Punch First, Punch Hard [Attn: Ravak]

[Craig]

Ravak

Rav had been readying himself for the coup de grâce before a force buffeted him against a wall. In the haze of rage, he didn’t process how unnatural the event was until he was face-to-face with the Asha’man, and even then he only understood enough to know that the fight was over. Trapped by bonds of solidified Air, the Shienaran raged internally. The furnace stoking the fire was already cooling. The pain in his arm returned, clear without anything else to distract him.

The Asha’man’s soft notes belied his anger. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t have the Captain of the Guard over there lock you both up for a few days.” There was a wicked scar across that ageless visage, and a hardness in that green-eyed gaze. Ravak had never been fully comfortable with the idea of male channellers, but that unease was streaked with panic now.

There were a number of answers on the tip of the Ji’alantin’s tongue. The truth was the most self-destructive: that he had stalked after Dax because he had bonded with Katrie. That would raise questions about when he had known about the bond, and why he hadn’t sought out the proper authorities instead of taking matters into his own hands. That would lead back to the meeting in his room, and the night in Hama Valon, and the sneaking into the Novices’ Quarters...

Despite his many repeated protests against the trickery of Daes Dae’mar, he quickly concocted something that was truth and lie. “I was concerned that Dakson Gaidin was taking advantage of a woman, so I thought to intervene.” That glare didn’t change, and Rav felt compelled to offer up more. “Things may have spiralled out of hand, Asha’man.”

[Sunny]

Dax

One moment the Tairen stared up waiting for a death blow, and the next he felt the very air explode around him, pushing him away from the Ji’alantin. The unseen pressure did not stop, and Dax felt his stomach lurch in protest. The One Power. He did not like it any more now than he had when Seth had Healed him. His fear and anger only grew as he felt invisible bindings wrap around him, holding him to the wall it had pushed him against.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t have the Captain of the Guard over there lock you both up for a few days.” The words came quietly, and yet with as much force as a shouted command. Dax looked at the source, and swore silently as he realized exactly who had happened upon them. The last thing I need is the bloody M’hael sniffing around my business.

Before he could force his beer-dimmed mind to form words with his lips, Ravak spoke. “I was concerned that Dakson Gaidin was taking advantage of a woman, so I thought to intervene. Things may have spiraled out of hand, Asha’man.” He sounded contrite, face earnest,

Dax laughed, an unpleasant edge to the sound. “Spiraled out of hand? He tried to bloody kill me as I came out of a tavern and I still have no flaming idea why!” The lie flowed off his tongue easily. “I will happily go about my business with no further trouble,” he added, “If Darrow promises to leave me be.” Let me go! Panic was building inside his muddled mind.

“I can perhaps shed some light,” Janille said, stepping forward. She hesitated a moment, her gaze shifting between Dax and the M’hael. It settled on Durent, and she dipped a smooth curtsy. “The Gaidin insisted on taking me outside,” she said in a breathless voice. “I did not mind the company, you understand, but I did not wish to leave my work so long. Methinks Dax Gaidin knew trouble was at hand when the other approached. He- he threw me at… Darrow, I think he said his name was?” Her eyes were wide and innocent. “And then he tried to run.”

The back of Dax’s head thumped against the wall as he began to curse.

[Trent]

Durent's intuition led him to believe something else was going on here. Men didn't fight to the death over the honor of a woman neither seemed terribly attached to. He definitely believed this might be about a woman, just not this one. He had seen the look Rav had had for Dax in many a man and woman's eye. Durent knew he'd held it more than once before. No, something much more serious was going on here. First things first, he needed the two separated. He would speak with Dax later. Ravak was the one he was worried about.

He kept his face impassive as he nodded to a nearby member of the guard, "Thank you miss, why don't you go with the guard here while we finish clearing the area. When she looked like the might pipe up again he looked at her with a firm look that broached no argument. She managed an awkward curtsy and gave a big wink at Dax, who seemed to be trying his best to pretend she didn't exist.

The M'Hael then motioned for a few more guards to come over as he released the weaves holding Dax. "Gentlemen, please take the Gaidin to get some medical attention for his wound and see that he sobers up before being returned to the Tower." Durent put a mild emphasis on the word, 'return' denoting that he expected the man to be escorted back after he was seen to. The guard's gingerly, or close to gingerly, helped Dax stand up and walked him up the street. Durent then motioned for the rest of the guard to leave him and Ravak alone.

After the guard to left the street, Durent walked slowly over to the young man, releasing the weaves that held him in place. Durent casually leaned against a railing opposite Ravak. He stood there patiently as the Ji collected himself, his face sympathetic, waiting for Ravak to speak first.

[Craig]

Ravak

Rav watched with muted anger as Dax was led away; the real fury had already gone. When the prison of hardened air dissipated, Rav cleaned the blade on his sleeve before slipping it into its scabbard. The Asha’man was still watching him, but he did his best to ignore him. The pain along his arm was distraction enough, but the ko’di was still eluding him.

“I told you what happened,” the Drin growled, gesturing at the street. “The woman told you what happened. What more do you need to know?”

Dark green eyes locked onto Rav’s with... empathy? Peace, I don’t need your flaming compassion. Use your bloody powers against that oaf! He sniffed loudly. It was meant to be pointed, but instead Rav caught his own stench. “Blood and bloo-” He caught himself when he realised he was verbalising his thoughts. “Ah... I...” He moved to scratch at his beard, but pain reared up. “Sod it, do you know any Healing? I don’t fancy adding another scar to my repertoire.”

OOC: Sorry, short an’ sweet, but the dear boy is still a tad injured. And grumpy. And hasn't cotton on to who Durent is.

[Trent]

Durent calmly watched the younger man's reactions and he could almost see the anger bleeding away. That was good, the last thing he needed was the man to not be able to let go of his rage. Sending Dax away seemed to have worked, for now. He tried to run through in his head different scenarios that might have caused this near-deadly brawl. He doubted very much it had to do with some random barmaid.

At the question of Healing, Durent nodded and walked closer to the man, taking his arm lightly and doing a quick Delving weave to identify the problem before applying a standard Healing weave. One of the few Durent had managed to learn properly.

After doing so and releasing Ravak’s hand, Durent took a few steps back and leaned back on one of the railings slightly. “I’ve known enough fighting in my years to recognize a scuffle over a random maid’s honor. And as honorable as that is, you attacked a fully trained Gaidin with vengeance in your eyes. A vengeance I’ve seen in my own eyes that had to do with someone very special.”

Durent tried to gauge the man’s reactions, but was getting more of that waning anger still. “I know I’m not a leader in the Yards, but as a former Green, I know aggression, rage, and all of that. If you want to talk about it, I promise no judgments or repercussions. If not, I’ll simply take your word that nothing of this sort will happen again. Not in the Tower or the Tower’s city that I’ve sworn to protect and keep safe. Pick your poison.”

[Craig]

Ravak

Rav flexed his arm, testing the Asha'man's Healing. He should have already known from the lack of pain that it was fine, but he wished to do anything other than speak to the man. His anger was gone, as much as his opportunity to strike at Dax was gone. Light, this was a mess. He rose a hand to his forehead, rubbing at a non-existent headache in his temples. Well, there was a headache. His head ached with the knowledge that the Aiel novice had imparted.

The Shienaran lowered his hand, and blue-grey eyes glared defiantly into dark green. There was an odd sort of patience in the Asha'man's expression. It would have been easier to handle rage right then. Rav very much wanted to be left alone, to muddle through his thoughts and feelings in his own time. He pressed his shorn finger into the ground, trying to replace the injury and pain he felt inside with an older scar.

"I'll take the latter option, Asha'man." Rav's response was quiet, but laced with bitterness. No doubt there would be punishment yet to come, from the Mistress of Training. The sooner that was out of the way, well deserved though it may be, the better. The Ji'alantin opted to push the issue. "Now what?"