Come, Walk With Me (Open!)

[Chris]

It didn't take too long to shift the debris. Maever was deft enough with Air that he was able to remove anything in their way, and as soon as there was space available to hop in, Ravak went straight on through. Maever wasn't about to stop him, he lacked the authority and besides, it looked rather dark and dank in there so he didn't really want to head in first... he did move to head in after Ravak, but then the beautiful Master of Training called back out, "Be careful, we've got Seanchan back here."

So Maever retreated. "Oh, well, I do be thinking that I should stay out here then. To keep an eye on the huskies. They do be most alarmed! Yes. Very alarmed. It do be a travesty. Ummm." Maever gave a nervous chuckle, but then the sound of a groaning figure made him steel his resolve and scramble into the gap with much less grace than Ravak had managed.

Maever was a mere duckling when it came to many things, but Healing? As he saw the two men on the floor of the kitchen and crouched down, it was clear he was a majestic duck in a beautiful river. He was still holding Saidin and so a delve on both of the men was easily done. "They did take bruises to the head, possibly the hilt of a blade. Other scrapes and bruises... unrelated." Maever set to work on Healing them, moving his hands slowly and deftly over one body, and then the next. There was nothing impressive or fascinating about it. The men were ill, then they were not. Maever did not Heal as a show, nor did he do it as an act for praising (though his ego did approve and thrive on such positive reinforcement).

The men were Healed but Maever used a deft weave to keep them asleep for the time being. The last thing they needed was two confused men interfering as Ravak dealt with these Seanchan types. "Okay, the men do be Healed and here does look safe," he assessed. He got to his feet and reached down for his own blade, though he knew he wasn't able to compare to Ravak. Still, it might be needed. His voice was cold as he said, "please lead the way." As much as he didn't want to leave the men alone, they would be okay. Especially if one of the dogs sat in front of them, though Maever wasn't sure he could get one of them through without bringing the others, and it was clear the white one was not an attack dog.

Into the main building they went. Maever reached out with tendrils of Air to hoist up anything that looked as if it might fall on them, lacking the skill in Earth to feel the building around him. It was never something he had any aptitude for so why would he? No, Maever was a Healer so he would just have to make sure Ravak didn't die, and that there was enough time to get him patched up. The corridor they stepped into was single file, the perfect bottleneck (was that what they called it? Maever couldn't remember...). It meant that when the Seanchan fellow in the scary insectlike armour stomped in seemingly out of nowhere - Maever hadn't heard or sensed anything about him at all until then - the Illianer let out a yelp of alarm. "Fortune prick me!" he cried, but fortunately their resident Gaidin had the matter in hand.

[Craig]

Ravak

Maever made the decision for him concerning the Seanchan. A good part of Rav's instincts to deal with the men on the ground warred with the fairer side of him that said the men deserved a trial, no matter how clear-cut the verdict would be. One was a murderer, the other he presumed was just a looter from the scent. The Yellow seemed to favour an end that slid more towards fair treatment than swift justice.

Head wounds. Blunt objects. It seemed strange that these soldiers had been lain out cold, instead of killed. Was this Seanchan army discipline? Ravak knew far too little about the Seanchan for his likings, but apparently Travelling into the empire was not permissible, and there were no books on the subject that didn't hark back to Hawkwing's era.

"Please lead the way." Maever's lilting voice seemed oddly muted. Rav simply nodded, slipping comfortably into the role as Warder. He pushed beyond the men and the kitchen, deeper into the house. A corridor led through towards more rooms, although with the devastation Rav had little clue how big or small this house was, or what the other rooms should have been. Those questions stopped tumbling out as a Seanchan soldier in full armour stepped out from one of those other rooms. "Fortune prick me!" Maever called out.

Rav's wince at the Asha'man's lack of subtlety was suppressed as the ko'di slipped around him with a familiar embrace. He already had his swords in hand, and it only took Rav three paces to reach the soldier. His longsword attempted to find a weak point between the unusual armour - regret at being unconscious during the main siege floated by outside the ko'di - whilst he parried and defended with his sword-breaker.

The environment in the corridor was not conducive to the wide sweeping attacks the Gaidin was accustom to, but then the Seanchan seemed ill at ease too. That didn't stop his blade from scoring a deep wound into Rav's right thigh. The Shienaran thought he heard some exclamation behind him in a Illianer accent, but that went ignored as he slumped onto one knee. He was aware of the pain and the blood that poured from the wound, but it concerned him little. The pain was distant; the Seanchan was here right now. Peering out from the insectile helmet, dark eyes and bright teeth flashed in anticipated success. The Seanchan prepared his killing blow, approaching eagerly to unleash his coup de grâce. Ravak steeled himself...

...and drove home his own longsword through the soldier's submandibular gland. The blade went through flesh and muscle and brain, with a nasty crack to indicate when it had broken through the other side of the man's head. Rav pushed back on the hilt, and let sword and soldier fall to the ground in a tangle of dead limbs.

Ravak gripped onto the ko'di for support as he pushed himself up onto his feet, using the walls as leverage. His sword-breaker was clenched in a death grip, waiting for yet another of the Empress' soldiers to magically appear from the ruins of this house. He risked a glance behind him, to confirm that Maever was still there and unharmed. He gave the Yellow an uncertain and pained grin, then looked back to the front, watching in case there were more soldiers yet to come. At least now he was getting to show these sea-cursed monsters the mistake they had made coming to the Grey Tower.

[Chris]

Maever was holding Saidin, but that was not much help in a crowded corridor. Everything moved so quickly that even with the Power enhancing his senses, Maever was unable to do more than let out a squeak of alarm at the ensuing altercation. This only increased in volume when Ravak took a blow to the thigh, and the Illianer feared along the edges of the void that he was able to watch a man get killed.

He was right, but it wasn't the Gaidin who died this day. The sword went through his... that bit between the jaw and throat... and upwards, making the Illianer wince. But they had to fight these people, or be killed. There was no alternative and Maever could not feel bad for choosing himself over the Seanchan.

As soon as it was safe to, Maever bustled over. There was no use in grinning at him, Maever could tell the Gaidin was in pain. Who wouldn't be with a cut like that? He'd fallen to one knee like a sack of potatoes. He listened out, but his Saidin enhanced hearing detected no more Seanchan incoming. They were safe for the time being.

"Please, you do be needing to be careful," Maever clucked as he went to inspect Ravak. He performed a Delve on the man and assessed that he was just fine, apart from the wound through his limb. The thigh would be fine when Maever was done with it. "It do be very dangerous to fight like that." He spoke as if Ravak had intentionally set out to get himself injured, and was doing it simply to upset him. "Alright, do you be accepting Healing? You can no walk on that leg."

It might have been a little terse, but it was a nod, and Maever set about Healing the injury with the care and efficiency he was known for. He simply put his hands to the sides of Ravak's head and wove the five powers in an intricate pattern, prioritising Fire for this exercise. The wound closed itself and left not even a scar, just a cut in the trousers and some blood to signal that there was something there, once. Maever grinned when he sat back, a little off with his hold on Saidin but he was genuinely pleased, somewhere outside of it all. "There we go," he said as he stood up again, moving to the dead Seanchan and removing Ravak's sword from his, erm, face? Head? The Illianer wiped it clean with a small weave of Air and Water, holding it blade down for the Shienaran to take. "You might be needing this," he said, before he went ahead and peeked his head around the corner.

"The Seanchan did come from somewhere," Maever reasoned as he went into what he thought might have been a kitchen in another home to the one they were first in. Indeed, there was a large hole in the side of the building, leading out to some streets on the other side of where they had entered. "I suppose those other two men did come to the wrong place at the wrong time. Why would they be here? I suppose I could ask. They do no be looking like refugees, or caught in the crossfire." The Illianer wrinkled his nose, politely puzzled. All he knew was that they were ill, and now they were not. But they still needed their help. "We do need to wake them up and send them on their way."

[Craig]

Ravak

Send them on their way. Rav had a very clear idea what his understanding of that phrase meant, and he very much doubted that Maever shared that view. Ravak took back the proffered blade, and slid it and its twin back into his sheaths. If this little bout hadn't attracted any attention, then there were unlikely to be any more Seanchan or Darkfriends about.

"They'll be returning to the Tower in irons," stated Rav off-handedly. "Or they would, if I had any irons to shackle them in." He rose from his slump, needlessly testing his leg. He ran a thumb over the wound, smearing blood away but doing little else. He glanced up at the Asha'man with a small smile. "Thank you Maever. Looks like I'm avoiding adding another scar to my tally today."

As the Yellow glanced through the rest of the house, Ravak considered what to do with the other two Seanchan. He could, possibly, drag them very unceremoniously through the streets of Hama Valon. That paled in elegance to simply hoisting them aloft with the One Power, but Maever seemed to have quite the bright outlook on life. He thought to let them go? True, they were unarmed, possibly not even soldiers saying they lacked armour, but still, they were Seanchan.

He rubbed his nose, remembering what he had sensed from the two men. No, they deserved a trial, which meant returning them to the Tower. If Maever wasn't willing to assist, then the Master of Training was about to get his morning workout, alongside a lot of strange looks.

Rav caught a hold of the Asha'man's sleeve. "We should go." he more than suggested. "We can alert the Tower Guard, and get these two prisoners to the Tower. If there are any more Seanchan roaming about, then it's best if there are several dozen soldiers between you and them." He scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Can you carry these two out, or can you form a Gateway? If not, I'll haul them back to the Tower myself. Then we can see what they were doing here."

[Chris]

Peeking around did not yield anything more interesting than the men they had already encountered. Maever fiddled with his sleeves as he looked around, curious, and wondering at how these houses used to look before. But he wasn't supposed to dwell on how things used to be, something he could get into a rut with; the Illianer caught up to the Warder, though the hold on his sleeve made him jolt as if he had been shocked with a lightning bolt.

Big blue eyes looked at the redhaired man with surprise. "Why do they be returning in irons?" he asked. "Why do they be prisoners?" He didn't understand, that much was clear on his face, but he was the sort of fellow who did as he was told. "I can make a Gateway for you," he offered, but he did this with the air of a man who wasn't quite sure why, and simply let those with more authority do the leading.

"It does need to be outside; there do no be the room here, and it might harm the building and bring it down on us." Maever popped back through the hole to the outside, where the three dogs were happily waiting for him and Ravak to emerge. Once Ravak was out Maever poked his head back in and seized Saidin, carrying the men out with Air and setting them gently on the ground at his feet. A whistle from Ravak kept the dogs from paying these strange men too much interest. Out here there was plenty of space to form a Gateway, though it wasn't particularly large, and Maever also hoisted the men through to the Grey Tower's grounds. It was a simple enough exercise and Maever didn't feel too fatigued from the action, though now they had the men on the other side of the gate and Ravak plus his dogs were herded through, the man figured his work here was done.

Sort of. Almost. Maever was no Blue, he was too simple to have any desires outside helping others however he could with Healing, but his sense of righteousness did rear its head and give him a voice now they were on safe territory. "Ravak, what do be wrong with these men? Why do you be sending them as prisoners? They did look injured and in pain, that do be all." All he could see, anyway. They had already earned interest from the Tower guards, and the Illianer put his hands behind his back and tried not to look too submissive. He was not a particularly new Asha'man, but he had to remember that he was one, and that he couldn't be herded around as he so often felt he could be.

[Craig]

Rav

Hands moved from the hilts of his swords to his side, in an attempt to look less Warder-y and more... something less serious. There was an easy reply on Ravak's lips to the Yellow's questions, but he restrained himself from answering. Maever had the gamut of emotions required for a carer, and far more empathy than Rav thought possible. He's a Yellow, not a Red, nor a Green. The different Ajahs held their different philosophies, and the Master of Training knew he was too indoctrinated with the Reds point of view to see things dispassionately.

Rav approached Maever, keeping his tone soft... well, soft for the man who was used to shouting at trainees day in, day out. "I agree, they are injured, and they do need the services of the Infirmary, but..." He made a show of looking at the two sprawled out soldiers. "They are Seanchan." Rav tried to give the Yellow a pointed look. "We just had ourselves attacked by Seanchan. These men may not have been there during the siege--" although Rav's nose told him differently about at least one of them "--but they are almost certainly our enemies." The stormy glare that descended on Maever was unintended, and it came accompanied by a harder tone.

The guardsmen were close enough now for the Gaidin to give orders. He pointed at the two prone individuals. "Place them under arrest, but be careful, they are injured. Inform the--. Actually, just wait."

Rav redirected his attention back to Maever. There were two or three levels of hierarchy between the two men, but Ravak Darrow was as much a servant to the Tower as the Asha'man. Moreover, as a Gaidin, it was his sworn duty to defend Aes Sedai and Asha'man from harm. And to enable them to do what needs to be done. Maever had the ability to heal the injured, carry people aloft on invisible threads, open holes in the air. What was that compared to wielding a couple of swords and being able to track down criminals?

He gave the Asha'man a deep bow, fist pressed to his heart per the traditional Shienaran salute. "I defer to your judgement, Maever Asha'man," he intoned formally. He already had plenty of people to preside over in the Yards, and as he already knew, he had far too few actual friends in the Tower. It wasn't even a question of what was right for the two prisoners any more. It was about respect and duty, and Maever had already earned his respect this day.

[Chris]

Not one who generally enjoyed loud noises, Maever looked Ravak's way a little uncertainly. It was true, these people might be Seanchan, but... that didn't mean they were any less deserving of care, at least to Maever. Though the glower on Ravak's face told Maever that the other man did not share this sentiment, and the Illianer looked down at the men as well. It was easier than looking the Warder in the face, at least until he started speaking. Maever was soft spoken and quiet, but his conviction gave him strength, and he met the handsome Warder's ire with his own placid, slightly concerned look. "An injured man who do be unconscious, do no be my enemy."

But then that glower disappeared, and the man was bowing to Maever, deferring to his judgement? Maever tried not to look bewildered, failed, and tried to share a look with the guardsmen. They saw nothing amiss and, like Ravak, they were waiting on the Yellow to tell them what to do. This didn't automatically become Yellow Ajah business just because he was there, not unless he wanted it to. He could send them to the Greens or the Reds, or let the Gaidin decide what he wanted to do with them. Maever was the one who had to make this call, and make it he would, but it was going to be as a representative of the Yellow Ajah. The rest of the Tower had a habit of adopting a violent approach and trying to smooth things over afterwards. Maever liked to think that the Yellows were a little more diplomatic in that respect.

"Soldiers do no be the enemy," he said eventually, his voice slow as he voiced out his thoughts. "They do be men following orders, like any of our own armies. I do no be knowing how they do feel about the Grey Tower, and they may no be kind to us, but the least they do be deserving is a fair trial. If you could please take them to the private rooms at the Infirmary for Healing, but do please search them for weapons and keep them under guard. I will speak to the First Weaver and see what they do be wanting to do going forwards from here."

The guardsmen gave a salute and proceeded to take the men away for Healing and the like. A knot in Maever's chest unravelled enough for him to smile a little, and he looked a little apologetically at Ravak. "I do no be knowing what will happen," he admitted, "after they do be questioned. If they do be Seanchan then they may no be friendly, but at the same time, I can no judge a fellow by where he do be from. Perhaps they do be wanting to get out of this war as much as, ummm, someone like myself. We will have to see. But I promise I will keep you informed! And thank you, for everything you did do today. I do be grateful for your blade." They could be executed, they could be kept as prisoners or war, or they could be turfed into Seanchan territory and left to fend for themselves. Either way, Maever was not the one to make that particular call... at least, he couldn't without deferring to his superiors. He wasn't quite influential enough to get away with much involving the use of his own initiative, at least not without permission first....

One of the dogs gave a bark and wagged its tail, so Maever crouched down to address the furry friends as well. "I do be needing to thank you as well for all your hard work! You do be a very good dog, yes indeed, fortune prick me you do be!" He administered pats on the head, and there was much merriment and tail wagging from the animals. "Ohhh, they do be so lovely," Maever sighed as he got to his feet.

[Craig]

Ravak

Like the ancient symbol of the Aes Sedai that adorned the floor of the foyer of the Warder Hall, the world was divided into a world of black and white. Any Seanchan that had come to Hama Valon with the intent to destroy, kill and pillage were enemies of the Grey Tower. It didn't matter whether they wore all of the airs and graces of those in command, the Blood as they were apparently called. It didn't matter whether they were a simple footman, green to combat and unused to the trials of being a soldier. They were all guilty of crimes against the Grey Tower. Individually, they should be sentenced to punishments befitting their particular acts against Hama Valon, but they were all guilty.

At least, that was the world that Ravak Darrow tried to inhabit.

The same sinuous line that divided white flame from black fang split the north of the world between the Borderlands and the Blight. He was white, the Shadow was black. A simple truth that was instilled in every Shienaran.

Now Maever, a man from about as south as civilisation had been carried, was making those lines less distinct, blurring the marks between light and darkness. He didn't have Ravak's nose, didn't know for true and for sure what these men had done, but his statement wasn't aimed at this solitary occurrence alone. Rav wasn't stupid, he could read far enough into what Maever had said to know that much.

The Gaidin grimaced over the Illianer's head as he bent down to give affection to Daishar, Tai'shar and Snowflake. All three of them were acting the same, pawing for the attention and love that the Yellow was doling out. Snowflake was the soft one, the one that was already more pet than working animal. Her sisters were the hounds that would seek out the Tower's enemies in combat. White and black. Looking at them with fresh eyes, it would have been impossible to tell which were attack animals, and which were incredibly fluffy sops.

When Maever straighten up, the grimace had vanished from the Master of Training's face, replaced by an appreciative smile. He held out a hand, the head of the golden dragon just creeping up beyond his shirt cuff. "Thank you, Maever. You've given me something to think about." That was about as articulate as Rav got, at least now. He sensed he was going to be giving this encounter a lot more thought over the next few weeks.