rocky path with only half an eye on the changing ground-whoever it was who came in the night and changed the pattern to the path was surely in league with the Dark One. The first two days he had thought he was loosing his mind until one of the other runners mentioned how the incline was his favorite part because it always changed. It was the rope maze that tested his resolve. He had the way through memorized by the fifth day, but the holes were just so very disorienting. He tried running it blind, but that led to him falling flat on his face. Again and again he ran it. The frustration built like a spring being twisted tighter and tighter. And just before the mid day bell on the sixth day the damn broke. Swearing like a drunk sailor with his leave revoked after falling yet again, he decided he didn't care anymore. If he fell, he fell. He would still make Coraman's time. The next morning he ran the course with that carefree attitude...and he didn't fall. He didn't get lost. He ran it again. And again. And again. The results were the same. It seemed he had been trying just too hard.

For the first time all week, he whistled on his way to lunch. Now all he had to do was get Coraman to watch to be sure of what he thought about his time. He was under hers-not by much, but he was there. Things well, things were looking up.

Great minds think alike?

Hmmmm....That does beg the question-when does a knife become a sword...?

ANDREJ! I know you. From other places... <.<   >.>

I Messers are awesome. I'm have trouble finding demo videos for dual wielding them. Messer and shield seem to be the more common pairing. I like them though, so I may just mod the style...

Right so, the rappel didn't look that hard-he'd done something similar enough times with his father. But the rest...Those rocks looked like they could cause more than a bruise from a tumble. And the rope maze-there was nothing for it. He was just going to have to memorize that. And to make things worse he was going to have to do it in front of Coraman. He took a deep breath and blew it out the corner of his mouth. Well, he'd failed at worse in front of bigger crowds. He'd concentrate on getting through the course before worrying about the time. He offered Coraman a lopsided smile as he took off at a run.

The hop into the pillar had him flailing a little bit. Bloody ashes, he was out of practice if he couldn't correct his balance without using his arms. He grimaced as he grabbed the rope. He took to the wall with the balls of his feet putting a majority of his weight on his arms and the rope. Tywin began his ascent cautiously-these were new boots and the soles were slicker than a liquored noble's words to a blushing barmaid. He slipped twice-the second time wrenching his shoulders hard enough to have words coming out of his mouth that would've had his mother boxing his ears hard enough to draw blood. He made it to the top, though. His breathing was accelerated and a quick brush of his shoulder blade with his fingers told him the pain in his shoulders would only get worse. And he still had the descent. But he would do this.

Tywin grit his teeth and steady himself as he went over the side. The rope was only there to turn a full fledged fall into a controlled descent. And the first time he slipped he remembered why his father had insisted on a good pair of leather gloves. Rope burn was a right nightmare. He barely manged to hold himself off the ground long enough to bunch his leg muscles and propel himself off the wall muscles shaking hard enough to be mistaken for him taking a chill. As he landed on his back and the rocks imbedded in the wall, he knew that he might end up the sole reason that the local wisdom ate all winter. He rolled over and pushed himself to his feet. His movements through the incline were slow, but he didn't fall thanks to a number of quick balance checks. The rocky descent wasn't that bad, but he gained little speed.

The ropes were a disaster. He was normally pretty spry, but the way the ropes were woven left holes that made it hard to determine which ones were actually the ones next to him. He didn't trip, but more than once he found himself walking into a rope "wall" or trapped in a dead end. He did his best to take note of where the dead ends were but the large holes that messed with his depth perception were also disorienting. By the time he stumbled out it was fully light and he was starving. One look at Coraman's face told him that tomorrow he was going to eat before he started the day. He time was over twice that of hers. He had his work cut out for him. He waited for the tongue lashing, but she said just one word: "Again."
 

ooc: I'll prolly stretch it out over a week. He's going to be sore enough and he'll need to build up his confidence.

Breakfast had been a hurried affair consisting of a crusty roll, milk with honey, and a couple of boiled eggs-all things that Tywin had managed to charm out of the cook on the excuse that he was going to get in some extra practice that morning. She had been delighted with the idea, saying how few of the trainees showed such dedication to their training. He hadn't liked lying to her-she reminded him something of his mother, but what was done was done. The music box was burning a hole in his pocket and he had maybe a bell before the yard was full of the other trainees and instructors.

Tywin scanned the area just outside the small armory outpost just next to the training ground from yesterday. This would most likely be the best place to stash the music box until he got access to the rest of the grounds and it was empty this time of the morning. He pulled on the latch-the door was locked. He huffed out a breath-a small white cloud of mist escaping his mouth. Another quick scan of the yard as he pulled a small rolled up pouch from his other pocket. He had hoped to not need these tools anymore, but his father had given them to him. Now, he was just glad to have them. Carefully, he inserted a piece of metal longer than the door was thick between the door and the its frame just below the latch. Slowly, keeping one eye on the entryway to the grounds, he lifted the metal. He gave a small shake of his head as the resistance he encountered gave way. A simple latch lock. Anyone with half a brain and a thin enough piece of anything could've unlocked the door. He put the piece of metal back into it's sheathed slot in the roll and the roll into his pocket.

He pushed the door open and walked inside. It was dark and he could just barely make out the weapons in their racks. Now all he had to do was find a little used pile of weaponry and stash the box. Tywin moved with caution around the weapons for a little while before he found what he was looking for: a pile of half rusted scythes. They were likely a relic from when the armory shed had been used as a gardening shed or some such. He squatted and pulled the music box from his pocket. He ran his fingers over the filigree and hesitated. Did he really need to hide this? Surely whomever own it would've raised the alarm yesterday when they noticed it missing if it meant anything to them. Maybe he was being overly cautious, but it would be better not to have it in his possession for at least a little while. He pushed the base of a scythe to the right causing a large cloud of dust to rise. He fell back and coughed hitting the base of a bunch of staffs sending them crashing into several shields hanging on the wall. With a loud crash, these fell banging into their fellows as they went. Great. Just bloody fantastic.There was no way the whole Tower hadn't heard that.

Will do.

It wasn't like Tywin to feel so jittery after a theft. Granted, he hadn't really had that much time to think about it between sparring sessions, weapons inspections and stuffing his mouth. But it sat in his pocket like a hot coal. He wasn't even really sure why he had taken it in the first place. It didn't work. But the idea of having something so nice in his possession... He shook his head and the normal smile on his face turned into a grimace. He knew what was bothering him. He sighed and began another circuit between the leather leaf tree and the tinkling fountain. It was sculpted to look like jumping fish so real you almost expected them to swim off. And he was distracting himself. He needed to make peace with himself over this theft or he would never getting any sleep-he was out past curfew as it was.

So why was it bothering him? He puffed out his cheeks and actually examined where his thoughts wanted him to go. It bothered him not because he took something-he had done that all the time before. It didn't bother him because he had stolen from an Aes Sedai- any one that trusting with their things deserved to be stolen from in his opinion. No, what bothered him was the fact that if they found out it was him who took the music box they would likely kick him out on his ass. His lips pressed themselves into a thin line as he stared at the fountain unseeing. He was just coming to the conclusion that he actually wanted to be here, and not just because it had been his father's last request. He liked the people here. He liked not worrying about having a roof over his head. Bloody ashes, he was beginning to even like the training.

Tywin shoved his hands into his pockets letting his left one cover the outside of the music box as he resumed his pacing. He was threatening this life he was building over a music box that didn't even work! What was wrong with him? His speed picked up so that he was closer to running rather than to pacing now. What was done was done. He doubted that he could remember much about the Aes Sedai beyond what she had been wearing-clothes were the first thing you assessed about someone to determine if they were a good mark or not, and it was second nature to him. He could imagine what would happen if he went up to Nev and tried to give it back. He winced and let out a breath. The music box was his now for good or ill. His best bet was to make sure no one found it.

Decision made, he rolled his shoulders and turned on heel back towards his little room in barracks. He needed two things-sleep and a secure hidey-hole. Sleep would have to come first as he would look ten time more suspicious if he was caught wandering the grounds after dark.

So that was an Aes Sedai, Tywin thought as he stared at the place where she had been. She looked like any other woman even if he couldn't quite place her age. He was on break while Nev sparred with some of the students who were farther along with their training. Frankly, it was nice to give his sore muscles a bit of a break. He'd been going at it with all he had and it was showing in the way his shoulders had thickened to the point that the quartermaster had ordered him new clothing. He let out a sigh and rolled his neck along his shoulders. A glint of something caught his eye on the bench where Nev had left some of his things at the start of practice. His eyes flicked to the sides to see what the others were up to. The trainees in his stage of training were either watching the sparring matches or chatting quietly next to the well they used to drink out of. No one was paying attention to him.

Tywin moved and sat on the bench next to Nev's stuff just like he needed to sit for a moment, the long staff they were working with that morning going across his knees. Looking like he was staring off into the distance more than anything, he studied the things on the bench. It was mostly typical pocket contents-or at least what he knew was typically in people's pockets from years of filching from them. But there was one thing that was different. It looked expensive with it's intricate metal filigree. Carefully, watching the others out of the corners of his eyes for signs of them noticing something they shouldn't, Tywin flicked the lid up with the tips of his fingers. The second it opened he knew what it was-a music box. It didn't play, but that hardly mattered to him. He could almost imagine the look on his mother's face if she had even heard one play let alone touched one 

He closed it taking measure of it's size and shape. The box was small; a little large than the size of his palm with small carved legs. It would be a small matter to slip it into his pocket. He rubbed his hands over the legs of his jeans. He hadn't taken anything in the month he had been here. He'd looked-by the Light he had looked. How could he not when he was surrounded by all this splendor? But he hadn't wanted for anything. He was fed, clothed and had a warm bed that he didn't have to steal for. He was beginning to make friends that admired him not for his ability to spot a choice mark or to evade the city guards. But that little metal box sang to him in a way that no money ever could. He could listen to music without having to make it himself. The very idea was like touching his mother again even though she'd been dead for so long.

Tywin took a deep breath as he heard the call for his training group to get back onto the sand. As he stood, the music box was no longer among the things spread on the bench.

I actually don't know, now that I've read your explanation, which he'd end up choosing. Mayhaps I should have someone explain it to him and have him attempt the technique. My characters are very organic in the way they end up doing things, so letting him experiment will probably be best. Would you care to be the one to give the explanation?

The amount of laughter I had at this statement exceeds the general acronym. Looks like Tywin is going to have quite a class.

The fabric of the uniform was finer than just about anything he had ever known. That wasn't what bothered Tywin. No, what bothered him was the color. So bright. He felt like he was walking around with a sign proclaiming him to every being with eyes. It made his skin crawl. But he had little choice. Unless some Aes Sedai came along and snatched him up he'd be in highly visible colors the rest of his natural life. He leaned against the wall of the barracks and kept half an eye on the other trainees as they exited the building. She had said to meet her there at first light, but it was still at least half a bell before that. There was only the faintest beginnings of light coming over the gardens on the East side of the Tower. It gave him time to think as he stared at the monument to the One Power. A lot had happened in only one day. 

The half smile he normally wore grew brighter as he thought back on it. He wondered if his father had any idea of where the path he had set his son on would lead. He couldn't help but feel like the old man had set in motion some kind of intricate plot that he would only gain understanding of with time. He shook his head and stuck his hands into his pockets to keep them warm. Maybe not even then. Maybe he would never know. And maybe that wasn't a bad thing. The other trainees were a good sort and the single warder he had met wasn't all that bad. Perhaps he could make something of himself here. He'd certainly be more useful here.

Why thank you. I found much on modern knife fighting, not much on the kind I was looking for.

"I'll see you then, Coraman," Tywin said the idea of a bath sounding good. That and a full stomach. It was nice to know that he wasn't the only one who knew what it meant to be hungry and wet while others weren't. Maybe they'd enjoy sharing the more enjoyable moments of street life. While he knew crime was unheard of in Tar Valon, poverty apparently wasn't. He was sure some of the things he found odd she likely would or would've when she first got here. He waited until she left before he began to make his bed. Maybe he could settle in here. He hadn't meant any Aes Sedai yet, but he could grow to like these people. Even that gruff Kynwric.

ooc: it's fine. le fin for the intro, then? I'll start a new thread to cover fitness and such. Good luck moving. I do it every 6-8 weeks and it sucks.

Ne? I don't have to choose?

I have no problem with bunking.

o.0 Now there is pressure... Eeep.