Ravak
Ravak walked the halls of the Grey Tower, munching away quietly on a green apple, looking as arrogant as a strutting rooster. Anyone in the Yards would recognise it for The Cat Crossing the Courtyard, the haughty way that Warders always seemed to move. He attracted no more attention than normal, which was to say he was drawing a bit of attention. Sadly not for his golden pin, nor for his reputation. That, the reputation, seemed to come solely from his duties as Master of Training, and had nothing to do with his bondmate Kaia. She had her own reputation, 'the infamous Keeper of the Chronicles'. He'd seen the effects of that on his own sister.
No, they were staring at him. The women were, at any rate, mostly. It was a fair enough day, just on the edge of warmth for his northern temperament. His shirt was unlaced, revealing a narrow V-shaped swathe of muscle and hair underneath. Was that needed? No. But did it help, knowing that whilst eyes were on his body, they were not looking elsewhere? Well, yes, that was the entire purpose of the exercise. To be a distraction from whatever else was going on. If they were too busy looking at him, they wouldn't notice his Aes Sedai so much. Or Elia. Or Sinead. And that was the point.
As he rounded a corner, two smaller forms in white crashed into him. The apple almost slipped from his grasp, but aside from that, he was unharmed. As soon as they had regained their composure, the Master of Training put his hardest glare on them. "Explain yourselves." He didn't add 'children', just on the off-chance any Aes Sedai or Asha'man overheard. He had complete and utter jurisdiction over the Warder Yards' trainees, but handling the punishments of novices came under Mirin Sedai's purview, and no-one else's. That said, he had berated some novices as of late, and a soldier or two. But it was just as likely Mirin or Soti had been required to put in a firm word or two about one of the Drin or Ji.
The replies he got, one voice stumbling over the other, painted an interesting picture. A Dedicated had taken it upon himself to hand out punishments. And from the description of the Dedicated - an incredibly tall fellow - and from the punishments - things he had heard from Sinead - he easily put the clues together. "Well, children-" this time it was safe, as they were alone "-I don't think your punishments fit the crime. Nor does this man sound like Mirin Sedai, hm? No. Now, return to your chores or classes or what have you. If anyone questions you, you can redirect them to me. Now, back to it." They didn't quite scamper off with mixed thanks, but as they were talking over one another again, who knew?
Rav's free hand flexed over the grip of his sword-breaker. An Aiel handing out punishments to gai'shain? Well, if those novices were gai'shain, the black very much makes you da'tsang, doesn't it? And that third novice. The description of her indicated only one particular novice. One with a penchant for climbing trees.
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Both hands were resting on sword hilts when Rav strode into the area holding Avyra and the Aielman. A Dedicated, as the novices had said. Idly, Rav thumbed his badge of office, golden and bright, and planted himself in front of the bench the two initiates were sat at. He directed his glare for the girl first.
"Novice Avyra Moeryr." He brought all of his gravelly voice to bear. The last time he'd seen the novice, she was hiding under his desk, attempting to steal one of his husky pups. "You've made quite a name for yourself. I hadn't realised that you had already spent time in Mirin Sedai's office when the Keeper sent you there. Maybe the Mistress of Novices will commission a seat, just for you, with the frequency you are in and out of there." Rav wanted to build up his anger, so whilst he would have normally stopped there, he opted to continue. "I also hear you are having difficulties with your studies, mm? Accepted Elia told me about your forays into the ways of Healing. Maybe you would have more luck if you weren't out on dalliances with soldiers."
If Avyra had any reaction to that, it was lost as soon as Rav's eyes turned to the Dedicated. "As for you, I'm sure Soti Asha'man will love to hear how you are engaged with, what was it now, a 'distracting relationship' with a novice? The two of us, the Master of Soldiers and I, have devised quite a lovely array of punishments as penances for anyone thinking they are a mighty Asha'man in need of a Warder, or at least a companion." Rav stopped, partially to catch his breath - his voice was trembling with quiet, barely held-in anger. He stroked his beard, thoughtfully. "Ah yes, of course, you are an Asha'man. Or, at least, you think you are, Dedicated. Doling out penances for novices who were merely talking, by my understanding. And you think them gai'shain. Oh yes, please, look surprised. I know what gai'shain are, and I also know what da'tsang are. Be careful how you look at others, lest they look back at you as an honourless dog." Actual spittle was flying from the Shienaran's mouth - it was mostly for show - so when he centred himself back to calmness, it seemed like a sudden transformation. "Novice, be wise about the company you keep. As for you, Dedicated, you will attend me later, when we'll have a nice chat over tea about how your name is not Soti Asha'man, your title is not the Master of Soldiers, and... well, a suitable punishment for your overeager ambition, mm?"
Without waiting for a response - not that any response would be wise at this juncture - Ravak spun to leave. His fancloak fell between his two scabbards, leaving the two swords purposefully on show for the Dedicated to consider. I'm sure that stings, having a wetlander upbraid you about honour. Had he been too harsh? Mentally, he shrugged. He doubted it. Now he just had to square this away with Soti before the Aielman trotted his way over to his office.
