The Grey Tower

The small window in the Gaidin Captain's office banged loudly over the sounds of the gale that assaulted the Grey Tower. Three minutes ago the sky had been the purest blue. Ravak strained to reach the clasp, and with far too much effort, locked the window with a click.

He turned back to see the devastation wrought by the unseasonably frozen air. Someone either forgot to warn him that Cloud Dancing was on the agenda for the day, or an Accepted or Dedicated was about to find themselves in a world of trouble. Either way, it meant that all outside activities would be off the agenda. Rav stalked back into his office, planting himself in front of his desk, and moved the day's schedule onto one of the other tables. "Thank you, whomever you were."

Snowflake nuzzled against the back of his leg, and Rav could feel her cold nose through the fabric of his breeches. Letting the presence of the husky sooth his consternation, he bent down to give the lovable sop a hug. It had turned out that Rina's - Kaira's wet nurse - dislike for animals had been beneficial.

A few minutes later, Ravak emerged from his office with Snowflake in tow. The white fuzzball marked the coming and goings of the Master of Training as much as his sharp words or harsh expressions. Well, no sharp words for the trainees today. There was still time to reorganise things for a day of indoor training, but he opted not to. When he descended the staircase into the main foyer of the Warder Hall, to the attentive stares of the assembled Drin and Ji'val, he grinned broadly. Confusion warred on some of their faces, open fear on some of the newer recruits. That just set him off chuckling, which only further enhanced their disquiet.

"All classes are cancelled," he announced in a clear voice. It was immediately followed by a cheer which he had to wait to die down before speaking again. "Any indoor chores are still on the schedule, but otherwise you are free from the day. I'll be sure to pass on your thanks to the clever channeller who decided they'd had enough of summer." That brought a little more laughter and cheering, before they began to disperse as Ravak descended the rest of the way down the stairs.

Well, everyone else was happy, but the Master of Training was at a loss what to do with himself. He certainly wanted to go straight back to his apartments to see Kaira, and Rina and Weland -- the latter being some servant Elia had recommended. Still, if he disappeared now, it may seem like he had been looking for an opportunity to give himself the day off, which was not the intent. Not all of the Drin and Ji'val had vanished to their rooms or decided to brave the outdoors, regardless of the weather. He cast an eye about for someone, anyone, who could give him an excuse to...

A Mayener moved down the other staircase in an impeccably neat black uniform. He looked to be a touch older than the Master of Training, but there was no sword nor dragon attached to his collar. That wasn't so rare as to be remarked upon, but it did help to make him stand out. There was also something a bit familiar with the soldier, which is what drew Ravak across the room to stop him at the bottom of the staircase.

"Soldier," he stated formally. One word was enough to make the man stop and stand to attention. A military man, mm? There was still something familiar about-- "I've seen you in the company with Katrie Sedai, haven't I?" Rav grinned. Anyone who was in the Brown's sphere of influence was going to be an interesting person to get to know, plus Rav liked Browns in general. "Come with me."

Rav ascended the staircase again, not glancing back to see if the Soldier was following, but he could hear footsteps and paw prints behind him. He turned right at the top, moving beyond his old office towards one of the classrooms. A soft mat covered most of the floor, rimmed by a few feet of wood along the walls. Practice weapons of various styles were set on weapon racks that were set at even distances around the room.

The Shienaran gestured off-handedly to the weapons. "Pick one. You've stumbled into a personal training session with the Master of Training himself." Rav grinned, wondering how the man was going to take that comment. As a threat? A challenge? A veiled boast of his own prowess? He undid his sword belt, resting the two real blades against a corner of the room, then took up two bundled sword lathes. He spun the weapons in a showy fashion as he turned back to address the soldier. Snowflake was laying on the floor by the doorway, seeming content to be a passive observer. "What's your name? And what's your thoughts on Asha'man needing to know about swordsmanship?" Most channellers thought it prudent to know how to fight without the One Power, but that didn't stop him from asking.

It had been a perfectly warm day, not summer in Mayene, but definitely not this. The icy wind bit deep into his very bones. Some Dedicated had been playing with the weather. Looking out a window, he could see the results trailing across the sky, threads of Saidin lingered in the sky like the after image of a lightning strike. While servants scurried around looking for firewood to warm the rapidly chilling Tower, Alric angled back to his temporary quarters. Another layer of small clothes wouldn’t be a miss. Passing another window, overlooking the city, Alric’s heart went out to the townsfolk. Not all of them would have firewood standing by, or be able to afford to go and get some. This unseasonable temperature change might be rather dangerous for the young and the elderly. He wondered if the plants would suffer any ill results. Depending on how far this spread and how long it lasted, farmers might lose some of their more fragile crops. He could at least observe the plants around the Tower. Maybe he could predict some long term effects. Hopefully though, it wouldn’t become a problem and someone more acquainted with the Power than he would wrestle things back into order.

He’d made it to the bottom of the stairs when he came face to face with the Gaidin Captain. Planning to keep walking with a respectful nod and greeting, he froze, snapping to attention when the man addressed him in an authoritative voice. Some instincts didn’t easily fade. Maybe it was for the best, he had never been accused of not showing enough deference.

The conversation took off rolling like a boulder down a hill. Before he could confirm that he was indeed Katrie Sedai’s apprentice, the Gaidin had ordered him to follow. So back up the stairs they went. Alric shivered again, So much for extra small clothes. Then again, if he disobeyed a direct order from Ravak Darrow, the cold would be the least of his worries. A large white dog padded along beside him and scratched its head as they walked. He followed the man to what appeared to be an indoor training room.

Apparently they were going to spar now. Not even a, How was your day?. At least they were using practice weapons, this time. Doing as directed, Alric began picking through the training swords, feeling their weight and balance.

“My name is Alric Aurella,” he answered, hefting blades and thinking over a response to Ravak’s question. “In my opinion, the One Power is a good equalizer,” he began in a thoughtful voice. “If I was small or sickly, I could take solace knowing that I can wrap somebody up in air before they could lay a hand on me. Beyond practicality though, Asha’man have a martial tradition. The sword’s still one of our rank insignia. When the Black Tower chose it they chose it for a reason. The Grey Tower didn’t just keep it for the aesthetics. Same with the ranks. We’re Soldiers, not Novices. We train to be Guardians, not Servants.” Before this conversation, he’d only given it the barest of thoughts. He’d mostly thought of the question from the prospective of utility. Deep down he realized, training with a weapon had certain symbolic roots. “Even if I can level a mountain with the One Power, I won’t stop training with my sword. It’s a symbol. No matter what Ajah I choose, I can and will always be able to draw my sword and defend myself or others.”

Once he’d selected a practice blade that suited him, Alric removed his long, black coat, folding it neatly and setting it aside.

Taking up a position across from the Gaidin, he dropped into the Lion on the Hill pointing the tip of his sword towards his opponent. “Any rules or stipulations you want to put forth?” Alric asked. He let his breath even out and fed any trepidation about the upcoming fight into the Flame. He floated in the Void, alone but aware of everything.

Alric Aurella. He recognised 'Alric' as someone Katrie had spoken about in the past, but 'Aurella' triggered a different itch in the back of Ravak's head. I've heard Aurella before... somewhere. He frowned at the weapon racks, not really thinking as he took up two swords of different lengths. The longest bundle of lathes went into his right hand, with the shortsword serving in place of his sword-breaker.

"The Black Tower. And Guardians." Rav mused the thoughts aloud. "The Black Tower has never struck me to be a place of Guardians. But then, the White Tower didn't seem to be bristling with servants neither." He turned around to face the Mayener, who had selected a single sword. Going one against one may have been considered curtesy, but curtesy was not always shown on the battlefield. I'll just go easy, pull my blows. He didn't do that too often in training, but Drin and Ji'val tended to be made of sturdier stuff.

That sense of superiority didn't last any longer. As Alric slipped into The Lion on the Hill, the itch at the back of his mind disappeared. "Rules or stipulations for the Blademaster?" Rav asked solemnly. He may have gone for The Lion on the Hill himself, straight into Lightning of Three Prongs. Three Prongs had been his signature move whilst a Drin, although he learnt the weakness of the form later on. The Gaidin instead went for Apple Blossoms in the Wind, a low guard to counter Alric's high. His longsword pointed groundwards whilst the shortsword remained close to his body for a mid-to-high attack. "I can think of two rules. One, if either of us cries "Stop", then we stop. And two, keep things below the neck. If either of us wishes to go without Healing, at least we won't have to worry about black eyes or split lips. Agreed?"

Bloody— I’m not a Blademaster, those rumors had begun to resurface recently. He thought those rumors had died off shortly after his arival. However, if the string of challengers he’d faced on the Yards was any indicator, there were only two ways to end the rumors, lose handily or actually become a blademaster. Alric wasn’t in the business of losing, especially just to prove a point. “Any rumors you’ve heard are probably exaggerations,” Alric said wryly as is opponent squared off against him.

Alric held his opponents gaze. In the Void, he could feel even the most miniscule shifts in the air. No thought, no warning. Just action. Toes digging into the mat, Alric pushed off on strong calves. The Lion Springs, his lathe lashed out and up. In battle, one’s objective was to swiftly overwhelm and incapacitate one’s foe before moving onto the next opponent. Following this logic, Alric was already bringing is weapon around to launch into Wind and Rain hoping to maintain his momentum and prevent the Master of Training from regrouping.

Below the neck, he thought wryly. Rav stepped back from the attack that seemed intent on his chin, his shortsword coming forward to parry and push Alric's blade aside. The loud crack made Snowflake's ears twitch and bright eyes widen, but she remained at rest by the doorway. Some of the training on her had paid off at least.

The chinward assault was only a solitary move, and if he'd been focusing the Gaidin would have realised that quicker. As soon as the Mayener's blade had repositioned to the side, point low, the bundle of lathes came whipping up in a move aimed for his opponent's chest. Rav leaped back so that the rounded cap of wood missed by a clear three inches.

Rav snorted. At himself, not at Alric. The man's a bloody Blademaster, by some level of skill or luck. That the blade resided with a number of other heron-marked swords in Riahana's study made no difference. He was being cocky, and that didn't suit him. As he parried and dodged thrusts, Ravak let the solemnity of the ko'di envelop him. He pushed away all of the extraneous thoughts that failed to benefit him in this duel to a distant corner of his mind, leaving everything else to focus on his own movements, and that of his enemy's.

He watched the Mayener's footwork. A fundamental of almost any sort of fighting, it also choreographed the moves one would make before the rest of the body followed. Rav let himself be pushed further backwards into the room and it had just the desired effect. Alric overextended, and Rav pressed the advantage with The Sapling Trembles: using his longsword to strike at Alric's wrist. The Mayener wasn't the only one versed in Kubotai Gaidin's style of swordplay.

Alric reveled in the sound of their lathes clashing. Even in the Void, the impact traveling up his made him feel alive. His follow up attack hit empty air as Ravak dodged back. The Gaidin went on the attack with The Sapling Trembles, weapon arcing towards Alric’s wrist. A fight ending outcome with live blades.

No thought, just action and reaction. Alric pulled his arms back, tucking the sword’s pummel against his chest and pivoted. Instead of taking his wrist, the Gaidin’s weapon struck the base of his own blade. With a grunt of exertion, he stepped in close and shoved out, using the weapons handguard to push Ravak and his sword out of line. The move was more that of a brawler than a classically trained swordsman, but when the chips were down, utility always trumps style.

The shove quickly turned into Two Hares Leaping as Alric barreled forward hammering his opponent’s guard with a pair of cross slashes, left then right. With each swing, he could feel the singular thrill and sense of purpose that came with from pitting his skills against an opponent. For Alric, when he fought, nothing else mattered, everything made sense. Despite or maybe because of the Void, any worries or anxieties were pushed away and replaced with serene feeling of rightness.

Outside of the ko'di, Ravak may have snorted again at the less than honourable shunt. True, there was seldom any honour in warfare -- living was the goal -- but this was just a training spar. At least it helped to show what sort of person Alric the Blademaster was. He had the right sort of outlook on life.

Stumbling back, Rav parried with both blades parallel with the ground. The upwards strike clattered against his longsword, whilst the downwards assault was turned aside with the 'sword-breaker'. If he'd had his actual sword-breaker, the Shienaran could have caught the blade in the notches and attempted a disarm. Instead he did what he could, clasping for the briefest respite to centre himself.

Ravak slipped into The Creeper Embraces the Oak, using brief pokes and prods a la The Cat Dances on the Wall to feel Alric out. The soldier was a curiosity, albeit a pleasant one. Rav relished the challenge of a new combatant, especially one with skill. He must have been discovered late. They seemed of an age, even if the ranks separated them out. But he did have a heron-marked sword. There's no disputing that.

Lathes clattered together in rapid succession as Ravak’s Cat Dances on the Wall was tested by Alric’s Wind and Rain. Gaidin’s short and long blades flicked out to bat aside Alric’s attacks, but the Soldier kept pushing.

This man was the Master of Training right? He must be going easy on me, Alric thought. There was no other way he could have kept the man on the back foot for so long. Whatever the rumors said, he was no Blademaster. That Tairen was a fluke, he’d simply gotten unlucky at the worst time. Fluke or not, there wasn’t anything to do but capitalize on the momentum.

Don’t let him recover, Alric thought gritting his teeth. He steeled himself, dropping into The Ox Lowers His Horns, and launched himself towards the Gaidin. He’d probably take a wound, but he was going in for the kill. He lowered his blade in Parting the Silk, as he stepped past his opponent, angling a precise draw cut across his abdomen.

The shaggy-haired Shienaran calculated the possibilities when Alric dropped into The Ox Lowers His Horns. The balance of his fight had always been in the Mayener's favour offensively. It was time to recover lost ground. Any oncoming attack was going to be coming above the waist, so he got his longsword in position to parry or deflect. He had the both the time and the speed to determine where the attack was going to hit, leaving him free with his 'sword-breaker'.

Rav had anticipated a couple of moves, but the targeted strike aimed at his abdomen was not one. He flat out parried the offending blade, wood scraping along wood as Alric moved past. He pushed out and up, forcing Alric to expose his flank. Rav aimed a couple of quick strikes at his opponent's sides, spun back and out of the reach of any counter, and dropped back into The Kingfishers Watch the Sky; a variation of the singular Kingfisher Watches the Sky, both of his blades were held horizontally across his body, with his shortsword closest to his body. Any attack or block he came out with in his dominant hand would be mirrored by the shorter blade.

The two men spun apart trading blows and parries. Alric felt a tug on his shirt a sued tipped lathe dragged across his ribs. First blood went to Ravak then, unsurprisingly. In a real fight, this wouldn’t be a life threatening, or even a debilitating injury, but it would be a distraction and a source of blood loss. These kinds of wounds added up and could bring down even the fiercest warrior, he’d seen it happen. He’d killed many himself.

Alric dropped into The Creeper Embraces the Oak, one of his preferred stances against single opponents and advanced slowly. He pushed his wish to land a telling blow into the Flame. He needed to remain flexible. He held his opponent’s steady gaze, keeping his own breathing slow and deliberate. His advance slowly drifted to the right, forcing Ravak to turn to keep him in sight. Options flowed out before him in the Void. He could continue his offensive but Ravak had managed to break his momentum. He could try again, bash down the Gaidin’s guard with Boar Rushes down the Mountain, then finish him with Kissing the Adder or—

A spark of inspiration hit him. In a blur of black fabric, Alric quickly leapt to the left, the complete opposite of the direction he’d been circling and let his sword whip out low in the The Leopard’s Caress. Not caring if the blow landed, Alric leapt back, goading his opponent, ready to meet any follow up attacks with Black Pebbles on Snow.