In the Pale Moonlight (Fanfic)

Hama Valon, the city around the Grey Tower.
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Welcome to Hama Valon! The aptly named 'mountain guard' is the city that has grown up at the gates of the Grey Tower at the western edge of the Two Rivers. Like all cities, there are quiet quarters with pleasant inns, such as Elman's Creek, which used to be the nearest village when the Tower was young, but was absorbed as the new city grew; its Band of Brothers Inn is still a favorite relaxation spot for many of the Tower's denizens. And again, like all cities the world over, there are less pleasant places--narrow, nameless streets that house hells and other houses of ill repute. Most of the city falls somewhere in between, with hawkers crying their wares in the streets, respectable shopkeepers ready to serve you, and petty cutpurses happy to follow you.

Novices, Soldiers, and drin'far'ji must be accompanied by a chaperon when outside Tower walls or they risk being picked up as runaways and duly punished.
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Craig
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PC: Ravak t'Sha'hal Darrow
SC: Elia Darrow
TC: Zarayne
QC: Farah Kattan
Location: Scotland

In the Pale Moonlight (Fanfic)

Post by Craig » April 11th, 2017, 12:35 am

<< Duty is Heavier Than a Mountain

OOC: This story takes place prior to the Legacy of Darkness MRP.
The hour was late. In the streets of Hama Valon, those people that were still out and about moved along avenues lit only by the full moon. There was a gale enveloping the sprawling settlement, extinguishing all but the most protected streetlamps. Alleyways were never wholly safe, not even this close to the Grey Tower, but tonight they were especially dangerous.

One man that didn't fear the darkness was the Gaidin Captain of the Grey Tower. He looked down alleyways as he strode briskly through the city, but he had no inclination to see what shadows lurked in the depths. The day had been long and monotonous, and the start of this evening had been lonely. The wind rattled the windows of his rooms within the Warder Hall, distracting from the pleasure of a quiet night of reading. So instead he had donned his sword belt and fancloak, as well as a seldom-used longcoat, and stalked into the city for a different type of escape.

The Band of Brothers wasn't Ravak's favourite drinking establishment, but it was close to the Tower. A number of other denizens of the Tower had also shared that idea, judging by the faces he saw sitting amongst the common room's tables. Rav took a seat at an empty table along one of the walls. He was ever the Gaidin, picking this as his vantage point from where he could observe the rest of the room.

Whilst he waited on a barmaid to wander by, he pulled a small box out from within an inner point on his jacket. It was a plain box with a latch. Rav thumbed it open and extracted a long pipe from within. He had purchased it as a curio a few months back, but now he was getting infrequent use out of it. It would help make the night pass by easier, before he had to return to the drudgery of life as Riahana Ferria's secretary. He stuffed tabac into the pipe, then waved over to one of the barmaids. If this was going to be another night in the enjoyment of his own company, he wanted it to start right away.

Between the buzz of alcohol and the smoking of tabac, Ravak whiled away a number of hours under the roof of The Band of Brothers. At some point he had acquired a packet of cards from another table, and was playing a game by himself around a couple of empty pint glasses. The cards were well-loved and a bit sticky, but in combination with his other distractions, Ravak was enjoying this evening alone.

When he finished his third game of Eight Corners, the buzz of inebriation was close to fading away. He looked up for someone to call over for another drink, only to realise that the bar was emptying out. Quickly making a tally of what he'd had to drink, Ravak guessed that it was time to return to his rooms. After all, there was no-one to wake him if he overslept in the morning.

He gathered the cards up into a pile and gave them a few good shuffles as he built up his drive to move. In a table two along from his own, two people were sucking at each other's faces, both evidently drunk from the way they pressed sloppily against one another. Ravak loudly cleared his throat. The kissing stopped and two sets of unfocused eyes attempted to make out the person who had interrupted them. "Get back to your individual quarters," Rav commanded.

The Accepted and Dedicated looked at one another, laughed, then carried on with their facial melding. This time, Rav took one of the cards and threw it at the pair. It struck the woman on the cheek. She quickly broke away from her partner and rose to her unsteady feet in defiance. "Who do you think you are, telling us what'da do?"

Ravak was glad that he couldn't smell the stench of her breath, but he didn't need to it to sounds irate. "I am Ravak Darrow, the Gaidin Captain." Rav pushed himself up, letting the fancloak unfurl down his back as a symbol of his office. "Now you've got five seconds to get out, before I decide that Jaryd and Vanya need to be told about this tryst." That got the learning ranks going. It wasn't five seconds, more fifteen, but they scrambled out of The Band of Brothers like the Dark One was personally harrying them. Rav snorted. That was just the little piece of levity he needed to cap off the night.

Leaving the near-complete set of cards on the table, Ravak placed a number of coins beside it, enough to cover both his own tab and any unpaid for drinks from the facehuggers. He turned bodily to see if there was anyone else to reprimand. There was only the one other patron left. He was a pale fellow, a bit gaunt-looking, with matt black hair. Rav thought little of it as he walked away from his seat. The scrapping of another chair against the wooden floors made him reevaluate that decision.

The Shienaran turned back to face the gaunt-cheeked fellow. The man's face now bore such a look of hatred that Rav wondered how he'd missed it before. Ravak's bare hands rested comfortably on his swords' hilts. "Can I help you?" he asked with a voice like granite.

"Ravak Darrow?" The man asked. He approached Ravak slowly. "Is that your name?"

"It is. What of it?"

The man sneered. "You're a Warder, right? I can tell by the cloak. Tell me, have you been up in Kandor recently?"

Ravak really had no interest in humouring the man, but there was murderous intent in his eyes. It didn't make much sense; the air was clear of the scents of violence. If this pale fellow was about to break the law, the reason for it had to be extraordinary. "I have," Ravak answered flatly.

That was the trigger the man needed. He ran forward as he pulled out a long dagger from behind his belt. He raised it high, gripping hold of the hilt with two hands. Ravak just stepped into the attack, one hand going up to block the attack whilst his left fist struck into the man's stomach. This was just like training back when he was a Drin.

So it was with stunned surprise when Ravak felt the dagger go in.

The world seemed to jump from one moment to the next. His would-be attacker was now doubled over on the ground, clutching at his stomach from where the Gaidin's fist had made an impact. In his other hand, Rav gripped the dagger carefully by the crossguard. The dagger was polished to a mirror, and was without a mark of blood.

Not that dagger.

The pain now registered. Like lightning, agony spread out along his back. Even in the midst of enduring the attack, Ravak pulled the ko'di around him and drew both of his swords, ready to face this second assailant.

At first, the rest of the room seemed empty. Fear skittered along the edges of awareness. I can't fight a foe I cannot see. The voice faded away almost without notice, but it was correct. He considered whether the blade he been thrown, but even then he didn't immediately notice anyone in sight.

Not immediately.

Ravak barely spun out of the way as a second dagger came within inches of his belly. An plain-looking man looked placidly at him from only a couple of feet away. How in the Light--? Rav had no further time to consider how his opponent had appeared out of the air. Within the ko'di, he expanded his focus to include this unremarkable man. Unremarkable aside from the dagger in his hands and the way he had materialised out from nowhere.

Kingfishers Watch the Sky flowed into The Lion Springs. Rav could feel the damage in his back worsen, but his attacker came off worse. Neither swift nor lucky, Ravak's longsword sliced through the man's chest as his newly-forged sword-breaker was driven straight into the man's stomach. That was probably enough to end the fight, but Rav took no chances. Ribbon in the Air drew a second line of exposed muscle perpendicular to the first. With his middle now cut into quarters, the would-be assassin dropped backwards onto the ground.

The ko'di dropped away, leaving the Gaidin with one dead attacker, one disabled attacker and a knife protruding from his back. He took a couple of steps to the side in order to see both men even as footsteps approached from the kitchen. The tavern's owner looked at the expanding pool of blood, then at Ravak. "Get the city guards," Rav ordered, "and call for a Healer."

----

A form of normality was restored within ten minutes. City guardsmen were keeping a cordon around the corpse, whilst two of their number interrogated the one that Ravak had put down with his fist. There were raised words from both guards and prisoner, but they fell on deaf ears, most especially Ravak's. He sat on a stool, using the bar to keep himself mostly upright. The dagger was still in him doing further damage with each minor movement, but he was dead if he just pulled it out. Fortunately an Asha'man of the Yellow Ajah was seated behind him, inspecting the wound. "This is going to hurt." The Asha'man handed Ravak a leather bit. "You'll want to put this between your teeth."

Rav weakly nodded. He knew this part; he'd seen it before. He pushed the rounded leather into his mouth and bit softly into it. First they had to remove the blade, and only then could they Heal it. He felt the blade within him stiffen as the Yellow took hold. "On the count of three. One, two, th--

----

What happened in the following week was altogether routine. After passing out in The Band of Brothers, the Gaidin Captain had spent a couple of days recuperating in the Infirmary. During this time he received a personal visit from Miahala that his would-be killer was not just some random assassin but a Grey Man. Even Ravak paled in the face of that news. As for his other attacker, there was no further information to report. "It's City Guard business" was the impression he was left with on the matter.

Once he was freed from the shackles of the Infirmary, his world expanded initially to his quarters and his office, then outwards to the city in general. He found himself making excuses not to go back into Hama Valon. Zarayne was the biggest reason he gave for not leaving the Warder Hall, just in case the Aielwoman came to see him. She didn't, but knowing she could was enough.

After a full week, Vari came by to see him. She had recovered from her ordeal at the hands of the Whitecloaks, possibly even renewed from the experience. The Kandori was certainly more lively than he was when she popped in on him. "You've been hiding away," she stated confidently. "I've come to force you to socialise." The tiny Green hauled his arse out from his chair and into the hallway with surprising deftness. He forced his way beyond her to grab his swords, making no concessions for that act. A moment later and he was tugging on a shirt in the midst of the Warder Hall with one hand.

Hama Valon was as it always had been. It was not an active hive of Darkfriends and Shadowspawn as Vari had teased. Ravak still felt on edge, even if reason and his senses confirmed that Trollocs weren't barrelling through the alleyways toward him. His face was set in granite, pale eyes watchful as the Green sister lead them to a different establishment than the Band of Brothers.

Vari pushed the Shienaran down into a seat, then disappeared towards the bar. "You didn't even ask... what I wanted," Rav muttered to the departing Kandori. He turned back to face the table, sighing bitterly. He didn't want to be here. He had an interesting book about Saldaea waiting to be read, and a comfortable chair, all back in his rooms. This place really didn't appeal in the least.

Still waiting for Vari Sedai to return, Ravak took a long look around at the other patrons. His eyes would dance over any Grey Men in the room, but he could suss out more mundane threats. He rubbed his nose, grateful that he wasn't capable to sensing split ale and damp sweat and the body odours of labourers. There was the ever-present lingering scent of aggression and violence, but it was only on the edge of conscious awareness. No crimes jumped out at him. Hama Valon was, for the most part, peaceable.

A green form pushed her way back to the table, placing a mug of beer and a glass of white wine on the table. "They are not accustomed having Aes Sedai as clientele," she commented with a gesture to the wine. Rav gave her a nod before taking hold of his mug.

They knocked cups together. "Cheers."

Rav worked quarter of the way through his mug before lowering it from his lips. Foam coated the underside of his moustache. "So what's the plan?" He leaned in towards the Kandori. "To get me drunk, is that it?"

"I've heard it doesn't take much." Vari's smile was sweet to the point of rottenness. She shook her head a moment later. "No, that isn't the plan. This evening is about us."

"Us?" He looked and sounded confused. His mind immediately alerted him to the fact she was a member of the Green Ajah, and they were very forward with their choices of bondmate. Or partners. Both, Rav thought dryly.

"Us," she repeated with a serious look. "We are both alive, in case you hadn't noticed. I refuse to let Children of the Light lock me in my chambers out of fear, and I refuse to let the same happen to you."

The Shienaran took enough draught of his ale. Although he had rescued Vari from the Whitecloaks without a scratch on her, it had been his fault in the first place that she'd been captured. The minus did not quite cancel out the plus of that equation.

"I'm not scared, certainly not of Children," he growled softly. Pale blue eyes narrowed in defiance. "Don't give me that look. You're too young for such a scowl."

Vari spoke but the words fell on deaf ears. Ravak had cast his sight over the rest of the bar again and he plucked out from it a familiar face. The man from the Band of Brothers. This was beyond coincidence.

Ravak looked back to the Green sister with such an intensity that she halted in mid-breath. "I need you to slap me, and then storm out," he said quietly and urgently. "Then go back to the Tower and get more of your sisters. Or Asha'man or Gaidin. At least three." If there was another Grey Man, then five seemed like a healthy number including himself and Vari. The Kandori's face formed into a pristine mask of ivory even as her eyes asked questions. "Now," he commanded.

Vari's slap was far harder than he thought, leaving his ears ringing. When he recovered from the shock more than anything else, Vari was gone. Her glass had fallen over and red wine made a pool across the centre of the table.

Ravak counted to five, took a mouthful of his beer, then rose to depart. He didn't look back, nor could he heard if anything pursued after him from the din of the crowds. He pressed through the inn's doors and into the dusky street. Rav spat out his mouthful of ale and stepped out into the middle of the street opposite the bar. There was no cover for him out in the open, but then there also wasn't any cover for his would-be attackers.

The man came out from the tavern a minute later. He immediately met the Gaidin's stare in a challenge.

"How do you know me?" Rav called out.

"You were in Kandor," the pale-faced man replied with confidence. "You slaughtered innocent men to free a Tar Valon witch."

"Hama Valon," Rav corrected as his expectations shifted. "So you're a Whitecloak?"

"No," the man spat back, "but my father was. Commander Gwaelath Gedwyn of the Hand of the Light."

The Questioner? Of all the men he'd had to kill on that evening, it was the Questioner's face that haunted him the most. It was the Questioner who's face that he wished he could scour from his mind. The man died an ugly death. At my hands. Maybe if he died here, then that death would be just.

But Ravak had no intention of dying tonight.

"I am sorry for your fath--

"Sorry?!" Gwaelath's son shouted. "You killed him Darkfriend!"

"I did." It was a cold, hard-edged reply from the Shienaran. Unbeknownst to the man opposite, the Gaidin was now within the ko'di, where emotions and thoughts were pushed aside to focus on the only thing that mattered: survival.

The now-quite-Whitecloak had gained a sword since their last encounter. He drew it out but not in the manner of the rank-and-file soldier. Unfolding the Fan had no name within the ko'di but Ravak recognised the movement. Rav drew out his two swords in the same fluid motion as his opponent.

Their first hits against one another were playful and toying, as each swordsman attempted to get a gauge of the other. Ravak knew his own strengths and weaknesses. The Questioner, Commander Gedwyn, had been his superior in skill. Luck had been in winning factor in that fight. Without thought, Ravak just prayed that his son didn't have the same martial skills.

Luck wasn't on the Gaidin Captain's side.

They danced as the Aiel did, as their blows got more aggressive and threatening. Rav dodged around Lightning of Three Prongs, countering with Striking the Spark into the man's Low Wind Rising. The tip of the Shienaran's longsword got within inches of the not-Whitecloak's brow, but never clinched the deal.

"You killed my father!" the man repeated, half a cry of anger, the rest a pitying wail. Ravak couldn't respond; wouldn't respond. The sword-breaker swept low then darted for the man's chest at the last second. The Swallow Takes Flight was met by the Grapevine Twines. Getting into Rav's reach, the attempted disarm forced the Shienaran to lash out with the pommel of his other weapon. The blunt end of his weapon connected with a cheek bone with a crunch. Both swordsmen reeled away to recover themselves.

Time had its own flow and ebb within the sphere of combat. Moments took minutes, minutes took moments. Rav couldn't begin to calculate how long Vari had been gone, nor how long it would take her to rouse enough defenders back to this position. A Gaidin was seldom alone on the battlefield, but he was in this instance. An eventuality he had been trained for, of course, but he wouldn't have complained if someone wished to jump to his rescue with the liberal use of the One Power.

Gedwyn recovered, dropping his sword low as he assumed Apple Blossoms in the Wind. Rav guarded himself with Kingfishers Watch the Skies, both of his swords in a mid-guard in front of his chest. Neither man had a good way to hit the other. Yet their blades did meet, less playfully but still without true deadly intent. There were only a few opportunities in such a fight to score a meaningful hit. The rest of the time was a game of testing and probing and goading.

Silver moonlight shone off the three weapons as steel met steel over and over again. The street was empty; the tavern door was barred shut. This was for the City Guard to deal with, if any of them appeared. Until then, the mutually held thought was to leave the Gaidin to his business. Faces crammed up against the windows, jostling for position.

The two swordsmen also jostled for position, alternating which side of the street they were standing on. Rav tried to evade an incoming strike with one of his own. His longsword took a sinister line beyond the enemy's blade in the form known as the Dandelion in the Wind. There was a resistance to the slash as he cut through cloth into flesh beyond. Even as red slickened the man's upper torso, Rav felt white-hot pain in his side.

Even with a sword inside him, Ravak moved undeterred. His sword-breaker locked onto the bloody blade and Rav twisted in an disarm attempt. Molten fury tore through him as his side wound was rent open, but the sword broke free from Gedwyn's grip.

Using the ko'di as a suture around his torment, Ravak spun his blades in a flurry of death. The River Undercuts the Bank had a blissful name, but the form was intended to behead. The symbol of the Fang and Flame briefly glinted in the moonshine before it slid through the space previously occupied by Gedwyn's head. The pale face rolled free from its body as both crashed into the cobblestones below.

Clutching onto the ko'di with all his might, Ravak staggered towards the pub. The door started to open as he reached it, and he collapsed into a pile of supporting arms before he breached the bar's threshold.

The rest was black.
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Craig's Tracker ❖ Librarian
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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