Reflections

The everyday life of the inhabitants of the Grey Tower. This board is for general daily roleplay around the Tower, in the corridors, rooms and halls that make up most of the building.
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Andy
"A Crown of Swords"
Posts: 611
Joined: February 4th, 2017, 11:16 pm
PC: Alrim Farshera Gaidin
Location: UK

Reflections

Post by Andy » August 22nd, 2017, 6:20 am

He had decided to take some time off, recent events had landed a blow of some form or other and if he knew anything it was that there was no point pushing himself when it wasn't required. Healers could do much but they couldn't help with the feeling of tiredness and the black notion that he was somehow destined to find himself injured in service more often than not. No, he wasn't going to be teaching anyone today and he wasn't planning of leaving his quarters either. If anyone needed him for pressing matters then they could find him. They knew where he was.

"Just so long as the Seanchan don't lay siege" he muttered to himself as he stared into the middle-distance, ankles crossed upon a stool and a table laden with food and drink next to him.

It was funny, how the room had slowly become his own. He had not given it much thought at first, it had been just another place to sleep. Now though there were artefacts upon the walls, weapons and items of interest Klarick had sent him. A few items from the Farshera holdings for memory's sake. Where one had been now only wood existed - they were no longer family. A small cabinet held bottle of one type or another and the wardrobe was filling up slowly with clothing. Several boots were scattered around the bed and the rugs upon the floor were warm if not the richest of quality. He had been so busy doing his job that he hadn't really taken stock of himself.

"Never did look after myself much" he sighed as he picked up a letter and read it again.

Even so he hadn't expected being a Gaidin to be as dangerous as it had proven. He knew there would be risks, he was no fool, but one thing after another. Surprise ambushes and more. Perhaps there was some plot at work by the Pattern that he could not see. It had not been all bad, he supposed. He had met new people, interesting and delightful people. And, of course, he had improved his skills here he could. Paks told him he had a fan club but he wished he didn't. Girls did not interest him, women were better. He wondered with brief amusement if he could get Paks to make them like someone else. Maybe get Haeden's shirt off for them, that'd turn their heads surely.

He chuckled to himself as he sipped the brandy, bed sheet draped around his shoulders and trousers the concession to decency.
~
Arafel Will Rise, Kick Matty's Butt & Be Totally The Most Awesome Land Evar
~

User avatar
Andy
"A Crown of Swords"
Posts: 611
Joined: February 4th, 2017, 11:16 pm
PC: Alrim Farshera Gaidin
Location: UK

Re: Reflections

Post by Andy » August 22nd, 2017, 3:52 pm

Even though he had no plans to leave his rooms it didn't mean he was giving up every part of his routine. The simpler things that involved little but care and attention were still to be fulfilled. The rhythmic whisk of whetstone upon steel filled the room. A Gaidin who paid no attention to his weapons soon found himself without them and probably no longer breathing. His gaze was attentive but warm as he sharpened the family sword. He still had not found out what the symbol on the cross guard meant but he did know that he had almost lost the weapon, along with his life, to Whitecloaks.

A humbling experience.

Was it worth it? he asked himself, the echo of a dear friend's question.

He had answered her with what he was as the truth but even he had a difficult time ignoring the fact that it was a hard truth. There was no compromise in a Gaidin's life. You stood or you stood aside. And in his mind if you stood aside you were no Gaidin. It made for a worthwhile reason for living but it had its own doses of pain and suffering. He was a young one by all standards and he knew that well enough. He didn't even want to guess at how much the older ones could tell him about such matters. Would he feel the same in ten years? If he survived that long?

Probably...though I suppose it depends what I do between now and then. It only stays worth it if you do worthy things he mused to himself.

He looked down the edge of the blade and, satisfied, sheathed it once more and moved on to the daggers in his lap. Simple things these were but they got the job done. An apt description for himself too, he smiled to the room wryly. Not fancy, not noble, just...him. And he was good at what he did. He knew now, putting old ghosts to rest a bit, that he would have made his father proud. That much was certain even if he had not heard it from the man's mouth directly.

"Funny really, that it's common people who'll be fighting for the last time" he muttered to himself as the whisk sounds began once more.

What truly nagged at him, though, were not philosophical questions. For once. What made him wonder now were things more practical. What would he do with himself now he had made it to where he wanted to be? Should he now try to actively find someone to share the Bond with? Would it be a good idea to try to get more involved with the day to day running of the Yards in an effort to turn around more wayward rogues? Several meetings with several people of late had made such questions loom large. He couldn't know which direction to take his life without resolving such thoughts with himself.

It was not enough, now, to simply be. He required purpose.
~
Arafel Will Rise, Kick Matty's Butt & Be Totally The Most Awesome Land Evar
~

User avatar
Andy
"A Crown of Swords"
Posts: 611
Joined: February 4th, 2017, 11:16 pm
PC: Alrim Farshera Gaidin
Location: UK

Re: Reflections

Post by Andy » September 7th, 2017, 8:08 pm

As he considered the question of the Warder Yards, sipping upon his brandy, the letters now all done and the quill resting neatly in the inkwell, he felt as if it was something he had already thought upon. Not in the usual way, the solid and meaningful consideration of purposeful thought, but in the deeper way, subconscious and almost instinctive. There was a shape there already, a shell perhaps, which he need only agree to fill and the matter would be resolved. He could walk tall, try to gain rank - Master of Training or the like - and transform where he could.

So why don't I? he was wondering to himself, over and over within his skull.

Of course he could fail and never achieve such an aim but that was not what held him back, that much was clear to him. He was not scared of failure. He hated it but he also recognised that it was only through his failures that he learned how to be better. No, he knew that it didn't matter in the long run. He was adaptable and bloody-minded enough to find other ways to help others or ways around the status quo to help change it. Harder way, but way all the same.

A suspicion harking back to a conversation with a certain channeller tickled at the back of his mind and tugged a trail of similar statements made over a long period of time. He was hard on himself, he knew that but it was something he couldn't change. It was how he kept himself decent and as respectable as he could manage. Still...he had to admit it led to him thinking quite poorly of himself. Was this why he was tentative about making any major commitments? Was he afraid of not being good enough?

To his chagrin and burning cheeks he suspected that he was and it left a sour taste in his mouth.

"Burn it all" he muttered to himself as he knocked back the rest of his cup and filled it once more.

He was no pup, not anymore. He had faced a Trolloc siege, stolen a battering ram in a battle, helped destroy raiding parties, thwarted Darkfriend assassins and danced with Aes Sedai - a most dangerous past time indeed some would say. He would sooner die than let his own fears control his destiny. He remembered the talk he had had with Zeen and his resolve firmed further. The Pattern put him at the Tower for a reason. He knew not what that reason was but he was sure he would not find out by keeping in the background and trying not to get noticed too much whilst doing what he could in the fight.

Battles were different, he had no choice about getting involved in those. This was his own choice instead. Something that he didn't have to do but wanted to do. It would put him at risk in some way, politics of course, but he disliked thinking himself the coward.

"Fine...I'll try" he muttered to himself, "and fail trying if so be it"
~
Arafel Will Rise, Kick Matty's Butt & Be Totally The Most Awesome Land Evar
~

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