The Great Lord take me, look at the sight! Andros was reeling from his first sight of the White Tower. He had heard the stories about it. Everyone had. But that's exactly what he had thought they were, stories. He never expected anything like this to be true. It was truly a daunting piece of architecture, something he could appreciate from his years as a shipbuilder in Ebou Dar.
Great Lord, Ebou Dar, he thought, blood and ashes I miss that place. What wouldn't I give to see that place. He shook himself of the homesickness. Get a grip, he berated himself, it's only been a few months! If you can't handle this, then maybe Aral and Ralf picked the wrong man for this mission. To infiltrate the Tower Guard and remain a sleeper agent until he was called for by the Great Lord and his trusted servants.
He remembered his journey from Ebou Dar. The heat had been oppressive those first months, and he had killed two horses from riding them too hard. But he had managed to steal a new one after each had died. Then winter had come when he was passing through Andor. He had nearly frozen to death there. He had never seen snow before, and in the cold he was still wearing his summer clothes for Altara where the fall was as warm as the summer in Andor. He had only survived due to unexpected generosity from a traveling merchant. The woman had given him winter furs in exchange for his services as a fake guard. He was used solely for intimidation. He was given a cudgel and many customers eyed him nervously when buying from the merchant. He was thankful for this job, as it gave him company on his journey. He then had parted ways with the merchant outside of Cairhien, she heading back to Caemlyn, and he going to Tar Valon. He was almost there. Another month riding slowly, and with the first shoots of spring, he had caught his first sight of the White Tower, and Tar Valon around it.
Andors brought himself back to the present and rode across the bridge getting into a line that was being checked by guards at the far end. After an hour of waiting, he finally closed with the guards, who stopped him. A slight tremor of fear went up his back. What if they knew who he was? He tucked his left hand into a pocket, knowing that it was unlikely that the guards would know the symbol on his hand for what it was, but even so he wanted to be safe. The guard checked him quickly asking him his business in Tar Valon. He thought quickly. Should he tell him he wanted to join the Twoer Guard? Or should he say he was visiting a relative? Or was he on some business? The guard was waiting for his answer and Andros blurted out, "I'm here to conduct some business." The guard looked at him. "Where's your wares?" The guard was pointing at his next to empty saddlebags. "Um, I'm supposed to pick them up here and then return them to Caemlyn." The guard looked at him and finally shrugged, letting him pass through. He breathed a sigh of relief and realized he suddenly wanted a nice, stiff drink. Where would the nearest inn be?
Andros was now roaring drunk.He sat at a crowded table of people he didn't know and at the moment he didn't care. One was telling a story about how he once fell off a horse and into a stream where he found himself looking into the eys of a fish. To a sober person, the story was confusing, especially seeing as half the words were incomprehensible. But the men at the table didn't care, they were drunk and laughed outrageously. They ordered round after round of ale and they downed them as quick as they could be brought to the table. But with so many drunk people at the table, eventually something had to go wrong. One man was aying something about a pig, and Andros thought that he was being called a pig. "You take that back, you flaming son of a goat!" Andros then promptly got to his feet and dived across the table, spilling all the ale and landing flat on his face. With that, the entire table got up and started slugging at each other. Andros used his size and pounded on the other men, although with as much speed as a snail. The table broke as two men grappled with each other on top of it. The chairs splintered as they used them for clubs. Finally, after what seemed like an hour, somebody had the sense to get the city guard. They quickly showed up and put an end to the fight. They dragged the men outside and brought the to the drunk tank, where they were placed in a large cell, and had cold water tossed in their faces. Andros was already passed out.
He awoke to a splitting headache, and large amounts of vomit soaking his clothes. He waited until his head only had a dull roar ringing inside and he crawled to his knees, only to have his head split open again. He passed out again from the pain. When he awoke the second time, his head did not hurt nearly so much, and he managed to get into a sitting position. After a while, he noticed a man staring at him. The man noticing that he had been seen, walked over and sat next to Andros. "Quite a fight last night, eh friend?" He laughed. "I was told to await your arrival and help you begin your task by two mutual friends. Understood?" Andros nodded his head. The man continued, "Good. My name is Garel. We're going to get out of here and get you some new clothes. This would have been so much easier if you had just stayed at an inn like a normal person. But you have to go and get drunk woth people you don't even know. From now on, you listen to me. Let's go." Garel helped Andros stand and together they proceeded towards the front of the cell. The guard was waiting there for them. Garel nodded at him and the guard unlocked the door. They exited, and walked out into the streets of Tar Valon. "Ah. It's good to get some fresh air again. I was getting tired of smelling stale ale and vomit. Don't you agree?" Andros realized he was making a poke at him and his appearance, but he didn't care at the moment. He was just happy he had somebody there. They walked down the street. Toward the White Tower.
Andros stood at the gates of the Yard, waiting for somebody to acknowledge him. He looked at his clothes that Garel had given him for a last time, and waited impatiently. Finally, he called out. "Hello? I wish to enlist in the Tower Guard." He waited, but nobody seemed to be coming. He tried a second time. "Is anybody there?" A voice called out, "Hold up there, lad. You'll be on your way to see the Mistress of Trainees in a second." The gate opened and Andros walked in. He was met by a guard who led him to an office, hwere he said the Mistress of Trainees was. He knocked and walked in. The MoT sat in a chair behind a desk and just said, "Welcome to the Tower Guard. Your mentor will be Andular. You can wait for him outside the office. Now sign your name and where you're from here." She held out a big book filled with names. He signed his own. Andros Scotch, Eboud Dar, Altara. She smiled at him. "Good, you're now a trainee. Wait outside, please." Andros nodded and walked out the door. There he stood, waiting for this Andular to show up.
Drunken Enlightening (Fumbling in the Dark)
in Legacy Saga Archive
Posted
The Great Lord take me, look at the sight! Andros was reeling from his first sight of the White Tower. He had heard the stories about it. Everyone had. But that's exactly what he had thought they were, stories. He never expected anything like this to be true. It was truly a daunting piece of architecture, something he could appreciate from his years as a shipbuilder in Ebou Dar.
Great Lord, Ebou Dar, he thought, blood and ashes I miss that place. What wouldn't I give to see that place. He shook himself of the homesickness. Get a grip, he berated himself, it's only been a few months! If you can't handle this, then maybe Aral and Ralf picked the wrong man for this mission. To infiltrate the Tower Guard and remain a sleeper agent until he was called for by the Great Lord and his trusted servants.
He remembered his journey from Ebou Dar. The heat had been oppressive those first months, and he had killed two horses from riding them too hard. But he had managed to steal a new one after each had died. Then winter had come when he was passing through Andor. He had nearly frozen to death there. He had never seen snow before, and in the cold he was still wearing his summer clothes for Altara where the fall was as warm as the summer in Andor. He had only survived due to unexpected generosity from a traveling merchant. The woman had given him winter furs in exchange for his services as a fake guard. He was used solely for intimidation. He was given a cudgel and many customers eyed him nervously when buying from the merchant. He was thankful for this job, as it gave him company on his journey. He then had parted ways with the merchant outside of Cairhien, she heading back to Caemlyn, and he going to Tar Valon. He was almost there. Another month riding slowly, and with the first shoots of spring, he had caught his first sight of the White Tower, and Tar Valon around it.
Andors brought himself back to the present and rode across the bridge getting into a line that was being checked by guards at the far end. After an hour of waiting, he finally closed with the guards, who stopped him. A slight tremor of fear went up his back. What if they knew who he was? He tucked his left hand into a pocket, knowing that it was unlikely that the guards would know the symbol on his hand for what it was, but even so he wanted to be safe. The guard checked him quickly asking him his business in Tar Valon. He thought quickly. Should he tell him he wanted to join the Twoer Guard? Or should he say he was visiting a relative? Or was he on some business? The guard was waiting for his answer and Andros blurted out, "I'm here to conduct some business." The guard looked at him. "Where's your wares?" The guard was pointing at his next to empty saddlebags. "Um, I'm supposed to pick them up here and then return them to Caemlyn." The guard looked at him and finally shrugged, letting him pass through. He breathed a sigh of relief and realized he suddenly wanted a nice, stiff drink. Where would the nearest inn be?
Andros was now roaring drunk.He sat at a crowded table of people he didn't know and at the moment he didn't care. One was telling a story about how he once fell off a horse and into a stream where he found himself looking into the eys of a fish. To a sober person, the story was confusing, especially seeing as half the words were incomprehensible. But the men at the table didn't care, they were drunk and laughed outrageously. They ordered round after round of ale and they downed them as quick as they could be brought to the table. But with so many drunk people at the table, eventually something had to go wrong. One man was aying something about a pig, and Andros thought that he was being called a pig. "You take that back, you flaming son of a goat!" Andros then promptly got to his feet and dived across the table, spilling all the ale and landing flat on his face. With that, the entire table got up and started slugging at each other. Andros used his size and pounded on the other men, although with as much speed as a snail. The table broke as two men grappled with each other on top of it. The chairs splintered as they used them for clubs. Finally, after what seemed like an hour, somebody had the sense to get the city guard. They quickly showed up and put an end to the fight. They dragged the men outside and brought the to the drunk tank, where they were placed in a large cell, and had cold water tossed in their faces. Andros was already passed out.
He awoke to a splitting headache, and large amounts of vomit soaking his clothes. He waited until his head only had a dull roar ringing inside and he crawled to his knees, only to have his head split open again. He passed out again from the pain. When he awoke the second time, his head did not hurt nearly so much, and he managed to get into a sitting position. After a while, he noticed a man staring at him. The man noticing that he had been seen, walked over and sat next to Andros. "Quite a fight last night, eh friend?" He laughed. "I was told to await your arrival and help you begin your task by two mutual friends. Understood?" Andros nodded his head. The man continued, "Good. My name is Garel. We're going to get out of here and get you some new clothes. This would have been so much easier if you had just stayed at an inn like a normal person. But you have to go and get drunk woth people you don't even know. From now on, you listen to me. Let's go." Garel helped Andros stand and together they proceeded towards the front of the cell. The guard was waiting there for them. Garel nodded at him and the guard unlocked the door. They exited, and walked out into the streets of Tar Valon. "Ah. It's good to get some fresh air again. I was getting tired of smelling stale ale and vomit. Don't you agree?" Andros realized he was making a poke at him and his appearance, but he didn't care at the moment. He was just happy he had somebody there. They walked down the street. Toward the White Tower.
Andros stood at the gates of the Yard, waiting for somebody to acknowledge him. He looked at his clothes that Garel had given him for a last time, and waited impatiently. Finally, he called out. "Hello? I wish to enlist in the Tower Guard." He waited, but nobody seemed to be coming. He tried a second time. "Is anybody there?" A voice called out, "Hold up there, lad. You'll be on your way to see the Mistress of Trainees in a second." The gate opened and Andros walked in. He was met by a guard who led him to an office, hwere he said the Mistress of Trainees was. He knocked and walked in. The MoT sat in a chair behind a desk and just said, "Welcome to the Tower Guard. Your mentor will be Andular. You can wait for him outside the office. Now sign your name and where you're from here." She held out a big book filled with names. He signed his own. Andros Scotch, Eboud Dar, Altara. She smiled at him. "Good, you're now a trainee. Wait outside, please." Andros nodded and walked out the door. There he stood, waiting for this Andular to show up.