Between Leaves and Blades. (Attn: Locke)

Welcome to the Warder Yards. This is the place for Warder and Trainee roleplays. Informal non-training interactions take place here, as well as some extended role plays.
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Welcome to the Warder Yards. This is the place for Warder and Trainee roleplays. Informal non-training interactions take place here, as well as some extended role plays. Yet these events may take place at any area of the Tower, and sometimes outside of it, since the images to the left merely serves as inspiration towards the sceneries of your stories. Channelers are always welcome, and might even find his or her bondmate through the threads that are displayed below.
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Damon
"The Shadow Rising"
Posts: 195
Joined: January 25th, 2017, 5:14 pm

Between Leaves and Blades. (Attn: Locke)

Post by Damon » May 28th, 2017, 6:28 am

Olin
Olin spun through the forms he had been learning, his hands shifting along the shaft of his spear as he changed guards, and moved through the steps. He had seen the Aielmen as they worked on the sands, there weren't a large number of them here at the Grey Tower, and so they were easily spotted among the circles. He admired their sure movements and strength, and in the back of his mind he idly wondered if that was part of the reason he had chosen to try and learn a spear. They seemed so sure of their place, even when thrust in a different world, while he seemed to be always weighing his actions against what he had seen.

He knew part of what was weighing on his mind was the last patrol he had volunteered for in Ghealdan. The dragonsworn were continuing to be an issue there, with many of their activities increasing the unrest in parts of his homeland. He knew he was supposed to cast off all ties as he became more entrenched within the Grey Tower, but he was unwilling to risk the troubles spreading to the relatively stable area his family lived in. As such he had been on patrol, the Grey Tower aiding the forces of the King, when there was an attack. It was impossible to say if the rabble truly were connected with the dragonsworn, but the threat had been real. Weaves of air and fire from Olin, along with the earthsigning of another Dedicated had stopped the attack. Hunger and desperation had turned them into bandits, and they had truly stood little chance against anyone who could wield the One Power.

Cursing himself for a woolheaded fool, he realized that again he was letting the worries of the day distract him from the task at hand. Realizing that he had been standing lost in thought, with no idea how long he had been standing for all to see. Luckily the rumors about his scar had given him a reputation with many of the Dedicated and Soldiers, so he knew there was little rumors that could be added. But for now he left the sands and sat on a nearby bench, his fingers running over the dulled edges of the spearhead.
"Every man is the hero of his own song," Tad Williams.

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meble kuchenne na wymiar cennik

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