[Complete] Ravak's Enlistment Interview

[Craig]

Ravak Darrow Ravak eyed the guards severely as he approached them, a scowl already present on his face. He ran his left hand through his beard to ensure its straightness, and the movement of his shoulder muscles reconfirmed the presence of his longsword and belongings on his back. He wondered if they would take the weapon from him, and add it to some common armoury. They'll not take this, he thought, as he tapped the pommel of his sword-breaker with his short finger. That weapon had been part of the gift he received when leaving Fal Dara, and we would stubbornly turn around if they tried to part him with it. His teeth clenched with the thought of that.

Closer to the guards now, Ravak tried to flatten his expression. He knew nothing would help with the sullen look everyone thought he was giving them, but he could smile and be acquiescent when need be. As he got within speaking distance, when the two guards began to give him more notice, his mind began to run through the same worries he had harboured from Shienar. You're about to put your head in a vice, one you're not sure you can get out of. This is really what you want for yourself? He wiggled the fingers of his right hand in frustration, then resolved it into a fist. No-one else will take me in, and make sure I come out well tempered. He wasn't sure when that thought, of himself as a tool or a weapon, had materialised. Yet somehow it felt apt. He had seen the ire in the eyes of his former instructors, and he knew there had to be another way to make him useful. Useful? What an odd thought. Are you a tool? In his head, he snorted at himself.

Something had passed between himself and the guards, a conversation he knew had happened but couldn't recall the fifth of. One of the guards began to briskly pace down the road, and Rav had to take a few quick steps to keep up. He hasn't been walking all day. He frowned at the man's back, then realised that the guard had been speaking again.

"Yes, from Shienar. Fal Dara, to be precise," he responded, hoping he had correctly guessed the guard's question. He thought he saw the man nod as he veered right into a field. Rav turned, and his eyes shifted from the guard to the large building ahead. He figured it to be about five stories high, but he only saw four rows of windows making its way up the structure. There were more two buildings, one of either side of the predominant one. Ravak began to watch the ground instead, focusing on the guard's words. He was saying something about fighting with his bare hands.

"Up north," Ravak replied, "if something gets that close to you, you better have your sword in it. I wouldn't try fighting a Fade or a Trolloc with my bare hands, given any other choice." He smiled at that, the thought of fighting Shadowspawn. Maybe when I return, I'll be good enough to fight in the army. The smile faded just as quick as it had appeared.

The guard, no, Mordjen, Mordjen led them through a large pair of doors as he spoke about a Mistress Bryne. Rav assumed this was the Mistress of Training he was meant to see. The vice, he mused. His fingers wiggled again, feathering the sword-breaker before he stopped himself. Foolish thing to think. Just a woman. A woman had partially caused him to leave Fal Dara. Another woman waiting for him meant that he had to return. Duty is heavier than a mountain.

Mordjen clapped him on the shoulder, and he left the way they had come. Ravak was standing in a spacious foyer, the floor tiles gleaming beneath his feet. There were a variety of tables with chairs, with the hubbub of people talking around them. He was now loitering next to some stairs, that Mordjen had gestured to. The Mistress of Training, Mistress Bryne, was presumably up those stairs. He straightened his beard again.

He did another mental check as he slowly ascended. He ran fingers backwards through his hair, shoulder length now, having grown since leaving the Borderlands. The beard was also a new addition, one that he hadn't resolved one way or another on about keeping. He made sure his sword-breaker was fully sheathed, no point looking reckless or foolhardy. There wasn't much to be done about the rest of his belongings and the longsword. As he took the final steps, he tried to smile softly, but doubted that made any difference to whatever expression would be picked up.

He was in a long corridor, with other corridors and doors breaking its length. He moved with trepidation, and looked down the first corridor he came to. There was a single open door at the end, revealing what may have been an office or study, he was unsure. He opted to explore further, and took a step round the corner. The floor had a little too much give, and squeaked as he moved. A ball of ice formed in his stomach and he paused mid-step. There was no-one to see him, but that was little relieve from the fear that suddenly gripped him. He took a further moment to think. Go forth, or turn back. Last chance. His back ached, his coin had dwindled, and he knew he'd need another pair of boots if he was going to march back home. None of that actually crossed his mind as he took another step forward. Duty.

He forced himself to maintain a steady pace as he approached the open doorway. A faint sense of moisture hit him as he approached, and he breathed through his nose to puzzle it out. He thought he may have smelt tea, but it could have easily been anything. Stepping close enough to see in, he saw a woman leaning over a desk. His eyes darted quickly from the woman, to the desk, to the floor. His brain was still processing everything when he put his hand to his chest, and made a slight bow. "Peace favour you. I'm new to the Tower, and looking for a Mistress Bryne." He glanced up at the woman's face for a moment, before looking back to the floor. "Would you happen to know where to find her?"

Edit: Ah, I just found the floorplans and realised some of my descriptions may be a bit off. If it weren't 3am, I'd edit my post just now to reflect this. I'll try coming back tomorrow and fixing it.

[Bree]

Introductions

Ubriel sat the paper back on the top of the stack but lifted it again before letting go. Striking through the number there, she said, "[What is your name?]" Rounded to the next fifty higher, she wrote 450 beside the crossed out line. Ubriel used the back-side of her pen to scratch absently at the top of her head while she mildly stroked her swollen abdomen. Bump was actively kicking and moving this morning and it gave Ubriel a happy and content feeling. Here on the outside, the new recruit was displaying obvious borderlander mannerisms and Ubriel inhaled deeply with an upward twitch of her eyebrows before speaking. "That's me! Come on in and have a seat if you like." Making the mark of her initials she moved the page to the outgoing stack of papers and let it go, replacing the pen in the holder. Her eyes darted back to the man who had just entered. Simultaneously, every movement coordinated and sparing, she moved around the edge of the desk toward the open window, gesturing to the two arm chairs near the tea. Suiting her words, she waddled over to the table and poured two cups of tea before taking one and sitting in a chair. Still as flexible and spry as ever, she did not have the awkwardness she had seen in the former Mistress of Novices when she had been pregnant. The waddle and a tendency toward a stiff lower back were the only concessions her body seemed to have made to the pregnancy.

Turning her attention back to the newcomer and gesturing again to the chair and then to the tea she said, "The tea is lightly sweetened with honey and is chilled. Please have a cup. Sit and tell me what I can do for you. What is your name, what brings you here and where are you from?" As the man responded, the sounds of the practice spars and training classes being conducted outside drifted through the open window above the table beside her. They were comforting and familiar melodies in her ears. Ubriel settled back in the chair and sipped her tea. She took in everything, from the travel worn look of him to the sword and sword breaker. No pets on this one. She was pleased to see that as the last few who had arrived or returned from testing with furry creatures were in a class of annoying all to themselves. Will he stay and find purpose here or will he push himself in training and leave to a purpose he is only trying to avoid?

"Where are you from, Ravak? What brings you to the Grey Tower for training? Why not the White or an army? Do you wish to be a Warder, bonded to a channeler and all that would entail?" She sat her tea down on the flat arm of her chair and picked up a small ledger from the table beside her and flipped it open to the next open entry. Each page of these ledgers held the enlistment information of four recruits. She had commissioned them herself after her first week as Mistress of Training. The pages consisted of four blocks of information, questions that would be filled in during this interview, and the pertinent bits copied to the four corresponding tags on the outer edge of each page. There was one tag left on this page. There was no combination she had seen repeated. Still far too many sword swingers ... Doesn't anyone have any use for the quarterstaff or the axe anymore? She glanced over at weapons rack against the wall behind her desk and grinned inwardly at the tools of her trade, fashioned for her by her husband and soon to be bond-mate. Bump kicked hard into her spine and she stiffened momentarily before bringing her attention back to the man before her.

As he spoke to answer her, she filled out the information. His name, origin, weapon of choice, level of experience and the training he sought here in the Tower. She estimated his uniform size; easy to do as all of the uniforms were adjustable fit in small, medium and large for either men or women. A formal, dress uniform would be tailored later. Jotting down a room assignment and tearing the tag from the page, she listened intently.

[OOC: Please give the first half of your post over to answering the questions above. Be sure to give [origin, weapon of choice, and level of experience as well as a brief idea of whether and why you want to be a warder or only an unbonded gaidin].]


OOC: Welcome! I look forward to showing you around and helping you find everything you need. This interview will count as one of your raising requirements when it is completed. I will explain more about promotions and skills and classes as we progress through the interview and tour (roughly 5 more response posts from you). If you have any specific questions that we are not addressing, feel free to ask at the end of a post or send me a PM if you get stumped. Some of the graphics in our archive are a little out of date, IC things have happened to shake things up but no worries. Its our little playground and we can shape it as we need. Again, welcome and remember to always have fun! -Ubriel

[Craig]

Ravak Darrow "Ravak," he said curtly, "Ravak Darrow." He straightened from the bow, and subconsciously tapped the pommel of his sword-breaker. Looking up, he took proper notice of the office's habitant. The woman was maybe only a couple of years his elder. I never was good at ages, but at least I know better than to ask. He noticed grey-blue eyes, much akin to his own, but there was a depth of knowledge and an inquisitiveness behind them. There was even something about the way she held herself. It spoke of self confidence, and self possession.

"That's me," she responded, "Come on in and have a seat if you like." Ravak took a couple of steps in before he realised what he was doing. He hesitated, and started to watch Mistress Bryne move around her desk. She walked around the desk awkwardly, but the cause of that became evident. She was with child. He was a little taken aback, but kept it from showing on his face. She gestured to a pair of chairs near a pitcher of tea. So it was tea. Maybe I'll be a thief-catcher yet. A rueful smile crossed his face, before he realised what he was doing. Fool boy. Duty, think of duty. He took the seat opposite the Mistress of Training, leaning forward to ensure that none of his belongings poked into upholstery. She offered Ravak a cup of tea. A verbal offer, he noted. I should be well practiced being the lowest rung on the ladder. She settled back in her chair, sipping her tea, and gave him a thorough inspection. He couldn't think beyond what his face may be looking like, scowling or frowning or grimacing. He thought he may already be grimacing.

She fired four questions at him. "Where are you from, Ravak? What brings you to the Grey Tower for training? Why not the White or an army? Do you wish to be a Warder, bonded to a channeller and all that would entail?" As he started to sort words in his head, she opened a book, some form of journal. He couldn't see what was the pages.

"Mistress," he started with a slight nod, "I'm from Shienar, from Fal Dara." That much was easy to say; it was the truth. "As you say, I come to the Grey Tower for training." His lip curled sourly. "As you may expect from the Borderlands, we are all trained hard. The Blight lies close, and it is our duty to guard that boundary."

He paused. From the faint sound of scratching, she was writing notes. Maybe it wasn't a journal. An inventory? Maybe this will be just the same. Walked half the world just to end up in the same place I had escaped. He thought her writing had stopped, and he took up a cup to cover the silence. Well, same place or not, I may as well be judged as a honest man.

"As was expected, I trained to join the army. Some of the finest soldiers, us Shienarans." He looked up from the cup, into those grey-blue eyes. They reminded him of- "I failed." He blurted it out, and spoke quickly to cover the abruptness. "I had the same training as my peers, but I wasn't taking to it. Maybe I'm slow, maybe I'm not the soldering type, but I wasn't taking to the training. I can swing a sword with some competence, and I likely could handle myself in a fight with another man." He stopped, and drunk more of the tea in the silence.

"Fighting another man may be one thing, but we are Shienarans. There may be Darkfriends, but it's Trollocs and Fades we're meant to fight against. At least, we should have a chance when we face them. But." He let the word trail off. His free hand had lingered to the pommel again, was gripping it. He couldn't find the mental fortitude to let it go. He repeated himself slowly, shaking his head. "But I cannot. The training in Fal Dara is regimented. You follow a set sequence of tasks and training, and you emerge a soldier. But when it came to me, that sequence of tasks produced this." He couldn't meet her eye now. He placed the empty cup down.

"I'm no fool. You ask if I will become a Warder? I have no answer for that. I come to be trained, properly. To be of use against the Shadow. I have no interest in being a merchant's guard or a sellsword. We say that duty is heavier than a mountain, up in the north. I feel that duty weighing upon me, and tempered as I am, I'm not strong enough yet to meet that challenge." He ended with a sigh, relieved that he had been able to get all of that out. It was hard to admit to failure, even if that very truth had marched him to the Tower.

He felt the silence linger, and realised he hadn't fully answered Mistress Bryne's questions. "I can't say why for certain why I didn't go to the White Tower. To think of it, that would have saved a lot of walking." He flashed a smile. "And another army, why could that be any better than Fal Dara's? I expect, for this training I'm looking for, that there will be a debt owed. If I have to pay this by becoming a Warder..." He nodded slowly. The answer had come to him only now. "I wouldn't say no. I don't know how the business of being a Warder, being paired, happens. But maybe, with the right woman." He glanced up, looking into those blue-grey eyes, then blushed. Light, I hope she didn't think I meant her! Light blinded fool, with child as well. He frantically looked for something else to settle his eyes on, and decided upon pouring another cup of tea and drinking quickly.

[Bree]

BEGINNING THE TOUR

Putting her pen down again, tearing the tag off the side of the page with the order for Ravak's room and uniforms. Ubriel said, "There are many things you must learn in the path to becoming a warder, or even in just being trained to our standard here. Today you will start with a tour and introduction. There is no oath or contract involved. Any such thing would be contrary to the point of training in this place. All I require is simply your acknowledgment that you have understood the rules and that you do, indeed, wish to stay here and train with us."

Ubriel watched her newest recruit and noted his acknowledgment. "Congratulations. You will begin training here with the rank Drin’far’ji. Welcome to the Warder Yard. You report to me for now. Once you begin lessons, you will have teachers that will be directly in command of you for those duties. You must realize something about this place. This is not an army. We are not regimented in that way. The Tower guard have those things; we have lateral ranking. Someone in authority over you for one thing may be your subordinate for another. There are three ranks below the three administrators of the Yard. Drin'far'ji, Ji'alantin and Gaidin are the ranks that you will aspire to progress through. In that order, they will have authority over your training, but laterally there are only temporary assignments of authority. Is that clear?"

Ubriel stood and smiled as she gestured toward the door and led the way on the beginning of the tour of the Yard. "Come with me, please.” She dropped the tag with the room order into a shallow basket on a table beside her door as she entered the hall. The system she had devised, with the help of Illyria Sedai of the Indigo Ajah, involved a simple Ward on that basket that resulted in a chiming sound emitted in Mistress Nel’s office. The stout and capable woman held a firm rein on the staff of the Warder Hall and she would answer that chime with a team sent to retrieve the order tag and prepare the room.

Ubriel led the way back down the stairs, through the great foyer, with the ancient symbol of Aes Sedai inlaid in the black and white marble of the floor, and out the back of the building. She continued her explanation as they walked, "I am the Mistress of Training and as such I will be responsible for overseeing your education in every facet. The Gaidar Captain, Miahala Gaidar, is responsible for the training and continuing education of the unbonded Gaidin and Gaidar, and discipline where required. Once bonded, we all come under the purview of the Tower and the Mistress of Arms, Amayani Gaidar. She handles the general rule of law and order for the Yard. But until then, you are my trainee as Drin and once you have achieved Ji'alantin, as well. If you have problems, questions or wish to discuss your training or living conditions or if you have broken the rules, you come to me." Outside, trainees and teachers were sparring or practicing or simply exercising in small groups, pairs or occasionally alone there in an expansive yard with hard packed dirt and sparse grass. “In these yards you will be tested and trained and beaten and built back up. You will need medical attention and you will cause others to need it. But you will learn.” Ubriel led them over to a group practicing unarmed combat styles. “One of the required lessons for all of our trainees is Unarmed Combat. A class is offered to get you started but I imagine you have some prior training.” Ubriel glanced at the drin and said, "Your skill will be determined as you progress through the class."

She gestured around at the other types of training happening loudly all over the yards. “You will need to choose another fighting style in which to train. We recommend that you begin with the weapon that you intend to use as your primary. You may want to consider dual wielding or shield use as your fighting style; making use of your “off-hand” for secondary attack as well as defense. Also, learning the techniques of using several various styles of bladed weapon like a pudao or an axe or even a spear can be very helpful when learning to fight against those weapons." Ubriel paused to allow him to take in the scene of the women and men fighting with long quarterstaves and other distance weapons and the group doing target practice with their ranged weapons. There were several groups of trainees practicing sword and shield melee as well as a few performing advanced techniques with more exotic weapons like the ones she had mentioned.

The teachers were obvious in the spars they observed, even when the opponents wore the same uniform. The more skilled fighter was the one who seemed to move slightly more effectively, land a few more strikes; need a little less time to rebound. That was the way of it. That was why they never stopped training. Even a blademaster could lose his edge without honing.

[OOC: Weapons skill can be earned in a specific weapon like sword. A fighting style such as shield use or environmental improvisation would be considered a Benefit that is earned separately. The ranks for males are Drin’far’ji, Ji’alantin and Gaidin. The ranks for females are Drin’far’ji, Ji’dar and Gaidar. The correct term of address is to use the rank following the name of the person; ie: Ubriel Gaidar or Mistress Ubriel or Sharin Ji’dar or Mistress Sharin. You can find all the diagrams and maps of the Warder Yard here and Tower here.
Please describe your impressions as you walk out into the Yard and look around. Please discuss anything that catches your attention or that you have a question about. This will complete your third post of six needed to qualify as an RR for promotion.

[Craig]

Ravak Darrow Ravak nodded in assent, surprised that there was no oath to take. Contrary to the point? He didn't understand what that meant. Surely oath-taking was an integral point of the Tower. Aes Sedai had to swear three oaths, and he supposed that Asha'man in this place also did. And Warders, well their oath became their duty. Clearly I have a lot to learn.

He listened and nodded appropriately as Mistress Bryne spoke. He was glad when she mentioned that this was not an army. That was exactly his hope, that the training here would be markedly different from his training in Fal Dara. Despite that, he still appreciated that there was a hierarchy. That meant that everything had a proper place, and he was oddly comforted knowing his place was at the bottom.

As they left the larger building, Ravak surveyed the training yards as Bryne did. He hadn't looked at the yards properly when he had come in. There was no mass training, with rows of soldiers practicing the same moves as one. They were dotted around in groups of two or three, or even alone. That sort of disorganisation was not what Rav was accustomed to. This was another sign of the difference in training. His mood lightened.

There were a variety of weapons on show that he would never have been able to train in Shienar. There were a few weapons he didn't even recognise, which included the pudao that Bryne mentioned. Rav already saw the longsword as his principal weapon. He looked around, trying to discern a weapon that interested him. As he scanned the training yards, his right hand was once again caressing the sword-breaker's pommel. He wasn't even aware he was doing it until he thought he had caught the Mistress of Training glancing at it. "I think I've decided on the sword-breaker as my second weapon," he stated with some confidence. Then, with diffidence, he added "I'm open to other weapons as well. Throwing daggers, or quarterstaffs, if you think a different style of weapon would be more suitable?"

He heard the uncertainty in his own voice. He looked away from the Mistress at some of the duels occurring around him. "Aside from weapon training, what else does the Tower teach?" He rubbed at his nose as another thought bubbled up. "We have thief-takers in Shienar, and their training isn't simply martial." He rubbed his nose again, musing in thought. There's a faint chance I may develop some skill in that regardless.

[Bree]

WEAPONRY

Ubriel found herself smiling. Finally, a recruit that is interested in developing his brain as well as his muscle. "We offer many opportunities for academic training as well as areas of independent study that can be conducted in the library here. Since you are an initiate of the Warder Yard, you will be mostly free to come and go, especially if you clear it with me first, from the grounds so you will be able to pursue research and study as you like. Many of our initiates who find themselves drawn to bond a Brown or Indigo brother or sister will discover an innate curiosity of their own regarding nature and history and artifacts. Some who choose to bond into the Green or Red might want to pursue an education in marshal training and leadership methods. Yellow and Blue tend to draw men and women who find study of social and economic areas interesting while politics and justice laws draw Grey and White. Do you think you may have interest in an academic study? Perhaps I can find you a tutor or mentor in that area."

Ubriel nodded at the Drin's answer and after a moment or so, Ubriel gestured to the right of them and led the way around the edge of the yard to a smaller building there. “This building is the weaponry hall. There are racks and racks of various sorts of weaponry. Both field and practice models are available for use. You will need to get the permission of the Master of Weapons or your mentor or teacher to remove any of them. If you want to just come in and look them over or even heft them, the hall is open during the day.” She stopped before the door and opened it, leading them inside.

The inside of the building was like a library. Instead of the stacks of books, there were rows and rows of sorted and arranged weaponry. One rack held nothing but a variety of two handed bastard swords and the rack next to it held the same sword in a practice variety. There were other racks with polearms of various types and another with axes. One held an assortment of short bows with their cousin longbows two racks over. All together they made for a shiny and dazzling spectacle.

Ubriel saw the look on the Drin’s face, nodded and smiled. “I see the long sword and the sword breaker case. I understand you have had some training in both. I myself came here with a quarterstaff. I thought I was good with it, but a few weeks here robbed me of that illusion. I have learned more than I ever thought was out there to learn. You will as well.” Her smile turned into a sincere grin, remembering the pummeling she had taken when she met her first real instructor in the staff. She thought she could probably do most of the pummeling now. "If those are the weapons that you are comfortable with, then you should probably continue your training with them. You will have plenty of time to pick up more weapons and learn new fighting styles if you feel compelled to do so. I have learned two others since arriving here with only a long stick and I am considering picking up a third."

[OOC: You can find more weapon descriptions here. If you are ever interested in something that you do not see a class or an available instructor for, PM me or any of the admin team and we can help you find the right way to find training. This will complete your fourth post of six needed to qualify as an RR for promotion.]

[Craig]

Ravak Darrow Ravak nodded thoughtfully as Mistress Bryne covered the different foci of the ajahs. He enjoyed settling into a chair, preferably in front of a warm hearth, with a book to read. That had allowed him to travel the world on the tales of heroes, before he had left on his own adventure to the Grey Tower. But do I really want to be bound to a bookworm? That may be stretching the idea of comfort a bit too far. Furthering his marshal training was of obvious interest, although a brief shudder ran through his spine when Bryne had mentioned bonding with a Red. Light preserve me from that! He couldn't disassociate himself with the White Tower's notion of what the Red Ajah stood for.

He turned his thoughts away from that, and back to the woman before him. "I would be open to academic study," he nodded. "Aside from my journey here, I haven't seen anything of the world outside the walls of Fal Dara. And I would presume I shall travel from this place in time, so learning something of the world would be..." He pursed his lips, feeling for the right world. "Pragmatic. It would be pragmatic." He saw the Mistress of Training's acknowledgement, and allowed himself a slight grin.

She led him around one of the yards into the Weaponry Hall. It dwarfed the armouries of Fal Dara with the assortment and variety of weapons, more so than he had seen from the bouts outside in the yard. He was a bit bewildered that there were so many weapons. I really do need some classes on the world. He shifted his shoulders, feeling the longsword strapped across his back, needing the reassurance of something familiar. He once again had a hand on his sword-breaker, although he wasn't aware of it.

Mistress Bryne saw the look of awe on his face, and she gave him a knowing smile. She began to regale how the training here would be challenging compared to any training he already had. That's good, Rav thought. He had to correct her on one point, however. "I actually have no formal training with the sword-breaker," he said with just a tinge of regret. "This is my father's blade, and it's just a memento without any training. If there is anyone who can train me, I'd be willing to learn." He had a look around the hall again, taking in the peculiarities of each armament. "Otherwise, I think the quarterstaff would be a good fit. Something with reach." It was also a pragmatic choice. Something akin to a quarterstaff could be easily made in a hurry, should the need arise. More so than one could improvise a longsword, or a sword-breaker.

The rapport between the drin'far'ji and the Mistress of Training was warmer than he had anticipated. Rav resolved to risk a little. "If you have the time, Mistress, I would appreciate learning the quarterstaff under your guidance."

[Bree]

ARMORY

"I'd be happy to. We can set it up after you get settled in here. I teach the quarterstaff a little differently than some. I have a distaste for rigid forms and tend to stay away from them. If you prefer to learn traditional forms, we have a couple of very good teachers that rely heavily on those. If you don't mind learning my free-form version of the quarterstaff, I very much enjoy teaching. You should look over the classes offered by everyone. There is alot to choose from." Ubriel smiled and clapped the Drin’s shoulder as she gestured back outside.

They crossed the practice yard to the opposite side and Ubriel said, “This is the armory. If and when you decide that you need any armor of any sort, this will be the place that you go to have it designed and fitted. The real forges for making armor on the Tower grounds are elsewhere but you won’t need to go there if you don’t want to.” Ubriel opened the door and led the way inside. She waved at an old man sitting in one corner in a very comfortable looking chair and polishing a breast plate. He seemed to ignore her entirely.

Lining the walls of the room they entered were various examples of full suits of armor of every type and style. There were leather and padded suits and jerkins, full and half plate, chain and scale mail and various types of helmetry all there for display and inspection. Ubriel grinned at the wonderment in the eyes of the new Drin. “Do you see anything you like?” Looking around and taking it all in again, she said, “You won’t really need to decide right away. Even the most dangerous training will only require you to wear a padded suit while participating.”

[OOC: There is a fair bit of useful description of armor here. Let me know if you need help finding a specific piece. If you want to write about actually visiting the forges, I have written of them being "past the building" or "Out at the forges" to keep it vague but always describe them as being out of the Yard and past the Tower proper a bit farther West not quite to the wood. This will complete your fifth post of six needed to qualify as an RR for promotion.]

[Craig]

Ravak Darrow Rav’s sense of warmness for Mistress Bryne was flourishing unbound. He was astounded how different the training and the mannerisms of the Grey Tower was compared to Shienar. The people, both Mistress Bryne and Mordjen, both had a good humour, but neither seemed soft. That sort of attitude wouldn’t be brooked in the Borderlands. He didn’t doubt that Mistress Bryne, burdened with motherhood or otherwise, would be able to put him on his back without much resistance.

As they left the Weaponry Hall and crossed the yard, Ravak watched the ground, but around him he could hear the sounds of combat. Wood struck against wood. Steel clashed with steel. He heard the thunks of arrows smacking into targets, and the distinctly different clunks of throwing daggers impacting against those same targets. It was a cacophony, but a welcoming one. I’m growing far too fond of this place far too quickly.

Ravak had a more muted reaction to stepping into the Armoury compared to the Weaponry Hall, having had some expectation of what was beyond the Armoury’s doors. Even though there had to be less suits of armour compared to the number of weapons, it was more impressive. He supposed it was that the armour took up more space, thus making the Armoury seem fuller.

He stepped deeper into the hall, having some idea of what he was looking for. His eyes glided over the plate and mail armour that was commonplace in Shienar; some of the pieces even looked Shienaran in design. Instead, he stopped in front of pieces of leather armour. He ran his right hand over one tunic, testing how supple it was. It reminded him of what his father sometimes wore, when inside the walls of Fal Dara. “I would be honoured if a piece such as this could be fitted for me, for when it is required.” He ran a hand through his hair. A custom set of armour, made for me. He felt a little blessed, and the sense of awe of this place continued to grow on him. Brushing dandruff absently from his chest and shoulders, he turned to the Mistress with a broad smile. It looked awkward on his face, like a painter had covered one person’s face with another’s mouth. “I guess a trip to the forge won’t be needed, for now.”

Edit: Fixing a typo.

[Bree]

ROOM ASSIGNMENT

Ubriel thought she could grow to like this fellow. He seemed to be a good fit and was glad the recruit had come to join them, "I'm sure it will be no trouble when the time comes. Much of your success here is going to depend on your own initiative and how much effort you are willing to expend to seek your own training. How much will you push yourself and what goals do you have for your own best self? We see it as our duty to help you attain what you decide to reach for. That is much of the reason there is no oath needed for initiates of the warder yard."

She gestured and led them back outside. "I am going to show you to your new room now and then leave you to settle in. You can request a mentor to show you the ropes and ask them to give you a tour of the entire grounds if you like or you can explore on your own. I am always available to answer questions or to give advice if you need it. The bell will sound for meal times but there is generally some kind of refreshment available in the Warder Hall dining area. Unlike the channelers, we work up the need for serious food and sometimes that means we need to eat in the middle of the night."

Ubriel chatted amiably as she led the Drin back to the dormitory and down a hall. As they followed the thin, decorative rug running down the center of the tiled hall floor, Ubriel explained about the rules of co-ed dormitories. Drin’far’ji were generally kept too busy and tired to be caught in any romantic entanglements but there was a rule to discourage such anyway. All trainees in the Yard were expected to be responsible for their own good decision making and to follow the rules of respect and politeness as well as the code of conduct. When they finally reached the room, the door was open and several stacks of folded linens, uniforms and toweling had been deposited there. "You will not have a roommate. I feel it is more conducive to well rested and well trained recruits to have some privacy. The door will lock from the inside but I and any of the other administration of the Yard will always have a key. Your key," she handed over a chain with two identical keys on it, "will lock and unlock the door from outside." Do you have any further questions for me?"

[OOC: You may end this thread with a simple description of your room or you may decide to carry on this thread for as long as you need to answer questions of explore IC. If you would like to accept a mentor, we can find and introduce you to one from here as well. If you would like to have Ubriel show you around other parts of the Grey Tower, just ask! This will complete your all of the posts needed to qualify as an RR for promotion.]