Johan's Enlistment Interview (Attn: Cat)

The offices of the M'hael, Amyrlin Seat, Master of Arms, Keeper and the MoNSTers
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Craig
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Johan's Enlistment Interview (Attn: Cat)

Post by Craig » November 3rd, 2016, 8:51 pm

Mordjen, Tower Guard
The grey-haired guard jabbed his sour-faced companion roughly in the ribs. "I swear, one day you're going ta let one of these pups stray, and you'll be out on yer arse Heb."

Heb grunted dismissively in response, meandering back to the guard post without a glance back. The grey-haired guard threw his hands up in exasperation with a loud sigh. "Fine," he muttered, turning to the new arrival. "The name's Mordjen. Pleased to meet you. I'll take you to where you ought to go. If you'll follow me, please?"

Mordjen stepped out in front, taking comfortable but ground-eating strides. As he walked, he chattered amiably with the newcomer. The entrance road was somewhat long, and Mordjen only went halfway down before veering off to the right. He cut across a field towards a large four- or five-story building. It looked like a dormitory, and faced the tall glass Grey Tower itself.

"I never tried t' be a Warder meself," Mordjen continued. "Me wife, Liz, bless 'er. Well, she would probably cry herself to sleep every single night if I told her I wanted t' try an' get meself bonded to some fancy Aes Sedai." The guard chuckled at that, then cleared his throat after stealing a glance at the man striding alongside him. "No no, I watch the front gate, and help carry firewood when there are special occasions. That is more than enough connection t' the One Power for me, yessir. But if I could learn some of the way of the Warders, like how they fight with their bare hands, I would very much enjoy learning about that. I think it would make me better at being a guard." Mordjen seemed to be lost in his own thoughts for a moment, his pace slowing briefly.

"Anyways," Mordjen perked up, "Master Darrow.. or is that Captain Darrow now? Mm, well ne'er mind that. He said he would be seeing t' inviting me and some of the boys to a class with his trainees. 'pparently there's a Blademaster for that now. Am sure that will come about when the time is right. Master Darrow always seems to be busy now, especially with that kid to look after, but I think he's a goodly soul. Proper head on his shoulders." They were walking into a hard packed dirt yard, between four buildings spaced far apart. To their immediate right was a barn-sized building all on a single story, with a few people around it. The men and women practicing various forms of fighting styles were spread from there all the way across the Yard. At the opposite end were two newer structures, made of unweathered stone, although the purposes of either was not evident from the exterior. Immediately ahead was the large dormitory hall, and it was towards that and a large set of doors that Mordjen led them. "Master Darrow is a good man, but a hard man too. Don't be letting on what happened with Heb back there, if you please. He's a trial for most, but this Tower is probably the only thing keeping him from finding an arrow wi' his name on it. He didn't mean no harm; I'll keep on at him. The Master of Training's office is upstairs." Mordjen pointed at the set of stairs that ran central through the large lobby. The foyer had a tiled floor and wood panelled walls, with several tables, chairs and benches set out, occupied by groups of trainees in the various greys of the Warder Yards.

Mordjen turned and clasped his hands behind his back, bouncing up once on his toes. "He usually has open hours in his office from a couple of hours before High, until a few hours before Low, if he's no out running an errand. If he doesn't happen t' be there right then, there is usually a book with a pen. You can scribble a request for a meeting, and then come back. Right now, it is about four hours after Early, so he is probably already there." The guard grinned broadly, and nodded. "It is good to welcome you to the Tower. Good luck!" Patting the newcomer jovially on the shoulder, Mordjen retreated back the way they had come.
Ravak Darrow, Master of Training and Gaidin Captain
In the moderately-sized office beyond Riahana's, Ravak Darrow hunched over the small desk in his private study. The room had no windows, so a lit candle was the only real light being cast down onto the pages of the book he was reading. He scribbled notes onto paper in his awkward hand as he jotted down names and dates of people mostly long dead or long forgotten. The feather of the quill in his hand refracted a rainbow of colour off of the candle light. Rav barely noticed the beauty of his ter'angreal as he stared a touch feverishly at the book.

When his eyes stung from staring too hard and failing to blink, he put the quill down, and marked the page with a paperweight. It was just a rock from the Gardens, but it had flecks of colour on it from where lacquerwork had once been. A present from his daughter when she was four, and he treasured it as much as he cared for her drawings, or her stories from the Mar a'Mael, or almost anything she did. He pinched at his raw eyes and forced himself away from the desk.

The main office was filled with the light streaming through the two stained glass windows. Rav groaned from the sudden change in luminescence as he stepped towards the small tea stand. Everything in the room was Shienaran in style, if not in manufacture. It was a lot easier to get imitations carved than to import furniture from the Borderlands. Hard edges and clean lines were everywhere, all built from solid oak. The large desk that dominated the room had solid sides as opposed to spindly legs, so his lower half was concealed from anyone on the other side of the room. Two newer chairs sat on a Taraboner rug for the Gaidin's visitors. A weapon rack in one corner held Rav's weapons. His Tower-forged longsword was placed so that the Flame and Fang on its crossguard was visible. Beside it rested a stout sword-breaker, a long quarterstaff made of silvery wood, and a simple longbow. There was two further tables, covered in more sheets of paper being weighed down various throwing daggers and painted rocks.

Rav poured from the teapot into a small chipped cup, and added a dash of milk from another container. Taking the lukewarm cup, he moved behind his desk and sat down opposite the two mounds of paperwork that denotes his dual duties. Shaggy unkempt hair was flattened as he sat back in his tall leather-backed chair, and brought the tea to his parched lips.

As he lowered the cup, Ravak heard approaching steps along the floorboards outside of his room. He placed the cup down on the table, and made a quick check of his shirt to ensure everything was unruffled. Settling back into his chair, Rav folded his hands on the desk and waited for the new visitor to appear.
OOC: Post Johan's perspective of the guard showing him to the Warder Hall, continuing into the Master of Training's office and him approach to/through the open door.
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Elan wrote:Of course, the problems with observing a chain of command arise when the one in command decides to do something unspeakably idiotic, like taking off on his own for no discernible reason in the middle of enemy territory.

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Re: Johan's Enlistment Interview (Attn: Cat)

Post by Cat » November 3rd, 2016, 10:58 pm

Johan
Johan glanced at his shoulder and then back at the guard, but said nothing, just like how he’d been silent through the whole thing. He hadn’t said even a single word. After all, how were you supposed to say that, actually, you had absolutely no intention of becoming a Warder, and that the real reason you were here was for the three square meals a day? It wasn’t quite the truth, at least the last bit, but it was almost. If it wasn’t for the fact that doing this meant helping his siblings, he would have been long gone before he’d even reached the gates. Even now, he was finding it hard not to bolt. He wasn’t used to be around all these big buildings with their gates and their towering walls and their tiled floors and posh wood panelled walls and fancy furniture that, if sold, could probably feed him and his entire family for years. This wasn’t him. This would never be him. He still wasn’t comfortable with wearing boots, for the love of the Light! Even as he stood there, his feet itched, and he once again had to fight the urge to turn tail and run. He wasn’t sure yet if this whole thing was a trick; a way of catching a thief and taking them off the street. The Light only knew he could be heading to the gallows at any moment. Surprise! It’s what you deserve!

It took him a moment to realise that he had simply been standing there, and he quickly cleared his throat, refusing to meet the gaze of any of those around him. He pointedly stared at the wall, knowing that he must look a right sight. Oh, the Aes Sedai had bought him new clothes – he still wanted to pull at the collar and fiddle with the cuffs of his shirt, completely unused to them as he was -, but they were, by now, well-worn and travel stained. Next to the others in the room, he looked like he had been dragged through a hedge backwards, dumped in a ditch, and then dragged through another hedge for good measure. He and his horse, Soup (because that was what it was going to end up as if he had his way) had not gotten on. He had never ridden in his life until a few weeks ago, and then he had been subjected to hours and hours of it, day after day.

He was never going to get used to this. He wasn’t meant for these posh buildings. He really had never seen anything so big. Light, he thought you could probably fit the entire Rahad into the Tower alone. It was far too excessive, far too much, far too… too grand for the likes of him.

And, again, he had to snap himself out of his thoughts, and he forced himself to move forward, climb the stairs, and go through the door in front of him. He almost expected it to slam shut behind him, lock him in; for soldiers to jump out and drag him away. How could they let someone from the Rahad here? The rug alone was probably worth ten times all that he owned! He couldn’t help but let his eyes linger. The room was probably bigger than the place he had grown up in, and he found it hard to believe that it was just for one person; that all the stuff filling it belonged to a single human being. How much money would it have cost?

After what seemed like an hour, but what must only have been seconds, he dragged his gaze away and turned his attention to the person sat behind the desk. Again, he felt the urge to run away, aware that he must seem like such a pathetic specimen compared to those outside.

“I…” The word dragged itself out, sounding too loud in the otherwise quiet room. “…I heard this is where you come. To…” He straightened his back and lifted his chin, almost daring the man to say ‘no’. “I heard this is where you come to train. With the Warders. I’d liked to.”
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Craig
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Re: Johan's Enlistment Interview (Attn: Cat)

Post by Craig » November 4th, 2016, 12:20 am

Ravak
The boy's eyes wandered around the room, wide and staring and marvelling. Not in admiration, from what Ravak could see, but still in awe. He -- the boy -- looked dishevelled, dirty from travel. Not too hard a journey, from the condition of his boots and breeches. Cart or horse? Not Travelling, too much dirt and dust for that, but not trudging through the countryside from wherever to here. Somewhere southernly like Illian or Altara.

Rav was scratching at his beard, wondering if the lad was going to do more than ogle when he finally found his voice. The words came out slowly, like the last drops of water being rung out from a towel. He looked a bit like that imagined towel, not so much gangly but certainly not much more than flesh on bones. Not that Rav cared how they came to him. He took in all comers and turned them into fighters; they didn't start off that way. Well, not many. He hadn't.

"This is where you come to train," Rav stated in a judging tone. He was testy for reasons other than the lad, but he couldn't keep it hidden. He was a bit strung out himself, and tired, and hungry now that he thought about it. The ache in his eyes told him that there was red mixed in with his pale blue glare, which may be to his benefit if it closed this interview early. Idly Rav gestured to the two chairs opposite his own, inferring that the newcomer was to sit before he continued.

The Gaidin took up his cup in his right hand, catching the briefest glimmer of the golden and scarlet form that ran up from his wrist to his biceps. He tugged the sleeve up so he didn't have to answer any questions on that subject. "My name is Ravak Darrow," stated Rav in a warmer tone than his face betrayed. "You may call me Master Darrow or Ravak Gaidin, whichever of the two you prefer. I am the Master of Training here at the Grey Tower, which means I'm in charge of the Gaidin-in-training. Not Warders," he cautioned, "but Gaidin; the two terms aren't interchangeable." He smiled -- it was a common mistake. "You probably saw others out there training in the greys of the Warder Yards. Pale grey for the Drin, and darker grey for the Ji'val. What you're asking for is to become a Drin. In time, with training and determination you can make it to Ji'val, and from there onto becoming a full brother of the Warder Yards: a Gaidin." There was a lot of new terms and words there, so Rav sipped on more of his bitter tea to give the boy time to process.

Placing the empty cup onto one of the mounds of paperwork, Rav pulled open one of his desk drawers. Reaching in, he produced a large leather ledger protected by a red dustcover, and dropped it to the desk. Fingers reached out for his quill and found empty desk. He winced at the stupidity, and was again reminded how sore his eyes were. "A moment." He rose from his chair, marched through to his office for quill and inkwell, and came back to place the latter on his desk by the ledger.

The Master of Training opened his book and spread it over the desk on a fresh page. "I've got a few questions for you, then you may ask some of me." Bloodshot eyes attempted to bore into the boy's dark brown, but it was more of a glassy stare. "Your name, for a start. And where you're from."

After getting the answers, he continued. "What brings you to the Grey Tower for training? And why do you wish to become a Gaidin? Do you intend to actually become a Warder with all that it entails, being bonded to a channeller until the end of your days or theirs? That is the difference between Gaidin and Warder you see, and it is a vast one." And Ravak Darrow had been on both sides of that coin multiple times in his life already.
OOC: Please make sure that you answer the questions posed above. Principally, make sure to state Johan's reasons for coming to the Grey Tower, and whether and why he intends to be an unbounded Gaidin or a Warder. If you have any questions for Ravak, feel free to ask in your response.
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Elan wrote:Of course, the problems with observing a chain of command arise when the one in command decides to do something unspeakably idiotic, like taking off on his own for no discernible reason in the middle of enemy territory.

Cat
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Posts: 374
Joined: November 2nd, 2016, 8:22 pm
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Re: Johan's Enlistment Interview (Attn: Cat)

Post by Cat » November 4th, 2016, 5:41 pm

Johan
He couldn't say that this was how he had imagined it would all go, but he didn’t know what, exactly, he had expected. Oh, he had had a lot of time to think over the weeks of travelling; to conjure up all different sorts of scenarios, but none of them had been like this. He had thought that there would be some kind of test – like walking across burning coals, swinging across a pit filled with poisonous snakes, and trekking up and down treacherous mountains -, or at least some kind of initiation filled with pomp and ceremony, because these were Aes Sedai and Warders that they were talking about. Pomp and ceremony was the kind of thing that went hand in hand. Sitting down chatting hadn’t even entered his mind. Words, after all, did nothing to show just how good you were with a sword.

The sitting was an issue in itself, and it took every ounce of willpower for Johan to take that seat and not shift about. It was another thing that he wasn’t used to – he could count on one hand the amount of times he had sat on a real, proper chair -, and he didn’t like having to face the door. It made it harder to keep a watch, and there was never a second where he wasn’t watching and waiting, because you never knew when you needed to get up and get out and get the hell away. It was keeping a constant watch that had saved him from getting caught on more than one occasion. In the Rahad, you very much needed eyes in the back of your head, because, otherwise, you might as well sign your death warrant.

He had never been more uncomfortable.

He made himself not give into the urge to glance behind him, to check that there really was no one else coming, and forced himself instead to look at the man across the desk from him; to meet his eyes, though not before he’d caught of gold and scarlet. His attention flickered towards it for all of an instant, before snapping back, too quick to really see. What type of man tattooed themselves in gold? This place was literally dripping with opulence. He really didn’t belong.

Again, he found himself having to fight against his every natural reaction, though this time it was because everything told him to lie about his name and where he was from, and he that he couldn’t. But telling the truth always made him feel vulnerable. Always had, always would. He didn’t like the thought of being traceable. It had never been a good thing in the Rahad. If people knew your name they knew where to find you, and that meant they knew where to kill you. But this wasn’t the Rahad. Lying here would probably have far more far-reaching consequences. The One Power could do more than just kill you, after.

And so it was he told the truth with the other things, too, after he’d given his name.

“I was told it would be a good place for me to come,” he said, chin still raised, daring this Ravok Gaidin to say any different. “And I was promised that my family would get help if I came, so why not? If this means keeping them alive, then it’s worth whatever I have to do.” He paused to give something of a half-snort, half-laugh before continuing with, “And, besides, I don’t think it’s up to me whether or not I become a Warder. Even if I wanted to be bonded, I’d have to be picked first, and I seriously doubt anyone would want me. I’m just here because I was told that this was the best place for me to, although,” and he grinned, “if they give you more food for being a Warder, I might just contemplate it.”
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Craig
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Re: Johan's Enlistment Interview (Attn: Cat)

Post by Craig » November 26th, 2016, 2:34 am

OOC: Crap, I completely lost track of this thread and had forgotten its existence until now. Sorry. Do you want to continue with it?
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Elan wrote:Of course, the problems with observing a chain of command arise when the one in command decides to do something unspeakably idiotic, like taking off on his own for no discernible reason in the middle of enemy territory.

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