Arm's Length (Ravak)

The offices of the M'hael, Amyrlin Seat, Master of Arms, Keeper and the MoNSTers
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Arm's Length (Ravak)

Post by Matty » May 3rd, 2017, 12:47 pm

Feroce Liendin, M'Hael Feroce's diary was rarely empty. Sometimes there were periods in which he could contemplate matters, they were important and didn't really class as "free time", there was always something to do, something to think about. No time off for the man, not that he minded at all. Really this was an extension of his work as a Grey. Keeping things organised, being the face of the men of the Grey Tower, being sensible and grounded and everything his predecessors were not... Feroce might not be the man the Tower wanted, but he was the man the Tower needed.

After a quiet morning of examining his notes and considering the new information he had received, Feroce was ready for his appointments. As a Soldier brought him some tea and refreshments the Cairhienin knew he was to have company which was not unusual in itself, but the "whom" part was still up in the air. He went to see Murdock, who was sat at his desk reading something obscure and old. Typical Brown. "Tell me, who do we have on the schedule for today?"

Murdock looked at his little calendar where he took down such appointments, and handed a copy to Feroce. "A meeting with the Master of Arms first of all Father," he said in his low voice, mellow and almost disinterested. "He was quite keen to speak with you and with your current schedule I thought it prudent to set some time aside." Indeed it wasn't as if people could just walk in as they pleased, regardless of who they were.

What exactly is Ravak after? the former Grey had to wonder. The man was a strange mix of oddities, and a shining example of how mediocrity could become something more through the appropriate use of resources and connections, but other than that Feroce couldn't say he had much to do with the Borderlander prior to their current positions becoming thus occupied. "Very well. Do send him in when he shows." If the man thought his connections with Miahala would sway Feroce in some way then he would be very much mistaken, but Feroce would have to wait and see what he was there for before passing more judgement than he normally did.

A short time later and the M'Hael was sat at his desk going through some notes Zarius had left - inadequate, a one word summary that encompassed so much - when there was a knock and Murdock opened the door. "Father, may I announce Ravak Darrow, the Master of Arms." He bowed his head and retreated unsteadily on his leg, closing the door behind the northern Gaidin as he walked in. Neither man was above the other, the idea being that the M'Hael, Master of Arms and Amyrlin were all equal, but they were in Feroce's rooms, and as such he felt a little more at home than he might were they elsewhere. Feroce's smile was polite as he offered a hand for the man to shake, no need for bowing and ring kissing here. "Ravak, it is good to see you. I trust that the Gaidin programme is going smoothly - would you care for some tea?" Feroce gestured to the small ensemble that the Soldier had left for them, tea and biscuits aplenty. Always the best for the M'Hael and his guests whoever they might be.
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Re: Arm's Length (Ravak)

Post by Craig » May 3rd, 2017, 1:45 pm

Ravak Darrow, Master of Arms
A space opened up around the Master of Arms as he strode into the Grey Tower. He stood in the centre of the entrance hall, casting his eye over the room with its vaunted ceiling and magnificent staircases. It was nothing like anything within the Warder Hall. The great foyer had an earthly and warm feeling, aided by two great fireplaces that flanked either side of the hall, but that was it. Nothing so grand as this, and this was just one room.

The frown that came so easily to the Shienaran was the only thing familiar about his appearance today. Throughout his time as Master of Training and then as Gaidin Captain, Ravak had never taken to wearing anything that wasn't functional. His shirts were plain and unassuming, in colours that allowed him to meld into different environments alongside his colour-shifting fancloak. Today he was dressed in a wine-red shirt with silver brocade around the cuffs and collar, with a black waistcoat over the top adorned solely by his badge of office. A long, fur-lined cloak of a similar shade of red was draped in such a way to conceal his arms and his swords. His hair was held back straight by a small ponytail and his beard was well-trimmed. Ultimately, his goal was to look both commanding and in-command.

He made his way up one of the spiral staircases towards the upper floors of the Tower. He smiled faintly at each greeting or bow or nod of the head. He held some peoples' gazes as he passed, those he knew better, as if to say that the deference was unnecessary. It truly was. So long as they respected his authority, they didn't need to bend the knee in front of him.

Reaching the fifth floor, Rav felt a natural gravitation to step out onto this level and towards Miahala. She was in her office and in good spirits. Maybe she was getting ahead on work, or maybe she had a guest. He did pause at the fifth floor landing, itching a finger against his sword pommel thoughtfully, before convincing himself to continue upwards.

Several more stories and the Master of Arms finally found himself on the same level as his peers. There were only three great rooms on this floor of the Tower: one for the Amyrlin Seat, one for the M'Hael, and a third for the two Keepers. It was towards the lattermost that he strode to, entering after a brief knock. He inclined his head respectfully towards Isadora, and maybe a touch less so towards Murdock. The man was and forever would be an oddity. One day I'm going to need to ask Jaryd why he kept this man on as his Keeper. There had to be some good reason M'Hael after M'Hael opted to go with his strange man.

Well, strange or otherwise, the Keeper of the Archives greeted him with enough grace and dignity. The introductions seemed a touch unnecessary, but mentally Rav allowed it. The Master of Arms clasped hands with Feroce, shaking it firmly. He even smiled at the offer of tea.

"Maybe later; I'm good for just now," Ravak stated with an appreciative nod. He unclasped his cloak, draping over the back of the offered chair, then unbuckled his sword belt. Resting the two heron-marked blades against the arm of the chair, Ravak finally took his seat.

"So, the Blade and the Fang meet," Rav added with a bemused tone. "We've finally swung the balance back to the menfolk of the Tower, no disrespect to Riahana, of course. The Light give me the strength to manage a quarter of her accomplishments and ability to lead the Tower." He reached forward to take up a biscuit, something with a cream filling. "The Gaidin programme goes well." Strange question. "It could be going better."

Ravak cast his eye around the M'Hael's room just as he had done in the entranceway of the Tower. A far larger and grander room than his own. Feroce's seal of office was also more prominent. Barely covered-up irritation began to manifest with a creasing of the Shienaran's brow.

"It's a fair distance to get up here," Ravak stated. He held the Cairhienin's gaze for a long moment before adding "It's a bit strange how we are equals, yet the Master or Mistress of Arms has to traipse all this distance to get here."
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Re: Arm's Length (Ravak)

Post by Matty » May 3rd, 2017, 2:49 pm

Feroce poured himself tea, a gesture he would happily extend to Ravak should he change his mind, and added plenty of lemon and honey. The man afforded himself a few extravagances and this was one of them, a reminder to himself mostly that he was more than just a man who served the Grey Tower, but also a fellow with taste.

The M'Hael knew there were many ways one could use a simple act of tea drinking to gauge responses, pause in replying, and show thoughtfulness by swirling the liquid around, et cetera. Right then he sat with the drink in front of him, after a testing sip of course, hands together to show his attention was fully on Ravak for the time being. As far as he was concerned there was no "balance" to be realigned, and the role of Master or Mistress of Arms was well served regardless of gender. Something for Feroce to note. He sings his predecessor's praises but acknowledges flaws in the programme, the Cairhienin thought. Riahana was a fine Mistress of Arms but she didn't solely overlook the training of their future Warders, much in the same way Feroce was not directly training Soldiers and Dedicated. It hadn't taken long for the man to observe gaps in the system it would seem, but then he had been around for long enough to have experienced some of them first-hand no doubt. "Light give you strength indeed," he said gravely. "We sit in the shadows of our predecessors, for better or worse."

He met the man's sharp gaze, aware of how trainees would react to such a look were they to be on the receiving end of it. But Feroce was mild and pleasant throughout, keeping his look with polite curiosity. Was the man seriously irritated by... having to walk to meet him? There was more to it than a simple journey. The implications were not lost on Feroce, who was both startled and amused that Ravak was complaining so soon after being given this position. Are we really equals? You spend your time stabbing people with the most effectiveness and lather yourself in accolades. Later, I'm meeting with the Merchant's Council to examine trade routes between Arad Doman and Saldaea. Years of practice kept Feroce's pleasant smile on his face, a contrast with the onset of irritation he was encountered with.

"Had I known the walk was an issue, I would have happily met you elsewhere," Feroce offered mildly. "I am not adverse to meeting in another room - I'm not long in this position but the decor is already quite familiar to me." He gave a short laugh, "Why meet here? Next time, we can find an Inn in Shienar, and hire a room there should you like. Though that would take us away from the Tower." Or you can make the walk here, Feroce thought. He didn't directly address the "equals" part, focussing instead of the practicalities of the location rather than the implications. If they were what Ravak wished to discuss, he could bring them up himself. If he was grumbling about a walk being what it was then, well, that was rather awkward.

Now was the time to drink the tea, and so drink his tea Feroce did.
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Re: Arm's Length (Ravak)

Post by Craig » May 3rd, 2017, 3:09 pm

Ravak
Rav considered whether he'd accidentally mastered the art of subtlety after that response. Did Feroce genuinely think he was concerned about how far he had walked? You didn't have to be Aiel to know how to travel some distance on your own two legs. Or did the M'Hael simply Travel hither and thither?

He placed the cream biscuit down on the arm of the chair. "It's not the walk that concerns me." Ravak leant forward, not for intimidation, but to emphasise... something. It just felt like the right gesture. "The Grey Tower is all about the equality of its members. Male and female channellers working alongside Gaidin; alongside, not underneath. Even if some Gaidin are bonded and thus find themselves with differing priorities, they are still the same as any Aes Sedai or Asha'man. It's this fair approach that attracted me to the Grey Tower in the first place, after learning how poorly treated the White Tower handles their Gaidin." With a sigh, the Shienaran sat back and took up the biscuit. He made it vanish in a single mouthful.

Ravak tried to smile softly for the next part. He could be diplomatic at times. "The Fang and the Flame sit at the pinnacle of this beautiful edifice of Power-wrought glass and stone. I never had the displeasure of being summoned to the Amyrlin or M'Hael during my time, but I imagine such an ascent is nerve-wracking. And then you step into this place--" he gestured towards the large room around them "--and, well, you know where you are and whom you stand before. The Father of the Grey Tower; The Fang of Hama Valon."

Rav itched at his beard. "Not quite the same when one is summoned to see the Mistress of Arms, as happened to me on occasion. The Warder Hall isn't quite as dramatic a sight as the Grey Tower, nor is the ascent up a single staircase quite so intimidating. Oh, don't get me wrong, it was frightful, but it's not really going to cut it when a noble gets called up. Or a general."

"My point is, if we are to be equals -- if we are to be seen as equals to the outside world -- then we should be equals. If the Amyrlin Seat and the M'Hael reside within the Grey Tower, then so too should the Master of Arms."
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Re: Arm's Length (Ravak)

Post by Matty » May 4th, 2017, 1:34 pm

Ahh there we are. There was a certain amount of forthrightness that came with Borderlanders that Feroce used to find somewhat base, but now he accepted it as simply another part of the Game, whether they chose to partake in it or not. The truth of it was that everyone was involved in their own way, whether consciously or in complete denial. Everyone made waves, no matter how small, and it was about controlling them when they came from elsewhere.

On the surface it wasn't an unreasonable request, though whether it came from low self esteem or a desire to look more important to other people. Appearances were important, yes, and Feroce knew better than any how one's looks could be interpreted. The Master of Arms had chosen his look well, making sure to exude dominance and authority amongst his peers. Why would one's accommodations be any different? Ravak wasn't entirely wrong with his line of thinking and Feroce could see how this conclusion was made, but as ever things were not as simple as that.

He did wish that the man ate his biscuits in a more gentlemanly manner though. There was a rough edge to seeing a man devour a whole biscuit that made the Cairhienin wince internally.

"There are three rooms in this part of the Tower. I do wonder at the history of this place, whether they were intended for the Flame, Fang and Blade initially or not." The former Grey sounded thoughtful as he spoke, speculation lacing his words. "At some point they must have agreed to the Master of Arms' office being located elsewhere. It would disappoint me to think that our predecessors would do this based on incorrect ideas of "equality" rather than some other pragmatic reason." Feroce gestured with one hand in the direction of the Warder's grounds, "I'm sure they had a good reason for doing this." The alternative option - that previous leaders of the Tower were indeed biased - was no small claim to make, and Feroce was most interested to see what Ravak made of that assertion, whether he came to that conclusion himself. How large was the bee in his bonnet? He'd practically said that the Warders were not seen the same as Asha'man and Aes Sedai, and it was difficult to refute that, but moving offices wouldn't change that.

"My theory is that from a defensive standpoint, it made more sense for the weapons to be located together, and separate from the channellers. The Warders protect their Aes Sedai and Asha'man, a number of whom do not have any offensive capabilities and at the same time are the target of Whitecloaks, Seanchan, Darkfriends, anyone they interfere with. I'm sure the Gaidin Captain and the Master of Training are both capable of doing their job, though they aren't the Master of Arms. And as you say, there are things that 'could be going better'.

"An office and its appearance can be important to set the scene, but ultimately it is the leader who asserts their authority." It seemed to Feroce that Ravak's perceived notions of equality were his own, yet he was speaking on behalf of the world outside the Grey Tower.
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Re: Arm's Length (Ravak)

Post by Craig » May 4th, 2017, 2:05 pm

Ravak
Feroce reminded Ravak why he didn't like Cairhienin as a people. They were wily and always scheming. He'd come here in good faith, dropping some self-deprecating remarks, making his case without fervour or dismay. But Feroce clearly wasn't a man for straight talking. Bloody southerners. But there was more then the verbal game of stones that was setting the Master of Arms' teeth to gnash.

"I have been the target of Whitecloaks and Shadowspawn myself," Rav added in casually. "Both came all the way to Hama Valon in their attempts to assassinate me. I don't think a few flights of stairs would have posed much more resistance to them. Plus..." Ravak's throat tightened before he was capable of speech again. "Plus we've had people murdered in the Tower before. It is a lie to think the danger is only external from the Grey Tower."

Rav took hold of another biscuit, but it remained in his grip for the time being. "Whatever the reason for the existence of three rooms isn't either here nor there, or is the fact that you're using history as a guide for what we should be doing now. Things have changed even during my tenure here." With his free hand, Rav gestured at Feroce. "For one, you had the choice to free yourself from the Three Oaths. That was a cataclysmic-sized shift on our history. Then we have had to rebuild the Grey Tower to accommodate eight Ajahs, when we started with only the seven. We've seen changes to the tests put before the Drin and the Ji'val and Accepted and Dedicated. Things change."

The Gaidin took a civilised bite from his biscuit, licking crumbs from his lips and moustache before continuing. "But you're right about authority. I fully intend to assert my authority within the Hall, and I fully intend to assert the authority of the Grey Tower to the world in general." His storm-grey eyes narrowed, although the anger was directed towards something other than the M'Hael. "The Grey Tower is not the only weapon of the Light, but it is the strongest. We should be using it more proactively to fight the Shadow, to banish corruption, and to bring together the minds and bodies that will ensure our victory -- the Light's victory -- during the Final Battle."
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Re: Arm's Length (Ravak)

Post by Matty » May 26th, 2017, 9:38 pm

The most amusing thing about Ravak - and there were several aspects Feroce could choose from that were borderline bemusing more than funny - was that he thought himself on the same level as Feroce. Not in a channeller vs Warder way, and not as the M'Hael and the Master of Arms. As an educated man, capable of stimulating conversation and intrigue. Of getting what he wanted without stomping his feet and waving his horns around. You might wear a smart cloak and carry heron-marked blades, but they have little currency here. Oh, Feroce would make use of him if he had need for a boorish blademaster of a high position within the Grey Tower, he had no choice in the matter really, but one did not use a warhammer to put nails into wood.

A warhammer that was going to throw his weight around the Hall and make a fool of himself before all was said and done. Feroce would not dissuade him from this, it would serve well to remind the other channellers that the Warders had one thing they did well, and it wasn't the running of the Grey Tower. "Noble sentiments, spoken by a man who truly walks in the Light." The Cairhienin smiled, trying to put more warmth into it. They had the same goal after all, just a different way of approaching it. "You are quite right. The Grey Tower is a powerful beacon of Light in the darkness that is to come, and we must make sure we shine brightest to eradicate as much of the Dark One's touch as possible. This, I believe we can accomplish." Delivered in a mild voice that lacked the truth depth of his sentiment. It was a natural response to Ravak's aggressive expression, as the M'Hael determined that one of them had to remain rational. That emotion was going to get him into hot water with the Hall. Change was constant and necessary, but that didn't equate to ignoring history altogether. Why, many of their decisions were based on those made at the White and Black Towers in the past - with no thought to where they came from, there would be very little use for the Brown Ajah. Ignoring your behind to keep looking ahead was a sure way to let the tide catch up with you without warning.

Back to the matter at hand - Feroce felt his Oaths were a personal decision, and he thought the changes to the tests irrelevant to their discussion - to his own agenda - so he ignored them. "But I don't think our office location is necessarily high on the list of accomplishments which will enable us to defeat the forces of the shadow. Especially if a flight of stairs, as you say, makes no real difference to them." Why, Ravak being close to hand would make no real difference to a determined assassin who wanted Feroce's head. "By all means exert your authority before the Hall and the world at large - you represent the Blade of the Grey Tower. Our work is complex, and takes much of our time even without exiting the shining walls. You have plans for the Hall? Those ought to take priority over which room you sit in, but if this is as important as you feel it is... then we can discuss it with the Flame herself as well." Really they had more important things to be doing than pandering to the redheaded man's ego but if he was so determined, Feroce would not try to stop him. Just imply that he had more important matter to attend to.
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Re: Arm's Length (Ravak)

Post by Craig » June 2nd, 2017, 8:36 pm

Ravak
Ravak's nostrils flared as he exhaled loudly. "You're conflating the two issues." And he wasn't even going to dignify commenting on the Amyrlin Seat. Ravak didn't need Ninya's permission for anything, and neither did the Master of Arms. He wasn't sure which identity Feroce was playing his game against - maybe both - but he was never going to stoop so low to fanny about with Daes Dae'mar.

"I do not represent the Blade of the Grey Tower; I am the Blade of the Grey Tower." Thunderclouds were roiled in the Shienaran's mind, and were made evident in Ravak's voice. "And we three are part of a triumvirate, which is a group of three equals. Equals. Don't think your age nor your time in this office gives you any leverage or say over me. You've been M'Hael for months, and before then I didn't even know your name."

Rav wished some of the biscuit had got lodged in his teeth, so he could pick it out and flick it at the smarmy Cairhienin. Petty for sure, but Light so satisfying. As it was, he'd have to sustain himself on the mental image alone.

"Maybe I'll make the location of the Master of Arms' office my first request of the Hall. Then after that maybe we can get to the business of making some further changes. I've always wondered why, if we're all equals, that Gaidin don't have Ajahs. Surely if we're all equals then we should all have equal representation within the Ajahs."
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Re: Arm's Length (Ravak)

Post by Matty » June 5th, 2017, 12:14 pm

Ravak did not seem like a man who would fully understand or appreciate the finer points of symbolism and metaphor. His ego was so tied to his position that it clouded his judgement and it was going to be his downfall. Too much pride made a fellow careless.

"We represent the Grey Tower. The blade is an idea, a symbol, as are the flame and fang. We are nothing without the people we represent and protect." Feroce's voice was as calm as Ravak's was irate, did he really think it mattered whether he knew who Feroce was before his appointment as M'Hael? Feroce felt a brief temptation to remind the man he was a red-haired nobody before becoming whatever role he fancied on any given day - Feroce recognised his name from reports rather than meeting him in person - but it didn't matter. You took the position, you represented the people you once were. "Do not forget where you came from Ravak, it will alienate you from your cause."

It wasn't Feroce's age or time in office that made him better than Ravak, it was his intelligence and ability to look at an issue pragmatically. Being able to channel was really irrelevant when it came to determining Feroce's superiority, but it was charming that the Master of Arms chose to ignore this fact.

"If you want to present those issues to the Hall then by all means. I would not presume to tell you what to bring to the Hall's attention. I would simply encourage you to assess your priorities and what is important." Honestly, why did the man want an Ajah as well? Weren't all Gaidin simply Greens who wanted to wave their weapons around and stab the naughty Darkfriends? It reminded Feroce of his sisters, who wanted the same as everyone else because it was "fair", even if they didn't actually want or need it. A new dress, or a suitor, or an invitation to an event they had no interest in. Ravak wanted these things because they would help him feel more equal to his channelling counterparts, the Fang and Flame. Pandering his ego was all well and good, he could make a fool of himself in the Hall if he wanted, but they had a lot of more important business to attend to outside of this silliness.

The Hall has survived worse than Ravak, he reminded himself. Surely the man was trying to wind him up about Ajahs, though he would be hard pressed to rouse more than polite disdain from the former Grey.
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Re: Arm's Length (Ravak)

Post by Craig » June 12th, 2017, 8:11 am

Ravak
Perhaps it was the unbearably calm tone, or maybe it was the logic in Feroce's argument. Either way, Ravak's anger waned. The pettiness of his thoughts ebbed as he considered priorities, but not his priorities. He didn't want to impose his will on the Grey Tower for personal gain. He never had. Rav had served the Grey Tower in all things, first and foremost.

A blankness covered over his facial expression as he thought about what was important. Certainly not his office, although his points were still valid. And did he really wish to fight over whether Gaidin should be a part of Ajahs, because that definitely would be a fight. Instigating new bouts of Daes Dae'mar between channellers and non-channellers was far down on his to-do list.

"Carai an Aes," Rav murmured in broken Old Tongue.

What he said out loud was "Fine," which may have been an act of contrition or just an external voicing of his struggle to accept criticism. He didn't like Feroce any more just because he spoke a few words of wisdom. "I shall do what is important." Alone, if need be. Rav had maybe thought to find an ally in Feroce, if only because they were men, but apparently that was not to be the case. Being Cairhienin seemed to outweigh most other considerations, and being Asha'man didn't help his cause either. Well I can do this alone, or I can see if the Amyrlin is more biddable. That latter seemed unlikely, all reports considered. Ninya sounded like a fist of Trollocs bundled into a silk dress.

"Any more advice?" Ravak asked dryly. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't just barrel out of the M'Hael's office without a word. Feroce deserved, for his position alone, more decorum and respect than that.
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