Avram's Enlistment Interview

[Craig]

Mordjen

One of the guards on duty jabbed the other one roughly and viciously in the ribs. "Oi, you know fine well that Master Darrow'll skin ye alive, if ye let one of his pups stray, Heb. Well, not literally one of his pups. Bah."

Heb grunted in nothing that approached agreement, then growled at the other guard. That one threw up his hands in exasperation with a loud sigh. "Fine," he muttered, turning to the new arrival. "I'm Mordjen. Pleased t' meet you. I'll take you to where you need to be. If you will follow me, please?"

Mordjen stepped out in front, taking comfortable but ground-eating strides. As he walked, he chattered amiably with the newcomer. The entrance road was somewhat long, and Mordjen only went halfway down before veering off to the right. He cut across a field towards a large four- or five-story building, what looked like a dormitory, that faced the tall glass Grey Tower itself.

"I never tried to be a Warder myself," Mordjen continued. "My wife Liz, bless 'er. Well, she would probably cry herself to sleep every single night if I told her I wanted to try to get meself bonded to some fancy lady Aes Sedai." The guard chuckled at that, then cleared his throat after stealing a glance at the man striding alongside him. "No no, I watch the front gate, and help carry firewood when there are special occasions. That is more than enough connection t' the One Power for me, yessir. But if I could learn some of the way of the Warders, like how they fight with their bare hands, I would very much enjoy learning about that. I think it would make me better at being a guard." Mordjen seemed to be lost in his own thoughts for a moment, his pace slowing briefly.

"Anyways," Mordjen perked up, "Master Darrow said he would be seeing t' inviting me and some of the boys to a class with his trainees. So I am sure that will come about when the time is right. Master Darrow always seems to be busy, but I think he's a goodly soul." They were walking into a hard packed dirt yard, between three buildings spaced far apart. To their immediate right was a barn-sized building all on a single story, with a few people around it. The men and women practicing various forms of fighting styles were spread from there all the way across the Yard, to what had probably been a matching building at one time. Immediately ahead was the large dormitory hall, and it was towards that and a large set of doors that Mordjen led them. "Master Darrow is a good man, but a hard man too. Don't be letting on what happened with Heb back there, if you please. He's a trial for most, but this Tower is probably the only thing keeping him from finding an arrow wi' his name on it. He didn't mean no harm; I'll keep on at him. The Master of Training's office is upstairs." Mordjen pointed at the set of stairs that ran central through the large lobby. The foyer had a tiled floor and wood panelled walls, with several tables, chairs and benches set out, occupied by groups of trainees in the various greys of the Warder Yards.

Mordjen turned and clasped his hands behind his back, bouncing up once on his toes. "He usually has open hours in his office from a couple of hours before High, until a few hours before Low, if he's no out running an errand. If he doesn't happen t' be there right then, there is usually a book with a pen. You can scribble a request for a meeting, and then come back. Right now, it is about four hours after Early, so he is probably already there." The guard grinned broadly, and nodded. "It is good to welcome you to the Tower. Good luck!" Patting the newcomer jovially on the shoulder, Mordjen retreated back the way they had come.

Ravak

The Master of Training, Ravak Gaidin, lounged in his leather-backed armchair, a book propped up on his lap. The afternoon was balmy, but the window was shut against the cool breeze. What made the office worse was the crackling blaze that roared opened in the large fireplace, set behind the Shienaran's chair and desk. He normally preferred the cold, but he was preparing himself for an excursion into the Wastes. "The Three-fold Land," he muttered in correction to himself. Despite the uncomfortable heat, not a bead of sweat sat on the Warder's face. He had been taught that trick from his bondmate during their first excursion into the Blight. Along the bond, he could feel Kaia's not-so-mild frustration. Ravak seldom asked what went on at the top of the Grey Tower, where Kaia's new office was situated, but he knew how much she disliked parts of the role. Both she and Jaryd - her other Warder and fellow Keeper - voiced their displeasure in private. "And sometimes not so private." When had he got into the habit of speaking to himself? Brows furrowed, and the Gaidin turned his attention back to the door in his hands.

The room's furnishings had changed significantly since his predecessor's departure. It wasn't an intentional slight against Ferran nor Ubriel, although for the latter, the warmth and comfort she had brought to her role as Mistress of Training wasn't the way he was accustomed to. Aside from his chair before the fireplace, there was also a desk covered in neat piles of paper, most notably adorned by an iridescent quill and inkwell. That was a ter'angreal, an absolute rarity for even a Gaidin to possess. Like the chair and most of the room's other pieces of woodwork, the desk was Shienaran in style, if not in manufacture. Hard edges and clean lines were everywhere, all built from solid oak. It had solid sides as opposed to spindly legs, so his sword-breaker was completely hidden from view between the desk and the fireplace. A weapon rack in one corner held most of his other weapons. The Tower-forged longsword was placed so that the Great Serpent on its crossguard was visible. Beside it rested a long quarterstaff made of silvery wood. Beyond a second table covered in more sheets of paper weighed down by various throwing dagger, a small stand for a teapot and cups, and a Taraboner rug, there were no further furnishings in the room. Notably, there was nowhere for anyone to sit, aside from his own chair. Ravak's original demeanour in his role as Master of Training was to act as austere as possible, without being rude. Since then, he had received input that made him reconsider his approach. The Light knew, with some of the Tower's latest recruits, his present stratagem had not been working as intended.

Ravak undid another button on his shirt, so that it was only half done-up. The heat may not cause him to sweat, but he still felt it like everyone else. He pulled at his collar, revealing well defined muscles underneath. He had joined the Yards as a slip of a boy. Now he drew the eyes of quite a considerable number of onlookers when he strolled around in his new attire. If he had been unbonded, well, it was unlikely that would have been the case for long. He grinned a little at that, although Kaia was too lost in whatever her duties were to respond with any curiosity. That was a large portion of their wordless communication - humour and frustration and curiosity.

Ravak heard the floorboards outside of his room creak. Not everyone would pick up on that, but this was his office now, and he was used to its quirks. He placed the book in a desk drawer, page marked by a letter opener. His right hand moved to the hilt of his sword-breaker as he waiting to see who was approaching.

OOC: Post Avram's perspective of the guard showing him to the Warder Hall, continuing into the Master of Training's office and his approach to the open door.

[Jiggity]

Avram Avram stood stoically, inwardly surprised at the lack of discipline, as he waited for the gate guards to finish their... decision making process. He caught his brow starting to furrow and managed to smooth his face just in time. No sense letting them know more than they needed to. He nodded to the guard -Heb, he thought, filing it away for later- and followed Mordjen. "Avram." he replied to the introduction.

The walk went quickly for Avram, if only due to nerves. He forced himself to respond amicably, if briefly, to Mordjen's comments, but his heart was pounding. He dimly heard the man comment about learning to fight, and dimly heard himself respond with an offer to assist if the guard needed it. Master Darrow... that must be the master he was going to meet. He stared at the large hall he was approaching, steeling himself to face his last chance.

"Thank you Mordjen. Heb's name won't pass my lips. May the Light shine on you." He accepted the pat on the shoulder and stood for a second, gathering himself. Composure was important for this. Possibly the most important. Avram did not have enough of a past to earn his place that way, so a bad first impression would likely strike him out completely. He was sure of it. If there was one thing he had learned from his life so far, it was how to fail Daes Dae'mar. The thought that perhaps he was being a bit harsh on himself never entered his head. A few slow, deep breaths later, he resettled the daggers that were hidden as best he could - not as well as a Gaidin could have done, but well enough - and started up the stairs in front of him, concentrating on keeping all trace of unease from his posture, face and breath.

The creak at the landing betrayed Avram's plan to take a moment to compose himself at the door and forced him to continue. No hesitation. Hesitation was weakness was failure. He found the door Mordjen had indicated, left wide open. He walked just through the door, blinking but managing not to react overmuch to the wave of heat that faced him as he stepped into the room. Which was rather strange, as his flickering eyes noted the closed window and blazing fire heating the room to extreme temperatures. This was noted and dismissed when he noticed the man sitting in the middle of the room.

This must be Master Darrow. Or if it was someone else they were very at home in the Warder's leader's office. He was solidly built, with his shirt mostly open in concession to the bizarre heat of the room. Experience had Avram's eyes check for weapons. While he saw none, the hand hidden behind the desk looked just about right to be holding something. Not exactly a strange reaction from a Warder. Avram also noted a significant level of conventional attractiveness, filing it away for possible use. Seeing no chair he stepped into the room, mostly succeeding at seeming confident and stopped in front of the desk. He hoped desperately that the bigger man couldn't see him trembling slightly. He had been thinking about this moment for far, far too long. His last chance to make something of himself. His only way to recoup the failures of his life. His world narrowed to the man in front of him, and he heard his mouth say the words that he had agonized over for almost the entirety of the long journey from Cairhien to the Mountains of Mist. "Master Darrow. My name is Avram Nolaisen. I wish to join your ranks."

[Craig]

OOC: Just as a note, Rav's sword-breaker is hidden behind the desk, so no-one can see it bar himself.

Ravak

Hard blue-grey eyes studied the newcomer. He didn't need to hear that this recruit was here to join the Yards - no-one outside of the Tower came to see him for any other reason - but it nice to see a bit of confidence in a new recruit. Avram was quite short for one in the Yards, although he may have a hair or so on the Lady Trakand. Probably a inch or so on that boisterous novice. But anyone thinking that a lack of height was a disadvantage could soon be taught a lesson.

The Master of Training scratched at his beard with his left hand. "Avram Nolaisen. Cairhienin, mm?" Ravak didn't exactly have a problem with Cairhienin, but he had yet to meet one that he'd truly taken to. Not that this would affect his judgement. It was simply just his duty as the Master of Training to separate the able and the willing from the chaff. The Borderlands had stood for so long because hard men and hard women guarded its lands. The Gaidar and Gaidin of the Warder Yards had to be twice that and more. They served Aes Sedai and Asha'man, people who could truly shape the world in a way no single soldier could.

"Come." Rav beckoned Avram closer, so he was standing in the middle of the rug, before his desk. "So you already know my name? However, I'd like to make a proper introduction. My name is Ravak Gaidin, the Grey Tower's Master of Training. You may refer to me as Ravak Gaidin or as Master Darrow, your pick." The Shienaran opened one of the drawers on his desk, and retrieved a large ledger with a blue dustcover. Opening it to an almost completed page, Rav took a hold of his quill, dipped it in its matching inkwell, and poised ready to write.

Rav settled back in his chair, hard grey-blue eyes set intently on Avram's face. "I have some questions for you, and I don't expect one word answers. What brings you to the Grey Tower for training? Cairhein lies a lot closer to the White Tower, and it would have saved you a journey of several hundred miles. Do you have any training with weapons, aside from those throwing knives you've got there?" Rav pointed at a few spots on the Cairheinin's form with his right hand, indicating with a dagger of his own that seemed to appear out of nowhere. He flashed a grin at the boy's discomfort. "And do you plan on becoming a Warder, with all of that entails? Bonded to a channeller until the end of your days, or the end of theirs."

OOC: Please make sure that you answer the questions posed above. Principally, make sure to state Avram's reasons for coming to the Grey Tower, and whether and why he intends to be an unbounded Gaidin or a Warder. If you have any questions for Ravak, feel free to ask in your response.

[Jiggity]

Avram Avram managed to hold his composure in the face of the brief but intense inspection. Part of him knew that they couldn't start judging someone that much before they had even gotten out into the yard. The rest of him was terrified that he was going to twitch an eyebrow wrong and indicate weakness and he would need to find yet another option. He didn't respond to the rhetorical question, figuring he had less of a chance of saying something stupid if he didn't say anything at all.

As he stepped forward to stand where Ravak - Ravak Gaidin, he chastised himself internally - he stumbled slightly. A litany of curses ran through his panicked head and he noticed his hands were trembling. He clasped them tightly behind them, hoping that even if they were still trembling they were at least not visible. In his rush he barely caught the first question, focusing fully just in time to see the throwing knife appear in a blur. He guessed it might have come from a sleeve? Either way, he was instantly jealous of the motion that had brought it into existence seemingly out of nowhere. He took a moment to collect himself before responding to the questions.

"My past is... somewhat questionable. I have neither references nor excessive experience. I have what it takes to become a Warder, but I thought the white tower would be more... uptight about their candidates. I believed the Grey Tower would be more likely to judge me solely on my merits." Behind him, his fist clenched hard, thinking about the humiliation of admitting that he did not believe the White Tower would think him worthy. "And I do believe I would qualify by my merits."

"I want to do something with my life. All attempts to do so thus far have failed. I was born and raised to play the game of houses. I was not successful in my endeavors. I served as a personal guard to a number of minor nobles. My knowledge and observational skills could be useful to one better at the Game than myself. My base in guarding individuals would help me serve as a Warden. I believe this is the best option available to me to accomplish my goal."

With a minor flourish, a dagger appeared in Avram's hand, no longer shaking with a weapon in it. He flipped it end over end before disappearing it back up the back of his shirt. The motion wasn't nearly as polished or rapid as the demonstration, but it also demonstrated some competence. "I've worked with throwing knives and daggers, though I would not call myself an expert. I would say I am competent with them. My skills have been all that kept clients of mine alive at times." Those had all been close run encounters against less than excellent opponents, but he didn't need to tell the Gaidin that. The desperate fights to keep someone else alive had certainly been educational.

"I plan to become a Warder and serve an Aes Sedai in the safeguarding and improvement of the world until the end of my days." He said simply, not feeling the need to add details. He had had plenty of time to think on this during the long, long journey from Cairhien.

[Craig]

Ravak

The White Tower is more uptight, eh? Ravak had long learnt to school his face into a hard, rocky visage, but that made him want to smile. The lad had some experience, more than others that had come through that door. The flourish with the dagger was more showy than the Gaidin could have done, but there wasn't a need to admit that.

"It's a bold statement, saying that one wishes to become a Warder." Rav's grey-blue softened a little as he looked over Avram. "But at least your heart and motivations are coming from the right place. I can't say I have much of a care for Daes Dae'mar, and the petty squabbling of nobles shan't touch you here whilst you are under my protection."

The red-haired Gaidin turned the blue ledger towards the other man, opening it on the page marked by a crimson ribbon. "If you wish to join the men and women of the Warder Yards, you need only make your mark here." Rav pointed at a spot on the page with his right hand, whilst he dipped his iridescent quill into its matching inkwell with the other. He offered the quill to Avram, and took it back as soon as the man had signed his name.

Rav placed the quill ter'angreal back on the table. "Avram Nolaisen." His voice was ceremonial in tone. "You have just taken the first step on the path towards the fancloak. A small step. You'll have a few days to pick things up, but the training process will see you getting the proper training in whatever weapons you choose." The Gaidin's voice turned hard. "I shall warn you now, you will be hurt. You will be broken. Even practice weapons can leave their mark, and their sting will be unkind. If you haven't experienced the touch of Healing before, you soon will." If the Cairheinin balked at any of that, let him. Rav spoke the simple truth - he had lived for months with his body a colourful tapestry of blues and browns and yellow bruises. "You shall also undertake daily lessons in the strategy and tactics of warfare, and you will acquire skills that will help you to survive in the wilds and become self-sufficient, not just for yourself, but for those under your care and protection. You will also be sharing in the chores that keep this place running." He added it like a casual afterthought, although it was the least pleasant truth about being part of the Tower. The Gaidin had duties rather than chores now, and whilst they were as hard and exhausting, at least he wasn't cleaning chamberpots or scrubbing floors like Avram soon would be.

The brawny Shienaran rose from his chair smoothly, deftly retrieving his sword-breaker from behind his desk, and his longsword from the weapon rack. The two weapons couldn't have been more different in design, the longsword ornate, the other simple, but he slid them into matching scabbards. "Come," he gestured towards Avram, then towards the door. The fancloak on his back shimmered brown, attempting to merge the Warder in with the walls. They moved back through the Warder Hall. "You have now started your training here at the Warder Yards with the rank of Drin'far'ji. As the Master of Training, you report to me as your superior. Your lessons and other training will be directed by teachers. Some of these will be Gaidin, others Ji'alantin and Ji'dar. Regardless of your rank and theirs, if they are the teacher, you obey."

Ravak led the way back down the stairs into the great foyer. The ancient symbol of the Aes Sedai - the black of the Dragon's Fang conjoined with the so-called Flame of Tar Valon - was inlaid in the marble flooring, a striking impression on any that entered these halls. Leaving through a set of double doors, he continued the introductions without looking to see how far, or if, Avram was lagging behind. "You mentioned that the White Tower is more... uptight. A part of that is their old-fashioned way of looking down at Gaidin like we are servants, born to serve the whims of any Aes Sedai who come along knocking. Here at the Grey Tower, Gaidar and Gaidin are equals with the Aes Sedai and Asha'man, not beholden to them. Likewise, you stand equal to a novice or soldier." A slow grin crossed his face. "That said, Drin do have a liberty or two more. As you are pushed to your physical limits, you have free access to the Mess Hall. Novices and soldiers have prescribed meal times, but whenever you need food for energy, you can go to the Mess. I wouldn't have you falling over from exhaustion."

Now out in the cooler day's air, the sonorous percussion of wood striking wood and barked instructions filled the air. Trainees and teachers were sparring, practicing, and exercising in small groups, whilst others laboured alone out in the expansive yards. "You have a slight start, knowing how to use your weapons that you carry. I would suggest thinking about what weapon or weapons you wish to gain mastery in. I have my swords, but you can see plenty of other weapons out there. Hammers, axe, pole arms, bows, throwing daggers of course." He grinned again, his hard face becoming genuinely warm. "But you will also need to learn how to use your own body as a weapon. If you end up disarmed or caught without a weapon, you still have to be able to defend yourself and your Aes Sedai. You will find postings for various classes later, but he sure to look up Unarmed Combat as one of them. We actually have a... Blademaster for that course." Rav shrugged at the unasked question. "I don't know how you become a Blademaster of fists, but Dakson Gaidin has done so."

Ravak stood and watched the scenes of training before him. He had a lot of pride invested in the regime that saw all of these men and women practicing before him.

OOC: Please describe Avram's impressions of the Yard and the trainees/trainers as they walk about. Raise anything that catches his attention, or that you have a question about. Make use of the Warder Yards Art Gallery in aiding your descriptions.

[Jiggity]

Avram

Avram precisely signed his name where indicated by the man that was now his training master. He stared at it for a second, his name stark on the page before handing the quill back. It was done. He stood, somewhat calmer now as Ravak detailed life in the Tower. He had accepted the hard work that he was certain would accompany the training he was going into. It would probably be worse than he anticipated, but that was life. The chores... the thought was firmly stepped on. They were a necessary evil.

He noted the two weapons the training master wore, unfamiliar with the sword-breaker and resolving to learn what it was later. He also mentally repeated the new, unfamiliar words. Drin'far'ji. Ji'alantin. Ji'dar. Firm discipline, no surprise there. His mind less crushed in the grip of his worry and paying more attention to his surroundings he marveled at the art and especially at the massive symbol of the Aes Sedai set into the floor. It was difficult to pay sufficient attention to get a good idea of his surroundings while still keeping up with the larger man and attending properly to his words. The building would stay, he decided. turning his attention more thoroughly to the other man's words.

If drin'far'ji were allowed the same respect as the channelers, it followed that they were worked at least as hard. That was... not exactly comforting, but again it came with the territory. The yards were something else though. I see why we have access to the mess whenever we need it.

Avram looked around as they stopped. He was amazed by the sheer number of practicing people in the yards, with every conceivable weapon. Classes under the supervision of what he supposed to be Ji, though he would need to find out more later. Individual spars, some with groups of people standing around them watching, from the youngest members flailing at each other to masters of their weapons dancing with a smoothness that belied the incredible violence inherent in the movements.

"Do the students get to decide which weapons they train with or are we told?" Swords were so... obvious. "Is it always this active? Do full warders often spar here?" The questions tumbled out of him, now that Ravak- no, Ravak Gaidin. A single smile does not merit familiarity. "Are there hours when the yards are closed? Is there any way to request a class on topics not offered?"

[Craig]

Ravak

Plenty of questions. Rav didn't mind; he had done these speeches so often, it felt like a script. Having to think on the spot was good.

"You may choose any weapon to learn, or any assortment of weapons. Some people like the variety, and some prefer to focus on a single weapon. Whatever you choose, you will also need to learn how to use your body as a weapon. That is why I mentioned the Unarmed class previously."

Ravak surveyed the bustling Yards. "This happens to be an hour for training in the Yards, but no, it's not always so busy. As a student of the Warder Yards, you will have a set schedule to keep to daily, aside from the occasional feast day and free day. And yes, Gaidin and Gaidar train here as well."

"The Yards are always open, although you'll have some difficulties working in the darkness of night. It's not like we can close an open area, at any rate." Rav faced the new Drin. "Don't think about wearing yourself out too quickly. You can't rush yourself to the rank of Gaidin, or even Ji'alantin. It will be up to me to decide when you are ready for those tests."

"As for classes, there are postings up inside the foyer of the Warder Hall. I'd be surprised if you can't find someone that can teach you any weapon or fighting style you can imagine. But if you're thinking of more scholarly pursuits, I'm sure I can find a suitable teacher for you in the Tower. Is there anything in particular you were thinking about?"

OOC: Feel free to respond here, and if need be, Rav can respond in kind.

Ravak beckoned for Avram to follow, as the red-haired Shienaran set off for towards the intact large barn-sized building that flanked the practice yard. "You will have a few days to settle into the routine, and in that time, you'll have a better idea of how things work around here." The Master of Training said nothing else as they crossed the space towards the first building, instead taking the time to watch how his students were preparing themselves.

Ravak pushed the door open, moving into the large vaulted hall. "The Armoury." Along half the length of the building were racks upon racks of weapons, forged from everywhere between the Aryth Ocean to beyond the Spine of the World. Swords, axes, short bows, longbows, polearms - all of those and other weapons Ravak didn’t know how to use or pronounce could be found here. A couple of Drin were amongst the weapons, polishing them as the Gaidin had personally instructed. He kept a much closer eye on whom he assigned here after the incident.

"In here, you will find every weapon imaginable, and likely a few that you haven't imagined. Have a look around, I'm sure you'll find something of interest. Even if you don't take to something, it’s always good to know about what you may face off against. Not everyone in the world uses a sword. Farmers will hit you with shovels; Aiel will pierce you with spears and arrows; and Trollocs...” Ravak fixed the Drin with a stony gaze. "Sufficed to say, you want to be prepared for anything."

OOC: You can find the descriptions of various weapons here, as well as the different categories you can gain Weapon Skill points in. Describe Avram's exploration of this half of the Armoury and its contents, and again, feel free to ask any questions of Ravak.

[Jiggity]

Avram

An internal sigh of relief at the answers to the questions instead of dismissal resonated through Avram's head as he noted the answers. It was good not to be forced into a particular weapon or fighting style. He was also glad there would be times he could work on things himself without being surrounded by this calamity. And... it could be a decent refuge. Finding a hideyhole for emergencies was second nature at this point. He pushed that back. Time enough for that later.

Unarmed combat seemed like an incredibly useful skill so he was certainly not going to argue that point. And he certainly wasn't going to wear himself out. But individual practice with everyone standing around him would be... unpleasant. He shuddered internally, suppressing the external reaction with practice. Better to do it when as few people as possible were around.

"I didn't have anything specific in mind Ravak Gaidin. I just... tend to have varied interests and wanted to know if there was something I wanted to learn about if there was a way." Frankly, he wanted to know everything. The grey tower, not as old as the white tower, would certainly have less knowledge to offer. But he still wanted all that he could get, and there was no way he would run out. It would be difficult to balance the two but... knowledge was power. And he had spent enough time with no power.

His wandering thoughts had led him the rest of the way to the armoury, where he stopped short, his eyes taking it all in. With permission granted he walked slowly back along the rows of polished weaponry. He considered the polearms for a second before shaking his head and dismissing the thought. Most of them were taller than he was and so very... overt. Subtlety. Everything worked better when people didn't know he was involved. Then he got to the daggers. He couldn't even describe all of them. Some, the point was obvious. Thin blades to go into a man's heart with barely a mark. Thick, heavy looking defensive daggers to turn a sword. Curved and straight, long and short. Some even had holes, for fingers Avram guessed. And right next to them were an array of gloves that seemed oddly stiff - metal in them, perhaps? This gave him a whole new thing to play with. "I assure you, Ravak Gaidin, unprepared is the last thing I want to be."

[Craig]

Ravak

Rav made a noncommittal sound, then nodded for the Drin'far'ji to follow him towards the back of the Armoury. Halfway along the length of the building, and the weapons gave way to different racks and stands. The near end held the heaviest armour, with plate leading into leather, then onto smaller pieces and shields and other protective equipment. Rav knew that some of those odder items were from the Aiel Waste - the Three-fold Land, he silently berated himself. He'd be getting more familiar with those shortly.

"You probably noted the ruins opposite. We once had a Weaponry Hall and an Armoury. Now we just have this building. That's why everything is all cramped back here." Rav's expression was less than amused. "Have a look around, Avram. Whilst you're here in the yards, you will seldom have need for armour. However, if you do have a need and you can't find anything suitable here, there are the forges. The same goes for weapons." Rav tapped the pommel of his longsword; that was Tower-forged steel.

OOC: If you need armour descriptions, you can find them here. If you want to write about visiting the forges, you can do. They are ambiguously stated as being "past the Armoury" or "out at the forges", as it doesn't appear on the map of the Tower grounds.

[Jiggity]

Avram

Avram nodded, though he suspected there would be little cause to visit the forges. He gave a cursory look at the armor, interested in the variety but for the most part if he needed anything more sturdy than leather he was in the wrong place. He walked through, glancing over most of it but was back in front of the Master of Training very shortly. "If you don't mind my asking, you said there used to be another building? What happened to it?" Something that managed to that thoroughly destroy an entire building on the grounds of the tower itself was... worrying. This place was supposed to be safe.

"As far as weapons, can these be borrowed for practice purposes? I have my knives but they are... passable at best. I didn't have a great deal of funds when I was acquiring them." He grimaced slightly at the thought. Frankly the only reason he had them was a distracted merchant on his way out of the city. Properly balanced daggers would be a dream come true, for practice if nothing else. Either way, the sheer diversity of weapons and armor on display here whet Avram's appetite for knowledge something fierce.