Striking a Bargain [Persuasion Class with Taesh]

[Jenny]

Kaira

Classes after classes after classes. Life was a dizzying swirl of books, essays, homework and long lists to memorize and recite orally. It never seemed to end. Kaira wasn’t a poor student, but neither did she excel. Her best friend and roommate, Nasrin, seemed to absorb information effortlessly. Oh, Nasrin’s marks weren’t much higher than her own; but then again, Nasrin studied so much less, preferring to spend her free time reading romances or higher-level textbooks that Kaira could not even begin to comprehend.

And so when class schedules were released for the upcoming month, Kaira took one glance and groaned.

“Another class?!” she exclaimed. “Vanya Sedai must be trying to turn my mind into mush! Light help me, I’m going to die.”

She tossed the paper to the ground and threw herself on her bed. Nasrin looked across the room, amused.

“Stop being so dramatic, Kaira. At least you don’t have calculus three times a week!”

Kaira mumbled into her pillow. “Shut up, Nas. You love math.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” Kaira said.

She sat up and plucked her schedule from the floor. Her finger traced its way down the list. Then she grinned and jumped up to wave her paper in her roommate’s face.

“Look! My new class is with Taesh Asha’man of the Grey Ajah!”

“Gah! Stop that! Why are you so excited now?”

Kaira laughed.

“He saved my life when I was a child,” she explained. “I fell into the pond in the gardens. The next thing I knew, the most handsome man was leaning over me and telling me to breathe. He had warm brown eyes, smooth dark skin, cheekbones that could cut stone and eyelashes to die for. I thought that I was dreaming.”

She closed her eyes with a smile.

“And how old were you?” Nasrin asked.

“Four.”

Nasrin groaned in exasperation. Then she snapped her fingers in front of Kaira’s face.

“And you can still remember…? Never mind, why do I even bother. Hey, wake up! Stop your dreaming and get dressed. You can tell me more later. Come on, we’re going to be late for breakfast.”
----- The next day in class

The Grey Asha'man stood at the head of the class. Kaira carefully chose a seat in the back corner. Soon enough the class began and Kaira realized with glee that this class would be full of practical application. No essays! No homework! Thank the Light! All Taesh asked was for active participation and enthusiasm, which Kaira had in in overflowing bucketfuls.

The lecture went on. She slouched in her chair and doodled on her parchment. A sketch of Taesh as seen from her place in the room. A portrait of Alric, drawn from her imagination, with hearts around his face. Another drawing of Johan, who happened to be seated somewhat near her in the back row. He had been promoted, she noticed, his grey Drin uniform replaced with the darker grey of a Ji’val. And he appeared to be asleep. Kaira added a marking indicating drool trailing down his chin (though there wasn’t actually any) and Z’s above his head.

“Starting with… Aha, there in the back. Think that I can’t see back there? You… hm, Kaira isn’t it? You can go first.”

Kaira stiffened as she looked up from her paper. What had Taesh said? Something about introducing herself and describing a time that she had tried to persuade or influence someone. She placed her quill in its inkwell and rose to her feet. Though she was far from shy, it was still quite intimidating to have the entire class turn and watch her. Their gaze prickled on her skin. She shifted uncomfortably.

“My name is Kaira Darrow,” she began. “And I’m a novice. … Oh, where am I from? I was born here in Hama Valon. Let’s see. The last time that I tried to persuade someone was when -”

She hesitated. Aw, shoot, she could hardly confess how she had tried to persuade Nasrin to do her homework, could she? She stuttered and quickly switched her story.

“- uh, when I went to the -”

Wait, that story about her haggling with the street merchant wouldn’t work either. Novices weren’t suppose be on unaccompanied trips out into Hama Valon. And certainly not buying alcohol. Again she changed her tale.

“- the gardens for chores. Weeding, right? And the garden shed where they kept all the tools was locked, and so I had to find the gardener. Well the gardener was a lecherous old man and he refused to unlock the shed unless I gave him a kiss. On the cheek, of course. So I threatened to report him to Vanya Sedai. Then he said that he would tell her that I had been found channeling in secret. I laughed in his face and said that was impossible, because I had a block. The gardener still did not relent and said that he would report me as being found kissing a boy, at which point I decided to just kiss him and be done with it. However, instead of kissing him, I only leaned forward and had him turn his face away. Then I snatched the key out of his hand and ran to unlock the shed.”

That was persuasion, wasn’t it? After all, she had obtained the key in the end. Kaira smiled awkwardly and sat down, hoping that no one would realize that her story had been completely made up.

Spoiler: show

(OOC: Next! Introduce your character (name, rank, place of origin) and describe a time that he/she has tried to persuade or influence someone.)

[Kenneth]

Taesh the Teacher

It had come as no surprise to the Atha'an Miere, who was head of the Grey, when he had been approached to teach a class on persuasion. By all accounts he had excelled when as a Soldier he had taken the class, and the Asha'man had cultural training as well; Seafolk were notorious for their bargaining skills. Still, the dark skinned Head Clerk had not been too enthused about teaching, not this particular class. The former teacher had left a deep impression on him, but she was dead now, under a haze of accusations that Taesh refused to believe. That death, after the attack on the Novices' and Soldiers' quarters had been over a decade, but stepping into the role of teaching Mirin Sedai's class, had dredged up some feelings from the sea of memory.

There was one thing the Asha'man was looking forward to, and he smiled as he checked himself in the mirror. Mirin's daughter was a Novice, and she had been assigned to take the class. Taesh had not seen the girl for quite sometime, not since she had stumbled into the Garden's pond and almost drowned. The Asha'man smiled slightly at his reflection as he remembered that day, thankful to the Light that he had been there to rescue the girl. That smile turned rueful as he remembered, that was the first time he used his authority as a fully ranked member of the Tower, and unleashed a storm of fury and fear on the Ji'val who was suppose to be her guardian at the time.

A little in vain, and a little in amazement, Taesh winked at himself in the mirror realizing that very little had changed in his appearance since that time. An effect of being a channeler, his aging seemingly slowed somewhere in his twenties. It was an effect that the sometimes full of himself Asha'man found all too pleasing. With a deep breath he left his quarters to make his way to the classroom where the beginning of his class would be taught.
---- A slight frown crept across the Asha'man's face as the daughter of Mirin sat down. Taesh was not known to frown, so even though the corner of his lips were barely turned down it was noticeable. Apparently Kaira had not inherited her mother's ability at steering the helm through words.

"That is not persuasion, it is manipulation" Taesh intoned, giving a sweeping gaze to the entire class. "The purpose of persuasion, is to get our audience to do or feel what most benefits us, but in such a way that they believe they have come to the conclusion on their own. In Novice Kaira's case, it would have been better had she been able to make the gardener believe that giving her the keys, without the requested kiss, would have been the best outcome for him."

Taesh gave Kaira a passing glance, before turning his sights on another of the attendant students, singling them out to give introduction.

[Cat]

Johan

Johan was not, in fact, asleep, although he wished that he was. Truth was, he was simply trying to stop the headache that he could feel forming behind his eyes. He was tired. Exhausted. Since going through that bloody arch, he’d been plagued by nightmares; nightmares in which he watched his brother die again and again, dreams in which he also died; where he was stabbed and then drowned. He didn’t think that he would ever be able to look at water in quite the same way. The memory of drowning would never go away, even if it hadn’t been real. It had certainly felt real. Suffice to say, he’d been avoiding sleeping, trying instead to stay awake for as long as he could.

And now he was in another bloody class that he didn’t want to be in. It seemed that the Tower liked forcing him to do things he didn’t like.

He stretched out where he sat, trying to ease his aching muscles. He’d been tense since the arch, too, unable to fully relax, and it was beginning to have an effect on him. If he could be anywhere but here, he would be, like taking his frustrations, his stress, and his worry out in the training yards. It was hard to keep still when he felt so on edge. He needed to be moving and not sat in a bloody classroom.

He glanced once at Kaira, frowning slightly at her story. She should have just reported the gardener, threat or no threat, rather than have him try to do something like that. He himself probably would have knocked the gardener’s teeth out and not regretted it one bit.

Before he had a chance to say anything, though, to give a voice to his thoughts, it was apparently his turn. He winced, his cheeks colouring ever so slightly as he straightened up, never particularly comfortable with being singled out and under someone’s sole attention.

“My name is Johan Albaer,” he looked at the Asha’man, “and I’m a Ji’val,” if it wasn’t obvious by his uniform. “And I’m originally from Ebou Dar.” He didn’t say that he was really from across the river, from the Rahad, but his origins were clear enough in his accent.

There were plenty of times he’d tried to persuasive. His whole life had been trying to persuade people to do what he wanted: trying to persuade his father not to hit his mother after the man had come back raging drunk one night, having lost yet another job, or how, when his father had failed them yet again, disappearing for over a week, it had been left to Johan to find food. He’d been caught and cornered in the act, told that he was going to be arrested, but he’d managed to spin a sob story. The food had been old, was probably only going to be thrown away, so couldn’t they please have it? He had over four mouths to feed! They had nothing else! They were going to starve! It had been the truth, and the stall holder had eventually given in, telling him never to come back again. And then there had been all the times that he’d managed to talk himself out of a fight or some other situation. His success rate for that hadn’t been very high; he’d ended up with a black eye or bloodied lip more often than not.

But he couldn’t say any of that, though, not without revealing his whole past, and he wasn’t going to do that.

“I can’t really say anyone’s ever listened to me,” he finally continued, his voice a little flat, “so I’ve never really had the chance to try. That’s why I’m here, after all. To learn.”

If he could persuade them that that was the truth…, well, he already had this whole persuasion thing sorted.

[Locke]

Nasrin Naceri

Fish guts! She had promised Kaira she wouldn’t be late. It should have only taken a few minutes. Nasrin had made a quick stop off in the kitchens. There was a baker’s apprentice, he was nice enough, and a decent looking boy, but that wasn’t why she was there. She had convinced the boy, Tion, to occasionally bake her a few extra pastries. Ever so often she would tug her Novice dress tight in all the right places sneak into the kitchen. She hadn’t been to her homeland in years, but she was still Domani. A rusty Domani. She gave him a steamy smile, swayed a little, and listened to him gripe about his master to his heart's content. Her grandmother had taught her, that a receptive ear moved men even better than shapely hips or a pretty face. Looks faded, but a woman could learn to listen.

She lingered around, while Tion rambled about yeast and dough or something. He really did like baking. It was cute. He really liked her as well. The looks he gave her made that abundantly clear. She didn’t plan on giving him what he wanted. She might let him kiss her though. If she could work up the courage to actually kiss somebody. She wasn’t afraid to, she just didn’t want to. Well that’s what she’d say if Kaira asked her. She was a Domani, what self respecting Domani woman gave everything away without making them work for it? She did like spending time with Tion though, he was good practice. Sweets never went amiss either.

Clutching a pair of pastries under a towel, Nasrin raced through the halls. Asha’man Taesh’s class was several floors up on the far end of the building. From what she knew of the man, he wouldn’t punish her too harshly, for showing up late. Even if he sent her to Vanya, she didn’t care. She had made Kaira a promise. It was Tion’s fault. He was going bolder. If she kept this up, she would really have to give the boy his kiss.

After taking several flights of stairs three at a time, she sprinted down the tiled halls, long legs eating ground. She skidded to a halt outside the classroom pausing to straighten her appearance. Carefully, she slid the door open and crept into the class, keeping her pastries down by her side. After nodding a quick apology to Asha’man Taesh, she slid into the back of the classroom.

Sliding in next to Kaira. “I’m so sorry, Hon,” she whispered. The contrition wasn’t feigned. While she was a slacker and troublemaker, Nasrin hated to break a promise. “At least I brought you these,” she said, slipping her friend a pastry under the desk.

Sneaking bites of her own pastry, Nasrin did her best to listen to the lecture. She tried, honestly, but lectures were so boring. After a while her thoughts were drifting. She glanced over at her friend’s notebook. Kaira had been so excited about this class, and now she was doodling? It looked like some new faces had joined her usual Alric sketches. Asha’man Taesh and was that Johan? Johan was cute, she guessed, but he couldn’t take a joke. Maybe Kay just liked those sorts. Alric also always seemed so buttoned up and serious.

With a little smirk, she leaned over and began to draw on her friend’s notebook. Two figures, dancing. A man, tall wearing a well cut coat with scrollwork on the sleeves. The woman was much shorter, slender with a flowing gown. She left the heads blank. Faces just weren’t her strong suit and Kay would fill them in for her.

While Kaira added the final touches, Nasrin tried to focus again. By this point she was just lost. Her knee insisted on jiggling in a most un Aes Sedai display. She chewed on the end of her pen while Taesh asked the class to tell them of times they had persuaded people. She thought about her father. He had been such a stubborn man, impossible to sway. Well there was that one time. She didn’t like to think about that though. There were a number of things about things about Stanos she'd rather not think about. Stories she hadn’t even told Kaira yet. No, she needed to find a more innocent story.

No, not that one either. She wouldn’t talk about how she convinced Tower staff to smuggle her contraband. Nasrin Naceri was no snitch. Kaira and several other students gave their answers and Nadrin realized she hadn't heard or at least understand a word. Sometimes she wondered what was wrong with her. She could read about something all night and talk about it all day, but she just couldn't learn in class. Kay just made it looks so easy. Even with her doodling, she would probably pass this class.

Kaira was elbowing her. “What?” she hissed. Her friend simply pointed at the teacher. It was her turn. “I've spent my entire time here convincing myself that I'm not just an idiot,” she said in a grim voice. Blood and bloody ashes, why did I say that? Mortified, she buried her face in her hands and tried to disappear into her chair. She had planned to say something silly, something that would make Kay and the others laugh. Nasrin didn't look up to see if anyone was laughing at her, she was trapped to deep in the indistinct chaos that was the inside of her own mind.

[Kenneth]

Taesh had stopped walking around the front of the room, an incredulous look plain on his face. That look turned to one of confusion and them contemplation as he threw up a hand to silence anymore introductions for a moment.

The Grey Asha'man could not understand that answers that his students were giving. He could not decide if they truly knew absolutely nothing of the art of persuasion and bargaining, or if they simply were not taking him seriously. As the tardy Novice nodded to him, Taesh had a flashback of the late Soldier that was removed from class by Mirin Sedai. The Atha'an Miere had a well deserved reputation for being laid back, as gentle as a low tide wave, always laughing. He liked that reputation, it was his nature to be calm, to engender peace and mirth in those around him. Yet there had to be a limit, he was an Asha'man, and they were his students, they must take this lesson seriously. It was easy to think that the ability to channel or proficiency with weapons would be the answer to any obstacle, but Taesh knew that was not the case. Mediation was the bread and butter of his Ajah, and he wholly believed that talking should be the first, second and third course of action before more drastic actions could be considered. Why do with sword and fire would could be easily accomplished with a few choice words.

With a sigh Taesh turned his attention back to the entire class. "Children," he began, using the unofficial title Taesh had heard many of the Asha'man and Aes Sedai use for those training for full rank "even if you believe yourself to have no skill, your answer should be better than this. Think hard, something you should do before you open your mouth to speak in all circumstances, about what I have asked. At some point in time you have convinced someone of something. Your parents or brothers and sisters, your friends. No one lives too long without having to use persuasion in some form."

Taesh began to walk around the front of the room again. "What we do when we change our environments through our words alone, is a subtle yet powerful skill. It's like the tide of the sea, never seen but always felt, and carrying enough force to change the course of an entire ship." The Head Clerk placed a few of those in the uniforms of Drin and Ji'val in his line of sight. "For those who aspire to be Warders, your ability to do battle with words will be just as great as your ability with sword or bow. It may mean the difference between seeing your Asha'man or Aes Sedai safely out of hostile territory, or attempting to battle your way through."

Taesh stopped and then took in the Novices and Soldiers, Accepted and Dedicated. "And for you, the moment you take a Shawl or Cord, your words will hold the force of the sea behind them. Wars have begun, and ended, because of what the Towers have spoken. Do you not think it best to know how, when and what to say?"

Taesh turned to face the entire class again, and with another deep breath let a smile grow across his face, accenting his already prominent cheekbones. "Now, shall we begin again, and this time with a little more effort in your answers?" Taesh nodded his head at the next student he wished to speak.

[Cat]

Johan

There was something about being called ‘child’ that grated, and Johan couldn’t help but press his lips into a thin line, thoroughly unimpressed. He’d always wondered why Aes Sedai and Asha’man liked to call anyone who ranked beneath them that. If they treated people with a bit more respect, weren’t so demeaning, then perhaps people would be more willing to co-operate and give the respect they demanded. Being called a ‘child’ only made his hackles rise. He was here for as long as he needed and then was gone, and he swore, once he was gone, that he would never see another channeler again.

He still had no desire to be a Warder, even more so after the test, but what he had seen of Warders led him to believe that the likelihood of saving an Aes Sedai with mere words was pretty low. He was surprised that some Aes Sedai or Asha’man actually let their Warders speak.

Johan crossed his arms, leaning further back in his chair, his legs stretched out in front of him, and shook his head.

“Like I said,” and he smiled, the ‘children’ having boosted his confidence a little, or, in reality, pricked his pride enough for him to feel defiant. “I can’t think of anything. That’s why I’m here. To learn.”

[Elan]

Jaren Marle

Jaren had mainly listened so far, letting others speak up and answer the Asha’man’s questions. He didn’t think the answers were that bad, and he rather thought the kid — one of the would-be Gaidin, by his uniform, and vaguely familiar — had a point in that they were there to learn, but he also didn’t imagine the Asha’man would appreciate the kid’s tone. As interesting as that had the potential to be, Jaren figured he could step in and try to deflect attention off the poor sod. He didn’t know if it would work, he hadn’t been in this particular Asha’man’s class before, but it was worth a try.

He only had to choose an example he wanted to relate. That was surprisingly difficult, considering his former profession; most of his business successes involved his family name being known for dealing in superior products and himself being entertaining company and good at making people like him.

“I once negotiated a deal with a grumpy old toad of a vintner,” he began, not sure if it was the best possible story for the purpose of this class but unable to think of a better one on a short notice. “His family produced an excellent fruit wine, and were amazingly strict about who gets to sell it anywhere outside Mayene. He was aware of the profit exporting to Andor would bring him and that wasn’t enough to entice him, so the money approach was out. I spent an evening with him, exchanging stories, about people we’d encountered over our careers.” He chuckled at the memory and added, “I had to resort to some second-hand stories from my father, too, see, I was obviously quite a bit younger than the vintner and didn’t have as many stories of my own. Anyway, I never broached the subject of his product after he initially turned me down, and he never said it in quite so many words but I think that’s what won him over and he offered me the exact deal I wanted as I was leaving.”

He shot a look at the Asha’man, trying to gauge his expression, but couldn’t tell whether the teacher liked what he was hearing or not. “Now, whether that was persuasion or just sheer dumb luck…” He shrugged eloquently. He’d certainly hoped for the outcome that he had achieved, but it hadn’t been a case of carefully calculated strategy; he had largely followed his intuition in dealing with the man. It had paid out, though, and he hoped that counted for something.

He glanced at the Ji’val from earlier and leaned his elbows on the desk, flashing an easy grin in the kid’s general direction before looking up at the Asha’man again.

[Kenneth]

Taesh smiled at the Ji'val. He felt the shift in the young man's attitude, one could never be good at persuasion without being perceptive of emotions. Briefly he considered going into enraged Asha'man, as many of his peers might. He had been accused before of being too laid back, it was rare that the Atha'an Miere would reveal his stormy side. It seemed that the decision had been made for him as a Soldier began to speak. The Head Clerk turned his gaze from the Ji'val to the new speaker, giving the young channeler his full attention.

The Soldier seemed to have a grasp on some techniques of persuasion, which was a relief. Still, as the Ji'val had said, they were there to learn, and it was time they got to it.

"Well, I believe that is enough talking, at least in this way. So I am going to steer this ship another way" Taesh informed the class, his eyes gleaming suspiciously. "I happen to make the acquaintance of a Brown who is studying the habits of sea creatures, but he has an aversion to swimming." The Atha'an Miere gave a curious look, not understanding how anyone could go through life and not like being surrounded by water.

"So he has this big glass bowl, that is filled with seawater every day, and every day a different swimming something is placed inside. And he and his other studious little friends sit around the bowl and watch and take notes. How fun for the Brown's, but how awkward for the fish, do you think?"

Taesh laughed then, a true and deep laugh, at a private joke. "Unfortunately for you, but great for me, I like awkward."

When the laughing subsided vocally, but never left the Asha'man's eyes or face, he opened himself to saidin and wrested it to his control. Years of use made the entire event quick, though he never truly got used to the awing inspiration of touching the One Power. Two fine ropes of Air snaked out and wrapped around two chairs, and brought them face to face in front of the class.

"You are going to be my little swimming things, inside a glass bowl. You will either be a farmer, who cannot afford to tithe to his local Lord and provide for his own family, or a Lord needing more tithes to supply his army. I will call you down in twos, and give you your roles. Beware though, things change quickly in the bowl, as outside and unforeseen events can effect your negotiations."

Taesh thought to his Brown friend, who would introduce objects into the giant bowl, or change the conditions within the bowl to gage the response of whatever creature was being observed. He would do the same with his students.

"You" the fey looking Asha'man said, pointing at one of the students, "and you" he turned to another. "Step into my bowl."