Proud People Breed Sad Sorrows (Open)

[Chris]

The gardens were quiet at this time of day. Most people were performing chores or having their midday meal, but Murdock opted for neither. The lean man could not be found anywhere in the Grey Tower, not unless one knew where to look. And should one stray close enough to sense Saidin being seized, or hear the mutterings of a low voice behind a copse of trees, then they could well catch Murdock performing some Healing on small animals. Today? Another bird. They were plentiful.

This session would end in the same way as the previous ones. “No, that’s not right,” the man muttered to himself, rolling his sleeves up and leaning over to get a better look at the grassy mound in front of him. “Spirit, Fire, and Earth. It should have worked. They were the smallest of threads!”

But birds were not as hardy as Murdock’s control over Saidin, and his ability at Healing, thought they were. The shock was too much for them. Every single time.

He was starting to run out of room for where to bury them.

With a defeated sigh, Murdock leaned back until his head butted the brick wall behind him. In this part of the Gardens he thought he was at least a little private, just himself and the copse of trees around him with a small grove where he could test out his Healing in private. After trying to Heal the first bird and failing, he had buried it here and moved on to the next one. And the next. He couldn’t help himself, every time one died he resolved to try harder, do better, and fix the next one. It was so easy to snap the wing of a little bird with a bit of Air, and leave it writhing on the ground whilst he applied the Healing weaves he had learned. But... but they never worked. Each time he did something different, tried to anyway, but to no avail. Sometimes the wing started to heal, he could gather that much, and sometimes it did nothing. Other times he only seemed to make the bird worse (apart from the whole dead thing).

He had to stop, Murdock knew this. He lacked the training to get very far with Healing a bird, modifying the weaves to be a success without a tutor. He was unable to do anything for these creatures and yet here he was, trying it out and doing more harm than good. Over and over again. At this rate he was going to run out of places to bury the remains of these birds – he normally tucked them in the ground with a few hasty weaves of Earth, but it was obvious where the graves lay and soon enough he would need to find a new location to practice, or maybe a new way of getting rid of the birds.

“If you would let me help you instead of dying on me, that would be great,” he muttered, eyeing the newest dead bird lying before him. He butted his head against the wall behind him (just the once, Light that was a bad idea) and rolled his eyes up towards the sky, opting to ignore the bird for a moment. He could bury it momentarily, but for now he was going to ignore it. Why? Because when he stared upwards at the cloudless sky, the bird was still alive. It wasn’t lying there broken before him, dead by his hands. It was somewhere else, trailing through the trees of the Grey Tower. Heck, it probably had a family like he did. Maybe not at this time of year but somewhere, some random bird was missing its mother. It didn’t know this, but it would never see its parent again and one day it would hit them like an Ogier fist to the stomach...

“What in the Light is wrong with me?” the man asked the air. The rustling of the trees was his only answer.

He had to stop doing this. He could find an Asha’man and ask for the training, the proper training to Heal better or to at least stop killing things. Murdock scrambled back to his knees and found a patch of grass where he could bury his final bird, but Saidin wasn’t quite ready to be handled yet thanks to his block. Giselle was the furthest thing from his mind right then and without her there, he had no Saidin. Rare was the occasion Murdock wasn’t thinking of Giselle but instead of trying to channel in this way, he instead began to tear at the ground with his bare hands, determined to make a pit for the bird manually. One way or another, this was over.

[Craig]

Ravak

Working through an apple, Ravak Darrow meandered slowly through the Tower's Gardens. He had changed considerably in the last few months since earning the dark grey of a Ji'alantin. His pale face was partially concealed beneath a thick beard, more brown than red. That still itched, occasionally. Better than going without. He used to cover his neck with a black scarf, but that had been ruined during his survival test. The other visibly noteworthy change was how he had bulked out. Two years ago, even with a year's worth of training in Fal Dara, he had been slim and shapeless. Brawny was a better description for the Shienaran now.

It wasn't just physical changes that had overcome the Ji'alantin. He had been sullen before, although company pulled him free of that. Now he was stern and focused. No, just focused. Events had forced him to take his training even more seriously than he had before. He allowed himself a rare grin. These events all had one thing in common. Women. He could cover on one hand the number of male friends he had, and that number had just diminished recently. The grin vanished, and he pushed that unbidden thought away. No, Rav knew that there was an end in sight, and he wanted to reach that end as quickly as he could.

Another bite of the apple, and Rav glanced at it with confusion. He saw pale, juicy flesh, but tasted something rotten. A telltale taste began to build up as soon as he had swallowed. Grimacing in aggravation, he slipped the remainder of the fruit into his pocket, and took a deep breath. Instead of being greeted by the aromatic smell of a hundred plants, noxious fumes seemed to seep into him. He shuddered. This was far beyond what he was used to on a daily basis.

The look of concern on the Shienaran's face had everything to do with that smell that no-one else would have been able to detect. Like his father before him, Ravak had developed a nose for evil; that was how he thought of it. Violence was a part of what he could pick up on. He had caught a thief in the Gardens once with it, and had also smelt the foulest form of murder up in the Blight. This scent was none of those, although closer to the latter than the former.

After a few minutes of tracking the scent - he had only just started to understand that he could track a scent - and he was pushing through an unfamiliar copse of trees. "What are you hiding?" he muttered to the surrounding tree trunks.

Rav made his way through until he saw the clearing, and stopped abruptly. A Dedicated or Soldier - he was too distant to see if there was a pin or not - was digging at the ground with his bare hands. He was also at the wrong angle to see the expression on the man's face, but his need to dig was very apparent. Rav ran a tongue across his teeth, considering. He knew there was something reprehensible about the man, but he could see no signs of it. A few moments more, and the Ji decided to press on. Better to confront the danger. His right hand was on his sword-breaker's hilt as he pushed out into the clearing.

He made his voice hard, commanding. "Soldier." There was no pin on the man's neck after all. The man's head turned, brown eyes returning a solemn expression. Rav thought he had missed his mark. But how?

"Soldier," he repeated, "Do you mind explaining what you're doing, tearing up the Gardens? I can think of at least one Accepted who'd tan you for this transgression." The right mix of serious and friendly, he hoped.

Edit: Fixing typos.

[Chris]

Murdock’s resolve to see this practice put to a stop was just a little too late. Another moment and the bird would be buried, the soil placed over it so nobody would ever know what had happened. But that was not to be. He hadn’t heard the man approach, whether that was through being distracted or a testament to the stealth of the trainee Warder Murdock could not say, but it was more likely that he had simply been oblivious to the world around him. What were the chances of being caught now, when he had been uninterrupted here numerous times before?

Dark eyes lifted to meet the man before him. There was nothing he could do to hide this scenario, or paint it out to be any better than it truly was. Had it been another Soldier he could have perhaps earned some form of camaraderie should he so choose, or even talk the man around to his way of thinking, but that wasn’t going to work on a non-channeller. This man’s attire said he was one of the Ji’alantin, and for that reason he had to show deference – and an appropriate level of honesty. So the man got to his feet, muddy hand lifting into a sharp salute which a more observant person might allow was suitable for a trainee, not a fully ranked Warder. Murdock knew his place, but he liked to keep people in perspective with their own as well. Though he wasn’t in the habit of upsetting people who could make his life uncomfortable, certainly not when they had Tower training at their disposal and, judging by this fellow, what he lacked in height (most people seemed short to the gangly Murdock) he made up for in strength. No doubt he could deliver a mean blow and Murdock was keen to avoid that level of an altercation until he was more confident in his own abilities to throw people around without a weapon.

“Sir,” he said, which was a good start. When he lowered his hand, he left a smudge of dirt along his temple. It went ignored. He spoke calmly, carefully, as if this was an everyday occurrence; an easy feat when one was generally laconic, and had experienced too much heartache to be truly troubled by less serious matters. “I was burying a bird. I thought somewhere inconspicuous might keep those same Accepted happy.” This much was clear from the way the shallow grave was now on display, with the animal lying nearby.

But that was all Murdock had to offer on the subject for the time being, because pointing out that this was not the first bird to be buried by his hands seemed rather tactless without it being discovered first. Apologise for getting caught, rather than confessing everything straight away – with any luck the man might well leave him to his own devices after this. Murdock was still being honest, but the thoughts about what people said about Aes Sedai not telling the whole truth did spring to mind then, and the jaded Soldier’s years of training were the only thing that prevented a big grin from crossing his face. This might not be the best place to practice such a thing, and he was no woman besides, but it was simply common sense to him to not give the whole story right away. “Permission to finish my task, Sir?” Murdock couldn’t help but ask.

[Craig]

Ravak

Certain of a more cowed reaction from the Soldier, Ravak was a little put off when the man's reply was so calm, and his actions so humane. Blue-grey eyes bore a steely glare. Rav was convinced that there was more to the situation. The smell, definitely from the man himself, rankled strongly; it reminded him of the Blight in a way. Part of the Shienaran's scowl could be attributed to that alone.

Rav took a moment to pause, considering. The man opposite him didn't seem like a law breaker, aside from the stench. His expression was notable in its indifference, even though his words were suitably deferential in tone. A soft voice marked him apart from his looks. Tilted features and a hooked nose spoke of a Saldaean background, but like himself and Katrie, this appearance did not match his nationality. Lastly, there was that face. Not that the Soldier had at least ten years on him, although it mildly amused Rav that he was in authority here. No, that face had features that spoke of loss; mournful eyes and the downturning at the corners of his mouth.

The Ji ran his tongue over his teeth again, catching a layer of sliminess. He looked at the dead bird with muted curiosity. I did sense a dead horse once. Could a bird be the cause of this? Rav thought it unlikely. Even if he didn't fully understand his own ability, a single bird wouldn't cause this much upset. Something deeper and darker had occurred, and he wanted to get to the bottom of it.

He scratched at his beard, puzzled. His right hand remained on his sword-breaker's hilt, ready to attack if required. Honestly, he hoped it wouldn't come to that. "You can bury the bird, then you'll tell me the rest." It was delivered in a flat tone. Let the other man worry about how I know something else is going on. People knew about thief-takers for sure, but very few knew about or had this sense for violence. And if he did know? Well, that simply meant that the man wouldn't be able to deny it. "And what's your name Soldier? My own is Ravak."

[Chris]

Waiting with one hand clasping the other wrist, Murdock let the Drin’far’ji assess the situation further, offering little more than a rather stoic look his way and, as the man scratched at what had to be a rather itchy beard, a couple of slow blinks. He looked to be a man who thought before he fought, though the hand at his weapon said he wasn’t above using it if he needed to. Murdock didn’t have his sword to hand, nor was he inclined to use it, though he supposed if he really wanted to he could use Saidin. As if he would, that was a most terrible idea, but a sword wouldn’t keep the man safe from that would it?

It really hadn’t taken Murdock long to get into the mindset of an Asha’man, arrogant and self assured even when everything was falling to pieces around him. Unfortunately he still had the experience and rank of a Soldier, so he had to “roll with the punches” as it were. That was what they said in unarmed combat.

The man, whose name was Ravak, seemed well aware that there was more than what met the eye. How? Murdock couldn’t say, but it wasn’t really his place to question. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t question, but it did mean he had to be careful around this fellow. The overturned patches of earth were obvious to Murdock, but he knew where these other graves were. Ravak was a newcomer to the scene.

“My name is Murdock,” he informed the man, “Light shine on you. I will bury the bird.” With that he returned to his former position on his knees before the hole, where with a degree of familiarity and care he set about burying the bird.

Throughout this the tall Soldier remained silent, his dark eyes downcast as he scooped the cold earth over the dead animal’s body. He wanted the rest of the story, and although Murdock had resolved to offer such a thing should the need arise, now the moment drew closer he was drawing it out a little longer than he really had to. He focussed on the lifeless animal’s burial, at least physically, whilst his mind worked on finding the optimum explanation that would offer the truth whilst getting him into the least amount of trouble possible. Light, how do Aes Sedai do this? he had to ask himself. Even if he did manage to accomplish this task, he had no way of knowing how well it would work on this fellow.

There were no satisfactory resolutions to this quandary Murdock found himself in.

Soon enough he was patting now brown hands over the most recent of little mounds, signalling the loss of another bird. There was no use in delaying the inevitable, or at least that’s what Murdock told himself as he stood once more. Hands clasped one another in front of him loosely, and he said “the bird died because it was injured, so I attempted to Heal it. My attempt was unsuccessful. So I resolved to bury it – no use crying over spilled milk.” Giving out the minimum required information may well be drawing this out, which was something he had initially resisted, but at the end of the day only a fool would offer a foot when asked for a toe. No, Ravak would have to draw the rest of it out first. Whilst a small part of him wanted to question what made the man so flaming sure that there was something he was missing, well, there was no need to antagonise a grumpy looking man who could well flaunt his rank if he realised just how depraved the Soldier was.

[Craig]

Ravak

Rav watched the Soldier cover up the body of the animal. There was definitely something unnerving about this man, beyond the smell. Murdock seemed so unperturbed by everything, it was almost unnatural. This wasn't the calm serenity of an Aes Sedai or Asha'man, and he wasn't about to imitate a Yellow in trying to delve into whatever was the root cause of the Soldier's strangeness. Then there was that whole "Permission to finish my task, sir?" Maybe that hadn't been true deference. This was a puzzle for sure.

When Murdock had finished, he straightened to face the Ji. The man had at least a hand on Rav in height, but his body was gangily. Not a physical threat at least. That he was thinking about combat indicated a lot.

Murdock spoke in that soft voice, his words completely incongruous with his meek posture. "The bird died because it was injured, so I attempted to Heal it." The emphasis on "Heal" was clear to Rav's ears. That alone was grounds for punishment, as the Ji'alantin understood. No channelling without a Dedicated or Asha'man present. But he announces it as if it was nothing, as if he did not care for the punishment. Maybe the Master of Soldiers was softer than the Mistress of Training, but he doubted it. Channellers, men and women, had to be worked hard. There were dangers to channelling without proper training.

The Soldier had more to say. "My attempt was unsuccessful. So I resolved to bury it. No use crying over spilled milk."

Rav scratched at the long hairs underneath his chin. "I'm not much for gallows humour," he responded dryly. He hoped it was just gallows humour. This man was dark, otherwise. Daelar may be cantankerous, but Murdock needed another description that presently evaded the Shienaran's grasp.

That smell. Light, he wished he had more control over it. His senses seemed to howl with the wrongness of the man, his mind straining to put clues together to form a genuine picture of what was unseemly. He had to assume the ko'di to push all of those vagrant thoughts away, focusing solely on what he could see before him.

In the ko'di, his voice came out flat and even, any touch of emotion removed. "Aside from Healing this bird, the knowledge of which I'm sure Soti Asha'man would take poorly, what else have you been doing? I can see other mounds, other birds I take it? An Asha'man or Dedicated may have been able to help you with your plight."

Edit: Fixing typos

[Chris]

Murdock wasn't one for gallows humour either, so when his words were mistaken for such he had two options. He could either nod and smile and pretend that was what he was going for, or he could deny that he was trying to be funny. Alternatively, he could simply say nothing. That was the option Murdock went for, finding that it was far easier to say little and let people assume what they liked, instead of opening his mouth and letting them come to facts which were much closer to the truth. His silence and his somewhat resigned expression might not be the most welcome, but at least they were safe.

It seemed that luck was not on his side today as the man before him had picked up on the other mounds of earth, and come to the accurate conclusion that they were previous attempts at Healing. For all his desire to tell the truth (in moderate amounts, but always the truth), the survivalist part of Murdock wanted to object and deny. No, no birds here, see for yourself, there's nothing under these mounds. Nothing at all. Dare you to dig your hands in and find out with your fingers. But there was little point in doing that and if he was going to get into trouble over this, then he was going to do it honestly. Murdock could be called a lot of things, but he wasn't a liar. Remembering two stories instead of one, and who you told them to, was hard work indeed. Ravak seemed to have a way of getting to the point and the Soldier did not fancy testing this, especially when he took on that calm, somewhat detached voice he recognised when men assumed the void for channelling. Either Ravak was going to dispense some physical discipline or he was keeping a lid on his temper, neither of which were ideal situations to be on the receiving end of. Murdock would have to explain himself without being too elaborate, but detailed enough that it would mostly satisfy the bearded man's questions.

"I wanted to teach myself to Heal," he informed Ravak without preamble. This would be enough to draw whatever conclusions Ravak may - that he had performed this attempt more than once, that he was unsuccessful, that he had neglected to seek training elsewhere. Pointing out that it was better to accidentally kill birds than it was people, would probably not go down very well if "gallows humour" was not Ravak's forte. "Informing you that I came to the same conclusion and was going to seek assistance from a Dedicated would be too little, too late, so I will accept whatever penance you and the Master of Soldiers deem appropriate for the situation." He was somewhat regretful that he was caught, but that was different to being truly sorry. If Murdock was genuinely apologetic for what he had done, then surely he wouldn't have done it in the first place. He certainly wasn't going to apologise for his actions, but he could at least make a show of remorse. "I'm sorry you have been inconvenienced by this." Still calm and matter of fact, but Murdock wasn't going to get himself into a state like some child Novice would. As unpleasant as the rest of his day was going to be, he would endure and move on, as he always had. And unlike with Giselle's passing, this would be easier to carry on his slim shoulders.

[Craig]

Ravak

Dry and, in some aspects, logical. Not logical to self-teach himself Healing, but he'd reasoned out what would happened if he lied as much as if he told the truth. Maybe Rav had missed the mark, at least slightly. A little knot of guilt formed in the Ji's gut. He had threatened this man with the Master of Soldiers, and because of Murdock's own words, Rav had no choice but to follow through.

"Right, come on then," he said with only half a heart. He did feel inconvenienced, not least because his quiet walk around the gardens had been ruined. Retrieving the half-eaten apple from his pocket, he ate as the two of them picked their way back through the trees, to one of the gardens' gravelled paths. His other hand hovered near to his scabbard, but Murdock seemed... resigned? The Shienaran didn't have a good enough feel for the Soldier's character to say much more, but from the average man, we would have said resignation painted his face.

As they walked, the red-haired man slowly relaxed, even if the smell didn't fade. Maybe something the Master of Soldiers could get out of him, but then he would never know... Finishing the apple, Rav decided to break the silence. "You're new to the Tower." That was obvious. Even if he didn't know every Novice or Soldier on sight, he would have smelt the man's wrongness before now. "Are you considering the Yellow Ajah already, practising your Healing like that? I've found that most people take their time to consider their Ajahs." He scratched at his beard thoughtfully.

[Chris]

Ravak didn’t seem all too keen to take Murdock to the Master of Soldiers, but there was no sympathy from Murdock as he wiped his hands on his trousers and followed the shorter man out of the copse they had hidden themselves away in. Heading back, he could appreciate just how awkwardly difficult it was to find someone around these parts, and that niggling desire to know how he had been detected gnawed at Murdock for a moment before he remembered himself. It was irrelevant.

The Soldier put his hands behind his back at he walked, feeling the gritty soil that remained still. One more bird buried. He was starting to get used to the soil there – he could tell that it had rained recently, even without having eyes to see the sky for himself. A few hours ago perhaps? But not too much. He thought on this as they walked, rather uncurious about Ravak now they were walking. Away from the bird’s resting place the brawny man was less intimidating, probably because they were in a public place rather than a private one. Not that Murdock had expected some sort of attack, though the man did keep his hand near his weapon more than was really necessary. Did he expect Murdock to attempt something? Light, the man was already in trouble, no need to try attacking an armed man on top of that.

Now he was trying to make small talk, perhaps to break the silence that had fallen over them. Murdock hadn’t planned on making conversation with a man who was leading him to get into trouble that was none of his business initially, but he would do the polite thing and cater to his conversation if need be. “I am quite new, yes.” Not new to channelling thanks to the Black Tower, but as with his deed with the birds, Murdock was not inclined to offer more information than he really had to. “New enough that I don’t know what Ajah I will end up in. At the moment I am still trying to make it to the rank of Dedicated, something which I will not see for some time. There seems little sense in considering an Ajah until I am closer to being allowed to choose one, if I am not turned away from the Tower first.” Until his block was sorted, Murdock doubted he would be allowed to leave, and so far that block wasn’t close to being broken.

Murdock paused again, finding he was really not all that interested in making much conversation with Ravak at this point. But he had to go through the motions and get along with the people who could get him in trouble, just in case he needed them for something. He looked to his side and down a little, regarding the redhaired fellow. “I don’t have much experience of the Warder trainees, Ravak. Is this area of the gardens a part of your usual patrol?” The man looked forwards instead of to the side, lest his shrewd comment be too obvious in its delivery. Burn it all, he was going to be in enough trouble as it was, there wasn’t a great deal else that could go wrong at this point, at least until Ravak took out his weapon.

[Craig]

Ravak

"The Tower doesn't turn away those that are willing to learn, follow the rules, and walk in the Light." For a wonder, Rav had no idea why he'd added the last. He never said anything like that. It's that damned smell; what is it? Well, there was no point prodding and poking Murdock for information. The tall man was junior in rank, but he wasn't some young lout who was about to admit to any fault to spare himself punishment.

"Maybe it's easier for Drin and Ji, to think about the future." Rav spoke in a conversational tone. At least Murdock could talk civilly, if not openly. "When I first came to the Yards, I already had a goal set in mind. To train myself to fight Shadowspawn; to serve my people honourably; and not to die before I my given time. None of that has changed for me, even if the path towards those goals have."

Ravak had given plenty of thought towards the Ajahs, and towards potential bondmates. There was still, realistically, only one consideration that was worth thinking about. He should probably ask Katrie towards which Ajah she was leaning. That he hadn't done so was a wonder, although he did have better things to do with his mouth than talk...

The Shienaran cleared his throat. "No, I don't normally patrol the gardens." No-one patrolled the gardens. Realisation slowly dawned about what purpose laid behind Murdock's question. He would have to check back here in a few days' time, to ensure the Soldier wasn't continuing on with his personal training. "I like the vividness and variety of the plants. A far cry from the Borderlands, where I'm from." If the Soldier hadn't realised by now that his voice didn't match his looks, then now he had a clearer idea. "Growing flowers isn't much of a priority when you're fighting off Trollocs continually."

He brushed at his uniform, flakes of dead skin coming away from the grey. "So, are you actually going to let me take you to the Master of Soldiers? Even with that little speech back there, I'm still half-expecting you to come up with some excuse or reason that I shouldn't march you into his office."