Mehrin's Enlistment Interview

[Quibby]

Don't you just love being treated like a wide-eyed youngling seeing swordplay for the first time? How about this guard of yours? So arrogant for a man who is nothing but a glorified babysitter.

Maybe you should kill him and prove a point.

Shut up.

Mehrin was relieved when a second guard- Mordjen, he called himself- came to relieve him from Heb. It had been growing progressively harder to keep his burden quiet in the man's presence. The Deathwatch seemed to know when Mehrin hated a person, and he became even more vocal. It was a voice that Mehrin had not missed in the previous twenty years. It made sense, then, that it had come back; no good thing lasted forever. Unconsciously, Mehrin adjusted the flamberge across his shoulders. The black leather armor he wore felt alien and familiar at the same time, and even the long weeks of walking in it had not entirely acclimated himself to it again. It felt strange to have no Warder's cloak on his shoulders, either; the lack of its weight felt odd to him.

You're doing your guide a disservice, the dark voice whispered in the back of Mehrin's mind. Pay attention.

It was always amusing to hear people talking about how much they idolized the Warders and their abilities, and Mordjen had his own sense of awe for the men and women who trained in the yards at Hama Valon.

Hama Valon. Hah! Mehrin had known of the city when he had served as a Warder, but he had never dreamed that he would actually be there. Then again, he had never dreamed that he would be cast off from the Tower. Then again, he should not have been surprised when it happened; it was almost certainly inevitable. His thoughts were interrupted by the half-heard words of his guide: "...said she would be seeing to inviting me and some of the boys to a class with her trainees, so I am sure that will come about when it is right. Mistress Bryne is very good about things like that. She always wants to make sure that everyone in the Yards or associated with them has the chance to do their best." Mehrin nodded at that. The chance at some sense of equality with those who trained in the Yards had served well in the Warder Yards at the White Tower, and it made sense that the practice would exist here, too. It was amazing how many men and women in the Yard at the White Tower ended up as Warders with hardly any training in the Yard itself.

Speaking of the Yard... Mehrin looked around the grounds of the Warder Yard, shading his eyes against the glare of the sun. It was not as... established as the yard in the White Tower, but that came as no surprise to Mehrin. Three thousand years of use had a tendency to leave its mark on anything. However, establishment had no bearing on function, and the Warder Yard of Hama Valon was more than adequate for its needs. The blacksmith in him immediately recognized the smell of red-hot steel, oil, and steam from a forge. The urge to give up on everything and lose himself in the working of iron into steel was overwhelming.

Renalie.

The thought, voiced by himself and echoed by the Deathwatch, drew Mehrin back to reality, just in time to receive a pat on the shoulder from Mordjen and another welcome to the Grey Tower. Just as well; as polite and as enthusiastic as the man was, Mehrin was beginning to find him tedious, and the Deathwatch was in agreement. Giving the much younger man a nod and a smile that he really did not feel, Mehrin strode into the building to face his future.

Mehrin stopped a short distance away from the open door, his hand straying to the weapons hanging around his body. He had no doubt that nobody would offer him any sort of threat, but even twenty years of not touching a weapon that he was not forging did not completely dispel some habits. He knew why he was in this place, but he was also self-conscious about it. He was nearly sixty years old, wearing armor and wielding a sword that was more suited to a younger man. Still... Mehrin was not as good as he once was, but he was good enough to build a reputation among the young men in the Yard. Who knew? There may have been men in the Yard here who had heard of him.

He also had the double-edged advantage of the Deathwatch. Of course you do. We have been together for far too long to break up now, haven't we?

Shut up.

Steeling himself, Mehrin approached the open door. Maybe if he jumped through enough hoops, he would find the answers he needed to kill the right men.

OOC: Mehrin is here, in his mind, to make a deal for information. He is willing to pay any price if it means having the revenge he wants. He's not new to being in important people's presence, so he's probably not going to be intimidated. Even without the multiple personality disorder thing, he's incredibly cynical, and not likely to buy empty promises. Not sure if any of this helps, but there it is.

[Bree]

Ubriel let the boot report drop back to the stack as she let her gaze turn to greet the newcomer. "Come in. Can I help you?" She had seen a vast assortment of men and women cross her threshold. The youngest was Coga, a boy from her own home town who had been orphaned by the Shaido Aiel and who had decided to pursue training with them in the hopes that he would never be defenseless when his loved ones were threatened ever again. The oldest was a woman in her thirties who was close-lipped about what brought her to the Tower but she trained hard and had a ferocity that left no doubt in Ubriel as to her determination. This man, however, was something altogether new.

He was old. Almost as old as Rory. Still, he had never been idle. The strength and control in the way this man moved belied the hard muscle covered by the armor he wore. There was something not quite right though. As if he were wearing a pair of new shoes that had not quite been broken in; custom made to fit but not yet comfortable. Ubriel moved to the pitcher of tea near the window and poured two cups. She set one on the low table between the two chairs arranged to face each other and gestured for the man to take a seat and the cup. Ubriel was immediately intrigued and could not say why. The man had the grace and confidence of one who knew how best to make use of that beast of a blade on his back. At the same time he had the eyes of a man who was not entirely certain he was safe.

"I am Ubriel. I am the Mistress of Training here. People usually come to see me if they want to engage in training or take up residence in these halls. Will you be in need of either?" Feeling the need to be polite as to the elders of her own village, she sipped her tea standing, waiting for the man to take a seat first.

OOC: I am pleased to see you finally here. Ubriel is a straight shooter and generally what you see is what you get. Mehrin will find that if he says what he means, he will get clearer answers faster. Sorry for taking a couple of days, real life got crazy. I am usually pretty quick to answer though so if I ever leave you waiting, feel free to poke me with a PM and get my attention.

[Quibby]

Based on the one-way conversation with Mordjen and his own experience, Mehrin was not surprised by the fact that Mistress Bryne was a woman. What surprised him, however, was her age; most of the people of rank at the White Tower had been more mature than the young woman behind the desk in the office. Well, 'mature' may have been the wrong word; Mehrin could think of a few people who had ranked above him who had been incredibly childish. 'Older' was probably a better word. Nonetheless, it was obvious from her stance, even standing still, that the woman before him knew what she was about. She could probably have beaten me black and blue at my best, he thought.

You, maybe. Against me, she would have been screaming for mercy, a wretched ball of tears curled up on the ground.

No, not a chance. Neither of us was ever that good. It's a moot point, anyway; neither of us is a match for her now, if I'm judging her correctly.

Mehrin hid the lapse in conversation by quickly observing the room. Nobody hiding in the corners. No obvious traps. Nothing to worry about. Mehrin sighed, releasing tension that he had never noticed, and accepted the proffered cup of tea from Mistress Bryne.

Mistress Bryne wasted no time. Still standing, she introduced herself, "I am Ubriel. I am the Mistress of Training here. People usually come to see me if they want to engage in training or take up residence in these halls. Will you be in need of either?"

After twenty years of village life, Mehrin had become accustomed to directness. He had expected more circumspect conversation now that he had returned to a more urban environment; Ubriel's to-the-point question was a relief. Offering a smile that did not quite reach all the way to his eyes and tugged at the scar on his face, Mehrin said, "No nonsense. I like it." It dawned on Mehrin that there might be something keeping Ubriel from sitting. You're old, you idiot! She's respecting her elders.

Shut up.

Mehrin cleared his throat to hide the exchange, then continued. "I'm here for information, mostly, but I know Aes Sedai. There is always a price. I'll try to keep this brief, but there are some things you need to know before we can proceed.

"I was a Warder until the end of the Aiel War, where I adopted an orphaned girl and retired to raise her." Tell her about the murders, the dead civilians. Better yet, let me tell her. Ignoring the voice, Mehrin pressed on. "A couple months ago, raiders murdered my daughter. The last survivor suggested that it was part of something larger, but he... didn't make it... long enough to give me answers." Noticing that his gaze had drifted to the floor, Mehrin returned his eyes to Mistress Bryne's face, trying to gauge her response as he continued. "I'm here to find out why she died and who is responsible. I will do anything to gain that information."

Giving a shrug that moved the flamberge on his shoulders, Mehrin nodded to the weapon and said, "I'm not as good as I once was, and I don't know how good I can be again, but I need to be as sharp as I can be if I'm going to do what has to be done. Tar Valon won't have me, so I'm here to offer whatever I can."

Bravo. That went better than all of those rehearsals you did on the walk here. Maybe you should give up the sword and become an orator.

And where would that leave you?

The same place it left me when you decided to be a blacksmith.

[Bree]

Ubriel listened carefully and nodded where appropriate. He is hiding things. At his age, if I haven't got a secret or two myself, I will be highly disappointed in myself. Ubriel gestured to the seats around the low tea table and said, "Please, take a seat. I didn't catch your name." She suited herself to her own invitation and perched lightly in the chair closest to her. "I am sorry to hear about your daughter. You have my condolences."

Ubriel sipped at her tea and thought about what the man before her had said. "You said you were previously a warder. Did your bond-mate release you from the bond or are you still technically bonded? It is not common for a bond to be released but much less so for a warder to survive the death of their channeler. Do you have another, primary obligation elsewhere than this Tower?"

Ubriel thought about what she would do in this man's place. Raise a child and then be left with the barest of clues to seek justice for the child's death; she began to feel that stinging sensation in the back of her throat and the corner of her eyes. She sipped her tea. She had never been emotional like this. Not until recently. It had started when she got back from her honeymoon. She couldn't figure out what was wrong with her but if it turned out to be some fool thing Zacharyn had done to her with his One Power ways, she was going to feed him forkroot and string him up. Well, maybe not that, but she would certainly find a way to make him pay for it.

She cleared her throat and looked back at the man before her to pay attention to what he said. She didn't think it would do to stuff him into a Drin'far'ji uniform but if he wanted to train... She was going to have to figure out exactly what rank he qualified for. She asked him many questions over the course of their exchange, "Did you train at the White Tower and attain the fancloth cloak before being bonded or after? Or did you train there at all? What amount of training do you think you will want to pursue? Did you ever study unarmed combat and to what degree?" She finally asked him, "Do you wish to become an initiate of this Warder Yard? Do you want to make this your home and are you willing to defend these walls from any threats that may come against them?"

OOC: I know I just threw a bunch of questions at you. You can play it out as you wish. I am giving you the gist of what Ubriel needs to know to get you set up in the Tower. You can use this as a spring board to help establish your weapons skill level, which Benefits and Talents you might have and, of course, to get a room in the dorm. After this, I will be taking you on a brief tour and give you some of the basic info you will need to navigate the Warder Yard. If you want to join as a Drin or a Ji, that's fine with me. But I would say you should sign up as a full rank Gaidin coming out of retirement and then just take the refresher classes and some training spars.

[Quibby]

Your people skills have not changed a bit. Give her the depressing details of your life and forget to tell her your bloody name. Have you gone senile?

You should know; you're in there.

Shaking his head in frustration, Mehrin said, "Of course. Names. They're quite helpful, aren't they? Well, mine's Mehrin. Mehrin Mahrvon." After twenty years, it still felt almost as natural as breathing when Mehrin lifted his sword from the harness on his back. He turned long enough to find a convenient spot for the weapon, then accepted the offered seat. Along with the pulling of the buckles and straps of his armor, Mehrin was reminded of his age; minor aches and pains clamored for his attention, but he stilled them with practiced ease. One of the joys of growing old.

When he was seated comfortably, the questions began. Mistress Bryne led with the obvious one: "You said you were previously a warder. Did your bond-mate release you from the bond or are you still technically bonded? It is not common for a bond to be released but much less so for a warder to survive the death of their channeler. Do you have another, primary obligation elsewhere than this Tower?"

"I knew the Aes Sedai who bonded me for three years before the bond took place, and we were bonded for fourteen years after that." Mehrin chose his next words carefully. "The day I adopted my daughter was the same day that she released the bond. I really could not give you a reason why, but it was done in anger and neither one of us looked back." Pausing for a sigh, he added, "This is a very tender subject for me; please forgive me if I don't say anything more." Come on, tell her! Tell her how many people we killed together! She'll love it!

Shut up.

With a shake of his head, he concluded, "The bond is severed, I am unwelcome in Tar Valon, and my daughter is dead. Aside from what I've already told you about the circumstances behind her death, I have no commitments."

Mehrin was afraid that Mistress Bryne- he refused to think of her by her first name until he knew exactly where he stood- was going to press the subject, but instead she continued the interview. "Did you train at the White Tower and attain the fancloth cloak before being bonded or after? Or did you train there at all?"

Safe ground. "I began training when I was old enough to hold a stick. My father was a Shienaran Blightguard, retired due to injuries that left him limited in what he could do. I did not realize what he was doing at the time. When I left home at seventeen, I fell in with a mercenary group. They specialized as heavy infantry, mostly two-handed swords, and they continued my training. I was a front-line soldier for six years there before I met Anara, the Aes Sedai who eventually bonded me."

Mehrin paused for a moment to take a sip of his tea, savoring it and letting it trickle slowly down his throat. It was hard to find good tea when living in an isolated village, and the peddlers' prices were outrageous. "I spent the fourteen years I was bonded training in the Tower, both hand-to-hand and sword. It didn't take me long to develop a rather grim reputation." Mehrin chuckled. Or maybe it was the Deathwatch. He could not say; it had been more gleeful than he had wanted. "Anyway... I learned to fight on the front lines, where there are no rules. I have a rudimentary understanding of the sword forms, but I use that to beat them apart and engage on my terms. The proud students of the Tower thought to take advantage of me when I first came to them to learn. The first one made the mistake of blocking a strike instead of deflecting it, and I broke his wrist. Another tried to engage fast and close, and I broke his jaw with my hilt." The memories brought a grim smile to Mehrin's face, which he quickly hid. "I received further training on the battlefield during the Aiel War. Anara was a Yellow, so she went out to help the refugees and the wounded while I fought to keep the Aiel back. Fighting Aiel is hard; they're fast, and they know how to use every single one of their weapons, and I include their bodies as weapons. It was... humbling at times." With a snort, Mehrin concluded, "Bah, I'm just becoming an old man recounting his war stories. Catch me in a social setting, and I might actually go into detail."

"What amount of training do you think you will want to pursue?"

That was a simple question. "I will learn whatever you will permit me to learn. Just don't expect me to take up archery or warhorse training. I'm too old to be learning too many new tricks."

"Did you ever study unarmed combat, and to what degree?"

A wistful smile came over Mehrin's face. "Tral was a tavern strong arm, and he started teaching me some of the tricks of the trade , both with a knife and without. He died before I could learn everything he had to teach, unfortunately, but he taught me enough that I had some advantage when the mercenaries were teaching me how to combine unarmed combat with sword combat." Mehrin's smile faded, replaced by a grim mask. "I was an above-average fighter unarmed, though I always did better with some sort of weapon in my hand in combination. I was reminded of that just recently..."

Remembering that night brought the rage back, and the Deathwatch rode its crest, pushing further into Mehrin's psyche, trying to overcome him. It was a struggle, but he managed to fight it back down again. Hoping that Mistress Bryne would take it as a sign of grief, Mehrin simply said, "I'm sorry."

The interview paused for a moment while Mehrin gathered himself again. You used to be so much more fun. When he felt confident in his self-control again, he nodded, and Mistress Bryne continued. "Do you wish to become an initiate of this Warder Yard? Do you want to make this your home and are you willing to defend these walls from any threats that may come against them?"

Mehrin hesitated only a moment before nodding. "I do. I owe Renalie a debt that must be repaid, and this is probably the only place in the world that will have me. I want to learn what I can to pay that debt." Mehrin paused for a moment, rubbing the back of his head, unsure of how to continue. Finally, he said, "I also don't want what I know to die with me. I feel that I offer a unique set of talents that can be used to improve the caliber of your trainees. I want to be useful. In a way, it will grant me some sense of purpose."

Mehrin smiled, feeling the Deathwatch smile with him, as he added his response to Mistress Bryne's final question: "I will make the Grey Tower my home, and I almost hope that somebody gives me a reason to defend it."

OOC: In regards to the rank question, I agree with the Gaidin recommendation, as long as we can come to some way to make it fair to everybody else. Based on the post, though, I'll leave that decision to you.

Okay, wall of text over.

[Bree]

Ubriel nodded as Mehrin made his answers. Somewhere in the midst of his interview, she had drained her tea and got up to refill it. She brought the pitcher back and refilled his cup as well. She retrieved a notebook and a pen from her desk and brought them back with her. Taking notes she wondered if he had the skill and experience to teach combat training and leadership. Some kind of proper class teaching sword to some standard would be good to have as well. As things stood, most of the fools who came in claiming to be able to handle a sword barely knew which end was the sharp one. All of their training was one on one and they were at the mercy of the individual trainer to show them the best they knew. She made note of the sometime gleam in his eyes that would flash so quickly to irritation or embarrassment when she could see no cause for it. The kind of powerful strikes that he described sounded like a matter less of skill and more of luck and brute force at the beginning of his training. She wanted to see him in training.

She was glad to hear him declare his desire to make the Grey Tower his home. The fact that the bond had been released was odd but should not cause him any problems. That he wanted to teach was even better. "I believe we can offer you the same rank of Gaidin and a room here in the Gaidin hall. You will earn a stipend and all of your basic food, clothing and such will be provided. I would like to ask you to consider teaching a few certain topics. We do not have a formal standard basic swordmanship class and I believe it would be in the trainees' best interest to have one. Also, you said you worked as a mercenary as well as serving in the Aiel War. I wonder if you would agree to instructing a couple of classes in tactics and combat and warfare. We try to give the trainees here a chance to get experience in everything they might need but that means we need to make use of the experience initiates bring back to us."

Ubriel caught Mehrin's eyes and nodded to punctuate her words. She then stood with steady grace and strode back to her desk. Opening her ledger she began to fill in the next blank space. She pulled the tab from the side of the new recruit entry and beckoned to Mehrin. "If you will join me, sign your name here," she waited for Mehrin to join her and then pointed to a blank line, handing the pen to the man beside her. "Then I can get your room assigned to you and order some uniforms for you and some boots." She eyed his travel worn footwear and smiled kindly. "This is not a contract or pledge of any kind, only an acknowledgment that staying here requires a minimum standard of conduct and the like. Very basic things. You of course will not be required to take any specific classes but I am going to show you around the Yard and make sure you have all the information that you will need if you decide to take a refresher in anything."

Ubriel waited for Mehrin to sign and then picked up her steel banded, black quarterstaff, Al'Doondieb. Leading the way to the door, she asked, "Do you have any questions for me regarding any of the standards, rules, classes or anything so far?" She leaned over to the bowl shaped basket next to the visitor log on the table beside the door and dropped the order ticket into it. By the time they were done with their tour of the Yard, the order ticket would have been filled and Mehrin's rooms readied. She looked back to Mehrin to wait for him to join her.

OOC: So we are going to go see the other two main buildings and the training and exercise yard. I will leave you at your new room at the end of the tour. If you are interested in any specific classes or training in something that is not listed as a class, just have him ask and I will try to find you a trainer. Alternately, if you want to look for something on your own, you can always leave a want ad post in the OOC boards.

As for the classes Ubriel asked him about, I do think that any of these classes would be useful additions to our curriculum. We have two basic formats that we use most of the time. A regular multi-session class and a lecture type class. Members can also earn skills through using archived classes to write a "class-fic" where they basically write about taking the class in whatever format is easiest for them. For your specific skills, I would recommend that you consider one of these methods for earning them IC. Writing a class would be the most useful to the Tower and would count toward earning a loyalty rating. But the class-fics and taking the RP classes will work to earn those skill points as well.

Now would be a good time to start sending in those "chapters" of your bio-background as well. If you want to use them to earn Benefits or Weapon Skill points such as sword or unarmed or Berserker or Dirty Fighting, you can find the requisites listed on the Benefits page. If you need any help with any of this, feel free to send me a PM. I should be more available for the next week as things at work have calmed down a bit.

[Quibby]

Mehrin nodded. Experienced people were the best teachers, and the best leaders. He recalled one thin young man, a son of some lord or another who had gained his leadership of a troop of soldiers during the Aiel War. He had known everything that the books told him, and he believed it all. He had actually had the audacity to tell people, veterans of the war, no less, that they were using their weapons wrong and that they were not fighting 'honorably'. Mehrin had not shed a tear when the Aiel gutted him, but he had been furious that he had led every single skilled soldier under his command to their pointless deaths. "Better a coarse soldier than a fine-spoken lordling without a clue," he said in response. "I can teach what you're suggesting as long as you don't expect me to teach battle planning or logistics. I was never involved in the actual direction of a battle."

He waited patiently as Mistress Bryne filled out some paperwork. Remember when they tried to make you fill out paperwork? That was a bloody disaster.

It was, wasn't it?

And now you've volunteered to be a teacher! the Deathwatch whispered gleefully. Guess what will probably come with that?

Mehrin swallowed reflexively, then noticed that Mistress Bryne was beckoning to him to come to the desk. He joined her, taking a moment to glance through what he could see. "This is not a contract or pledge of any kind," she said as Mehrin took a closer look at what he was signing, "only an acknowledgment that staying here requires a minimum standard of conduct and the like. Very basic things. You of course will not be required to take any specific classes but I am going to show you around the Yard and make sure you have all the information that you will need if you decide to take a refresher in anything." Mehrin nodded, not saying anything. Refresher courses would, of course, be necessary. He needed to reestablish his relationship to his body and weapons, and his knowledge of the world was twenty years out of date. Sign it. Use them to get what you want: revenge. I'll help you.

Of course you will. You're always there when there's blood to be shed.

True, but remember: you're not the only one who lost Renalie.

What?

The Deathwatch went silent as Mehrin scrawled his name in the register, confused. He turned from the desk as Mistress Bryne picked up what must have been her weapon of choice, a banded quarterstaff, and headed towards the door. As she walked, she asked, "Do you have questions for me regarding any of the standards, rules, classes or anything so far?"

"I imagine that I'll have questions as we go along," Mehrin replied, "but I don't have anything right now." His hand wrapped around the hilt of his flamberge, drawing a sigh from the still-quiet Deathwatch, and with practiced ease he settled it back into its harness. "Lead the way, Mistress Bryne."

[Bree]

Ubriel led the way back down stairs and out of the back of the building into an expansive yard with hard packed dirt and sparse grass where trainees and teachers were sparring or practicing or simply exercising in small groups, pairs or occasionally alone. “Most of the classes for weapon skills and all of the spars are conducted here in the Yard. Occasionally, or if there is a vast amount of bad weather, some of the unarmed classes may be conducted in the gymnasium rooms inside. All of the tactics and history and other academic lessons are conducted in the classrooms inside.” Ubriel led them over to a group practicing unarmed combat styles. “One of the required lessons for all of our trainees is Unarmed Combat. That class is offered at all times for beginners and as a refresher.” She gestured around at the other types of training happening loudly all over the yards. “Trainees usually need to choose another fighting style to train in. We recommend that they begin with the weapon that they intend to use as their primary. You have been hefting that great two-handed monstrosity," she gestured to the flamberge on his back, "But what is your trained combat style?" Ubriel paused to allow him to take in the scene of the women and men fighting with long quarterstaves and other distance weapons and the group doing target practice with their ranged weapons. There were several groups of trainees practicing sword and shield melee as well as a few performing advanced techniques with more exotic weapons like the axe, cudgel, hammer and even a graceful woman using fans.

After a moment or so, Ubriel gestured to the right of them and led the way around the edge of the yard to a smaller building there. “This building is the weaponry hall. There are racks and racks of various sorts of weaponry, field and practice models, available for use. You will need to get the permission of the Master of Weapons to remove any of them. The hall is open during the day.” She stopped before the door and opened it, leading them inside.

The inside of the building was like a library. Instead of the stacks of books, there were rows and rows of sorted and arranged weaponry. One rack held nothing but a variety of two handed bastard swords and the rack next to it held the same sword in a practice variety. There were other racks with polearms of various types and another with axes. One held an assortment of short bows with their cousin longbows two racks over. All together they made for a shiny and dazzling spectacle.

[OOC: You can find more weapon descriptions Weapon Descriptions. If you are ever interested in something that you do not see a class or an available instructor for, PM me or any of the admin team and we can help you find a trainer or an alternative if none is available.]

Ubriel nodded and smiled. “I myself came here with a quarterstaff. I thought I was good with it, but a few weeks here robbed me of that illusion. I have learned more than I ever thought was out there to learn.” She gestured back outside. They crossed the practice yard to the opposite side and Ubriel said, “This is the armory. If you decide that you need any new armor of any sort or a repair, this will be the place that you go to have it designed and fitted. The real forges are elsewhere on Tower grounds but you won’t need to go there if you don’t want to.” Ubriel opened the door and led the way inside. She waved at an old man sitting in one corner in a very comfortable looking chair and polishing a breast plate. He seemed to ignore her entirely.

Lining the walls of the room they entered were various examples of full suits of armor of every type and style. There were leather and padded suits and jerkins, full and half plate, chain and scale mail and various types of helmetry all there for display and inspection.

[OOC: There is a fair bit of useful description of armor at Armor Descriptions. Let me know if you need help finding a specific piece. If you want to write about actually visiting the forges, I have written of them being "past the building" or "Out at the forges" to keep it vague but always describe them as being out of the Yard and past the Tower proper a bit farther West not quite to the wood.
That is going to conclude the grounds tour so if you want to initiate a spar to establish skill or if you want to talk about some of your fighting style a little more in depth, you can start that now. I will conclude the thread with taking you to your room when you are ready.]

[Quibby]

Quietly, Mehrin followed Mistress Bryne out of the office and down a flight of stairs, back into the yard. Indicating the yard, Mistress Bryne said, “Most of the classes for weapon skills and all of the spars are conducted here in the Yard. Occasionally, or if there is a vast amount of bad weather, some of the unarmed classes may be conducted in the gymnasium rooms inside. All of the tactics and history and other academic lessons are conducted in the classrooms inside." Mehrin nodded, though he had the feeling that he would be introducing some students to harsh weather training. He had been cold, miserable, and occasionally sick, but it was good training for the discomfort of the elements. Really? I hated it.

Mistress Bryne's attention focused on one of the groups of trainees, each going through barehanded motions, unarmed training. “One of the required lessons for all of our trainees is Unarmed Combat. That class is offered at all times for beginners and as a refresher."

"Good to hear," Mehrin replied. "I could use some some more practice."

Of course you could. We need to be at our best if we're going to kill every single person involved in that little raid, aren't we?

We'll discuss that when the time comes.

Mehrin suddenly became aware that he had been asked a question. He scrabbled madly through his memory. Fighting style, idiot.

Thank you.

"I won't lie, it is not a pretty sight." He lifted the flamberge off his shoulders, holding it in front of him, between himself and Mistress Bryne. "I am aware that you can use any sword with the sword forms with only some small adjustments. That is not how I learned, though." Setting the point of his blade against the hardened ground, he leaned on the cross guard. "Front line combat can be far different from the sword forms. There were many men with the Blue Coats, the mercenary group I was with, who used them, and they were good soldiers. There were others of us, though, who were more... primal." Kicking the flat of his blade suddenly, Mehrin brought the blade into a cross-body guard. "We learned to use the entire weapon, as well as using our hands and feet in combination when in close quarters. Eye gouges, head butts, kicks to the ba- to sensitive places, as well as shoves and throws. In close, I'm just as likely to punch somebody in the nose as I am to aim a blow at their head." Twisting the flamberge in his hands, Mehrin gripped it on the leather band between the cross guard and the crescent moon-shaped spikes on the waving blade. "As you can see, this sword has a few little tricks. These spikes, for instance, do really bad things when introduced to somebody's face. The hilt, cross guard, and pommel serve well as a light club, and the blade itself?" Mehrin gestured to the wave in the blade. "This blade is more effective versus polearms, but it serves its purpose against other weapons. Anything going along the blade catches those waves and slows down, making it easier to follow up with something unpleasant." And me! Don't forget about me and the rage and the bloodlust! I'm just as much a weapon as that sword!

Yes, but she doesn't need to know about you yet.

Yet...

Mehrin thought about flourishing the blade one last time, but instead slowly set it back in its place. "It is really hard to describe fully. I'll be happy to show you sometime, though, as long as you or whoever chooses to spar with me understands that there will be no elegance to what I will do."

There was a moment of silence before Mistress Bryne turned her attention back to the tour. She led them across the busy yard and into one of the two buildings that Mordjen had pointed out to him. The smell of oil and wood polish told him what he would see when he stepped through the door, but the sight was still damned impressive. Racks of weapons lined the walls and ran throughout the room. Eyes trained for years in the forge noticed the lack of gleam on the edges of about half of the weapons, weapons made for training. Mehrin felt an overwhelming urge to simply walk through the building, the same urge he had felt when he had first seen the White Tower's assortment of weapons. Mistress Bryne was saying something, but it was difficult for Mehrin to focus. Such work! He wanted to examine it all.

Stop staring. She's leaving. Follow her.

But... but...

I know, but we'll be here for a long time. Patience.

“This is the armory. If you decide that you need any new armor of any sort or a repair, this will be the place that you go to have it designed and fitted. The real forges are elsewhere on Tower grounds but you won’t need to go there if you don’t want to." As the smell of oil and polish had told him what the first building had held, the scent of leather told him what was behind the doors of the second one. Mehrin had chosen not to use the heavy armor that was most commonly used on the front line; the fact that he was still alive spoke to both skill and, to a somewhat greater degree, luck on the field. Still, the blacksmith in him was struck speechless once again by the armory. Sluggishly, Mehrin replied, "I thought I smelled forges when I came here. Is there any chance that I could, you know, work there during my free time?"

I think I'm going to like it here.

You, too?

Certainly. Learning to do, weapons to see, people to maim...

Shut up.

[Bree]

Ubriel was still considering what he had said about the down and dirty fighting technique that he was most prone to using. She had never really seen such in person, unless she counted that first night in Hama Valon when that unfortunate tavern had been burned. She had seen flying bowls of stew used as weapons then. And chairs. And one unconscious man... Still, she had not seen it in true combat. A tavern brawl was not the same. She made a decision as they turned back toward the Hall to personally evaluate some of this Mehrin's fighting technique before turning him loose on the youngest recruits. She was thinking specifically of Coga then. The boy was barely double digits, an orphan from her own home town. He was still getting his feet under him and his training was heavy on academics yet.

Lifting her staff in both hands high above her head she stretched as she walked. "You can use the forges anytime you want. My..." What to call him..."friend, Zacharyn, one of the Dedicated, spends a great deal of time in there. He made all of my favored weapons. He has a Talent for making intricately wrought pieces. I am sure he will happily tell you all about it if you ask him. You can find them by following the path that way. Just follow the sound of ringing metal and the smell of "hot"." She grinned as she gestured off past the Tower and toward the trees across the Yard. She kept walking and led him into the Hall. Heading back up the stairs and turning toward the new rooms, built with the expansion of the Hall and since the influx of students had resulted in more full ranked Gaidin. She led him to a dark oak door standing open to a room obviously built for a single occupant.

Ubriel took the chain from where it hung on the door knob and handed it to Mehrin. "This will be your room. There are other Gaidin and Gaidar housed on this floor, some of them with families. I live at the far end of the main hall. You have two keys there," She gestured to the chain she had just handed him. "All of the three administrators and the head housekeeper have a copy of the room keys in case of emergency but your privacy is secure here."

She beckoned him to follow as she walked on into the room. There was a wide bed built for comfort, a desk and two chests, a wardrobe and a fireplace. There was also a dining table with two chairs in one corner and two comfortable armchairs in another. Three stand lamps stood around the spacious apartment and a case clock stood on the mantel. "You will find several uniforms, two pair of boots and other necessities in the wardrobe. If you need anything you can leave a message for the housekeeping staff and they will get it for you or tell you where to find it." Looking around, Ubriel nodded. That covered everything nicely.

"The mess hall is downstairs and is open throughout the day and night. We tend to work up appetites that the channelers never will. You can feel free to explore anywhere on the grounds except the ajah quarters. They get prickly if you are wandering too far into their domain without cause. If you don't have any questions, I will leave you to get settled in."

OOC: There are going to be two windows in this room design and the fireplace is on an interior side wall so the chimney is shared by the neighboring room. Feel free to decide for yourself if you have a view of the Tower, the Yard or the woods. I will eventually and one day get around to commissioning the redesign of the second floor layout graphics to accommodate these rooms...
Unless you have other questions or plans, you are done here. With the submission of your background fics, you can use this thread and those to apply for the Dirty Fighting Benefit and probably the Berserker Benefit. Welcome to the Warder Yard.