Arrival [Open to all]

[Waymon]

The air that moved within the ‘mountain home’ as his traveling companion, Asha’man Bashagar had told him that was the meaning of this town’s name in the Old Tongue, held a familiar scent and sound. There was a crispness to the air; not uncomfortable almost refreshing. The sound was nearly the same in every other large village or city, merchants talking loudly and enthusiastically about their wares. The city was clean enough, much more than some of the villages they’d pass through while they made their way to the Grey Tower and it’s surrounding city. Casten was also given a general overview of the city, where to not go and the fact that he would not be allowed back into the city unescorted until he was raised to Dedicated or released from the Tower.

Casten kept his tongue still. There was little point of arguing Tower law to his senior, or rather soon to be senior, though he didn’t bother to hide his annoyance from his face. Whether he noticed or not Cas didn’t notice. Reading emotions from him when he didn’t want you to was like getting water from a smooth rock. “I’ll meet you at the Tower gate within two hours. Stay to the main street and try not to buy to much. You won’t be able to keep everything you’ve came with regardless.” Bashagar pointed up the road. “Up the road is the Band of Brothers Inn. It’s something of a popular Inn among the Tower denizens. The food and drink is fair for the price.” He turned his stony gaze to the young man. “You may wish to eat before coming to the gate, however do not consume alcohol this day.” Cas found an unconscious hint of punishment should he opt to disobey his directions.

Bashagar departed without preamble; leading his mount through the throng of people in the street. Cas waited a moment before also heading towards the inn he spoke of. He paused at certain stalls listening to the hawkers ramble on about their goods and prices. On a regular basis his hand moved unconsciously to his coin pouch and scanned the visible hands of those around him. Being raised in a city full of thieves created to learn such behaviors.

After idling the stalls for a sizable amount of time he made his way to the inn. The common room muffled the noise of the streets and crisp air only to replaced by a stillness due to the sparsely occupied room and warm rich scented aromas wafting in from the kitchens. He nodded towards a serving man when the individual acknowledged and welcomed him. “Water and leftovers from lunch.” His lilting tenor cadence of speech rung out clearly in response as he withdrew the coin to pay for his request. He too fell into the comfortable quiet of the room as the man brought over a cup and pitcher, quietly placing it near Casten to serve himself at his leisure.

[Sunny]

Dax sat with his boots up on a barrel and his bottom firmly planted on the bench outside the Band of Brothers, watching the world go by. To the outside viewer, he was just another shape outside a tavern. At that particular moment in time, he liked that just fine.

As he had expected, after passing the Survival test he had been rewarded by large quantities of additional responsibility that had not given him much time to enjoy the city as much as he preferred. Today was the first time in two months that he had had a chance to even peek out of the gates, and he intended on making the most of it. He had crept out of the Dining Hall during the midday meal and found his way here.

He had already consumed a hot meat pie, and a mug of some infused hrb sat unheeded on the bench beside him. He did not particularly care for tea, but the barkeep had refused to serve a Ji'alantin beer so early in the day. What does it matter to him? Dax shifted, scratched the back of his green-clad thigh, then settled again.

As he sat, he unwittingly fell back into habits remembered from times now past. He had preferred this posture when working as an inn guard. No one expected the sprawling buffoon to be paying attention or know how to use a sword. He scanned the street with hooded eyes, assessed each person who passed by, and gave special attention to anyone who showed interest to the inn.

A man with green eyes emerged from the crowd and approached the inn. He met the Tairen's eyes for a moment, then walked by as if the former sellsword didn't exist. I probably don't. That's why I was sitting like this after all, Dax thought, bemused at his own annoyance. After a moment, he collected himself and stood; he checked his sword, gathered his mug and dirty plate, and went inside.

As he passed through, he saw the stranger settling into a chair. Dax passed his plate to the barkeep and asked for something to drink other than the bitter black mess in his mug. The barkeep gave him a warning look, and Dax shrugged his shoulders, giving him a "can't you help a fellow out" kind of smile.

"Fine. But only one. And then you go somewhere else or the Mistress of Training will have my hide."

The wiry Ji'alantin's lips spread into a full grin. "Thank you kindly, I understand," he said, and slapped two silver coins on the counter. "Keep the change." There were perks to being raised as well as more chores and lessons. Money happened to be one of them.

He turned, and sauntered over to the chairs. "Hello there," he said to the newcomer, "what brings you to Hama Valon?"

[Waymon]

Casten vaguely recalled the man that spoke to him from outside. Lazing about like many of the lowborn thieves or sellswords back in his home city. Casten felt he barely warranted a second glance before he approached his table. Upon closer inspection, the man was attractive enough though Casten subtracted marks for that imperfect nose. No doubt won in some tale full of gallantry but Casten’s standards for physical beauty, in both sexes, was relatively high. Still he could understand letting a blemish not completely detract from the overall individual.

Casten gestured with his hand for him to sit with a flick of a finger and a nod. “Greetings, sir.” In Lugard when dealing with men such as this one, the general rule was not to provoke whatever beast they identified with without cause. These creatures hardly roam alone. By luck only his chosen table held a view of the door. “The Tower holds my business.” Casten chose his wording carefully. It held truth without being revealing but a defense via an expectation of arrival at the town’s center of power.

Soon the serving man brought back a plate of somewhat warm food but that was in Casten’s expectations. Dismissing the man with a small flick of his wrist he returned his eyes to his company. “And you? Passing through or have business here?” Cas didn’t bother to excuse himself while he started to eat, his time was short and stomach empty, and the man hardly seemed the type to be offended by his eating. Cas observed the table manners of his noble house as he waited with mild interest in his response.

[Sunny]

Dax arched an eyebrow, sticking his thumbs in his belt loops and settling back on his heels to look at the stranger for a long moment. He had the look of Murandy, and a Lugard accent. Even when he looked directly at the former sellsword his eyes seemed to slide past, and his mouth had the subtle downward sneer of someone speaking to a person he clearly believed below him. Spoiled rich boy, Dax thought, amused.

His beer and the stranger's food arrived at the same time. As the Murandian showed no compunction for eating while talking, Dax availed himself of a chair, turning it to sit spraddle legged and leaning over the back. He took a pull from the mug while considering the man's question. Business in the Tower? Whatever brought this young man to Hama Valon, he was about to get schooled.

Dax smiled at the thought. "Business, in a sense: the Gaidin sure seem to enjoy cracking my head to let some sense in," he said cheerfully, setting his mug down and crossing his arms across the back of his chair. "The name's Dax, and I'm one of the Ji'alantin." At the man's blank look, he added "That means I've been in the Yards long enough to train others, but not quite long enough to wear those queasy-looking cloaks of theirs." He tilted his head.

"And you? I hear Lugard on your tongue. What's your name?"

[Waymon]

Gaidin. Casten thought back for a moment to recall just what a gaidin was. Warriors trained to be the shield and sword for Aes Sedai back in the White Tower. It seemed that the Grey Tower also took in that tradition as well. This Dax fellow picked up on Casten’s confusion surprisingly easy. Casten immediately tried to smooth out his face back to a benign expression with a lazy crooked grin to acknowledge he’d been had.

Casten only then became actually interested in the man. He’d walked right into this Dax’s plan into lowering his guard. Every action was done in an effort to allow him to saddle up to him and extract whatever it was that pleased him. I don’t know if I’m pleased or worried. “Thank you for explaining.”

Casten took another bite to allow himself time to think more about this man. Obviously if he can separate his accent from the rest of his countryman, he would have either had spent a large amount of time practicing or he is even more skilled at neutralizing his own accent than Casten. “You have a keen ear, Dax.” It was honest praise from Casten. He had suspected that the warriors of the Towers weren’t taught in anything else other than martial prowess. “My name is Casten Murow.” Casten hesitated a moment before continuing. Isn't he’s part of the caste that’s forged to protect me is there any harm? Taking a sip from his own cup he spoke again. “I’m to start my training to become an Asha’man. My escort had business to see to before we went to the Tower.”

[Sunny]

Dax took another drink of beer while the stranger ate, wondering about that odd smile. What had he said to cause that reaction? when Casten explained his real purpose for being at the Tower, however, the Tairen hastily took another long pull of beer to hide his own reaction. Bloody channelers. They're everywhere. When he lowered his mug, he carefully did not look around the room for the Murandian's "escort", though his shoulder blades itched like he was being watched. His new companion had said that the escort had business to attend to.

He looked down at his drink, instead. "I think the Asha'man would say you are very lucky, Casten Murow," he said, setting it down. Then he looked up and added, "I don't happen to agree with them."

A flicker of eyelid was all the reaction he got. This stranger was good. "Why? He told me the Source is clean."

"Because I've lived in the Tower long enough to know better," he said, a smile playing on his lips. "You won't become an Asha'man tomorrow, or even next year. I know a woman named Rissy. Beautiful girl- brown eyes, black hair, perfect curve- I digress. Anyway, she became a novice four years before I came to the Tower. She can't channel without permission, she can't leave Tower grounds. Every day she washes the floors on her hands and knees and scrubs pots until her knuckles bleed, then goes to the Library and studies for hours in hopes of becoming even a little bit more fit for advancement. When they do finally summon her, she'll have to pass through some kind of test. No one really knows what it does, but everyone knows that some people "decide to go home," if you know what I mean. Once she's past that test she still has to go through another entire level of training before finally becoming Aes Sedai."

He paused, looking Casten in the eyes with raised eyebrows. "All of that sounds like far too much work for me," he said cheerfully. "Rissy though...when I told her that she said channeling IS freedom, and flounced off. But hey- you're about to find out, aren't you?" He grinned, and finished his beer in one long gulp.

"Care for company on your walk? I should be getting back anyway."

[Kevin]

Taylin was in her quarters with the Green Ajah, her eagle no longer had to stay in the aerie with the other birds, and now found itself in a corner of her study, hooded and tethered for now. She intended to use him to help rid the city of crows later. He could use the exercise. Bloody hell, she could us the excise. It was taking longer than she wanted for the ageless appearance of Aes Sedai to take root in her born beauty. For now she was stuck wearing her shawl whenever she went into the city.

She picked out a low cut green silk, slashed with creme dress, clinging to her like a second skin once her lady had done it up. She spent some time pulling her hair up, and using weaves of air to braid and twist up the back, pinning it with a carved ivory looking comb. The last thing she did was put on her emerald earrings and necklace before grabbing her shawl and exiting the rooms.

She smiled and bowed her head to those she passed, she was still new among them. She hoped to get out without anyone noticing, and for once, seemed to manage it. She did not risk to go for her horse, no short assurance a Green's warder wouldn't be on watch. It wasn't against the rules, it was just, without the ageless face only her ring and shawl showed what she was, some thought that could be dangerous, but surely not for an outing just in Hama Valon. Still, the dagger in it's sheath hidden among her silks was a comfort.

As she exited the Tower Grounds, she'd feel the lightest of breaths on her back. One of the gaidin from her swordsmanship training. He didn't say a word, or offer a look of protest, simply fell in line behind the woman as she glided down the streets to murmurs of 'Aes Sedai' and a few badly practiced bows.

Taylin spoke with a warmth to her voice that bellied the calm composure of her face. "Thank you for walking with me, Gaidin Maroue." The man simply smiled and nodded. They weren't much for talking, but he sparred with the best. So it came as a surprise to her when he'd take her wrist to stop her from walking farther. His eyes fell on a Tavern across the way.

"Tayliin Sedai, this is not the nicest of inns in the city, the men come here to drink."

"I will fight as well as any man, even if in my own way, so why should I not drink with them too? Of all Ajah's, we should know our soldiers." Taylin's voice was still warm, but the woman from Far Madding hadn't lost her requirement for men to be respectable. She'd enter into the establishment, gaidin first, followed by herself. She moved with a calm self-assured demeanor, as if this were an every day event. She over heard one man as she moved behind him...something about 'Channeling is Freedom.' Her eyes however, fell on the young man with him, and as they did so did her smile grow warm. The gaidin with her sighed and went to get drinks.

[Waymon]

Casten listened with honest attention to this Dax as he gave voice to his opinion on channeling. Casten himself had never met anyone that would consider the ability to wield the unearthly powers that the Creator himself made unfortunate. The food soon became less interesting as he recounted the story of this Rissy woman. Of course he had heard stories from various sources about how it would take years for most to be raised, sometimes even longer. Even Bashagar spoke of such things. Casten had understood that his ability came with a cost; duty to a place that was as much an enigma as the other two Towers. A place of power, prestige, and a font of knowledge. The Towers having stood for centuries, Ages even, spoke to their ability to fight time and fate.

“What do those borderlanders say about duty? That it’s heavier than a mountain or some such?” While Casten formed the statement in the form of a query it rung with significance to the young noble. Regardless of his feelings towards his House or his parents and the resentment towards all others that held him in contempt of his conception, his duty as a Murow could not be just discarded so easily.Lifting his cup to his lips and back to the table after sipping out some of it’s contents with a practiced grace, he studied for any opening in his facade. “I’ve yet to use the One Power so I could not offer you, in good conscience, a confirmation either way if this lovely Novice spoke truth or not.” Using his forefinger to pop his thumb, Casten’s eyes darted away for a moment, clearly in thought. “However as a servant of the Light and a man of House Murow it’s my obligation and honor to bear that burden. This is what it means to be a man, no? Regardless of the hardships that come with such power, those of us that can bear that burden should do so with grace.”

Casten’s lips spread out into a small smile and turned his hand over, palm up. “Forgive my prattling, dear Dax. This is all still new to me so my thoughts are out of sorts about this subject.” He looked at his table companion’s tankard before he continued to speak. “Yes I would enjoy some company to the gates…” his eyes were drawn towards the door and unconsciously he smiled unconsciously at the beautiful figure moving into the common room. The man that walked in before him moved directly to the barman while her gaze fell to Casten and Dax. I haven’t seen a Domani woman in some time. Many men, commoners and noble alike, knew and spoke of the natural beauty of the women of Arad Doman and this lady that graced the inn merely confirmed such talk.

Casten nodded his head deeply towards her before flicking his eyes back onto his fellow man at the table. “That lady there. Who is she?” Casten doubted that this woman would be unknown to the populace of the city and Tower. Her face did not hold the agelessness of the Aes Sedai so he was unsure of her position in society.

[Sunny]

Dax listened to the Lugarder's speech, at first bored beyond words. Honor, duty, conscience... Blah, blah, blah. Every moderately wealthy man says the same stuff when comfortably situated...but the first time you need something unfortunate done, guess whose hand will do your dirty work? He inwardly lamented his empty beer mug and its endless capacity to disguise boredom, but before he could muster the courage to get the barkeep's attention, Casten seemed to realize how much hot air he was releasing, and cut himself short. Well that's a first, Dax thought, nodding acceptance of the apology.

"Perhaps-" his words were cut off as he became aware of the people who had entered the room while he spoke earlier. A stunning woman in clinging green silk and a green-fringed shawl stood next to a man in a cloak that shifted slightly with every movement, blending into the wall behind him. He knew them both -though he doubted the Aes Sedai knew him- and cringed. Judging by the intent way the Green was looking at Casten, his 'free' day was certainly about to end. He turned back to the Murandian.

"That lady there. Who is she?”

Dax smirked. "That is Taylin Melandrin, recently raised to the Green Ajah," he said quietly, toying with his mug, "and beside her is Maroue Gaidin." He lowered his voice to add hastily, "be wary. Pretty faces have sharp teeth." Greens frequently bonded multiple men, and according to barracks rumor, their idea of "permission" was a little off from the socially accepted definition. On that premise alone he had made a point of avoiding them. He had no intention of being bonded, with or without permission.

Now, however, he felt like a mouse in a cage. He could not leave without being noticed, but he could feel the woman approaching, her interest in Casten palpable in the small room. The rulebook told Dax what he had to do next, and though he grimaced and argued with himself, he could not ignore it. He wore the uniform of the Ji'alantin, and her Gaidin companion knew his face. Reluctantly he stood, pulled his shirt straight, turned, and bowed to the woman.

"Good day to you, Aes Sedai," he said, "may I assist you?"

[Kevin]

Taylin held the offered mug carefully in one hand, with no intention of sipping from it. It was a pretense, like so much in this city. She had hardly waited on Maroue to return before descending upon the table in full regalia. She was a short woman, no taller than five foot ten on a good day; but the way her eyes pierced above an almost predatory beauty in her cheeks and nose could make a man forget himself easily enough. She seemed full of half whispered promises, sights to behold, yet not allowed. Seduction had not been a teaching of the Grey Tower; that was a dance she'd learned sense birth.

Her form moved with a sway, not the traditional glide of an Aes Sedai in the Tower. She held no shame for her body, or the way she presented it. Indeed, she found herself to be decently covered and her jewelry modest. Her eyes took in the man who stood from the table, from the ruggedly handsome face, to the recognition of her escort.

Her voice was warm, perhaps friendly, even though her face remained calm with a faint, pleasant smile. Her eyes, however, told a different story. A fire burned deep in them any man would be a fool not to notice. "Ji'alantin...Dax, that's what they call you yes? Why still Ji'alantin after so long, do you not want a bond mate?" Her questions came easily, as she seated herself at the table, motioning for no need of formalities. She'd come a long way to get be here as she was, and she would change it for nothing.

"Your friend here Dax, he's too fresh faced and pretty for the yard. A channeler then?" She seemed to smile, and if he was able he might feel his skin prick as she embraced the Source weaving a simple puff of air, for little other reason than to test Casten's reaction.

Gaidin Maroue would nod to the other man, giving a slightly smile at Taylin's approach. He took a seat behind the woman, his massive frame seeming to compliment and somehow protect the short, lively woman at the table. It was obvious the two shared more than a sparring relationship, though none would say such to a Sister, not outright anyway. As if she'd care either way, the man was a catch, and an animal when it was needed. She could do worse in a bond mate, and yet she waited.