In with the morning post. (Attn Craig... anybody else is welcome)

[Locke]

Terric of the Salt Flat Sept of the Nakai Aiel

Dawn in the Mountains of Mist was a chilly affair. A squad of soldiers marched through the street boots occasionally slipping on the dew slicked cobbles. In their midst, a wagon with a large cage in the back lumbered along. The passengers wore dirty rags and manacles. The worst kinds of rapists and murderers four of the prisoners huddled together near the door. Partially to ward off the cold, but mostly to place as much space as possible between themselves and the fifth man who slept with his knees pulled up against his chest.
The prisoners eyed their sleeping companion uneasily and muttered amongst themselves.
“I heard he killed twenty men,” one whispered.
“That’s crazy talk. Everybody knows they eat people. Probably just killed one or two men. They caught him ‘cause he was full.”
“Dark friends the lot of ‘em”
“Will you idiots shut up? He’ll wake up,” the fourth admonished with a hiss.
The men quieted as the wagon stopped at the gates of the Grey Tower. They gaped in awe at the majestic architecture that lay before them. All but the fifth man who continued to doze. After their little procession was let onto the grounds, they were met by a squad of soldiers with a pair of Aes Sedai at their head. Apart from them the grounds were mostly empty, most students not having duties this early.
The cage was unlocked and men climbed out shaking their stiff limbs. All but the fifth man. He continued to doze with his red blond head resting on his knees. A guard timidly reached the butt of his halberd between the bars to prod him awake. Before he even touched the sleeping man, a manacled hand shot out and grabbed the end of the weapon. The man was awake now. He fixed the guard with a steely grey glare.
“I was sleeping,”
“Well you have to wake up, savage” said the guard attempting to pull his weapon free.
The man’s grip didn’t budge.

The guard planted his feet and gave a mighty heave. He staggered backwards and fell to the cobbles his halberd clattering to the ground next to him. The prisoner had released the weapon and was attempting to sleep again. Spluttering with anger, the guard clambered to his feet and gestured to his companions, they clambered into the cage and together they dragged him out. It was probably overkill. The man did not continue to resist. He simply let out a grunt when they threw him to the ground. He was careful to tuck his chin and make sure his tongue wasn’t between his teeth when he hit. With a resigned sigh, he raised his manacled hands to protect his face as the guards began to kick him and strike him with the butts of their polearms.

[Craig]

Ravak

Ravak pinched the bridge of his nose in a near facsimile of his bondmate. There was something very wrong happening out in the world. He stood close to a pair of Aes Sedai, accompanied by some of the Tower Guard. The Shienaran cast a casual glance around the faces, some of which he recognised, some he did not. Five years at the Tower now, and I still haven't seen everyone. It's not like the Shienaran had an eidetic memory, but he should have at least had some familiarity with everyone. But then, the Tower Guards didn't much compare to a half-decently trained Drin. Nor a Shienaran soldier. He could have probably helped with that, but it wasn't his job to train the Tower Guard.

The wagon finally appeared, looking even worse than the one from Mayene, albeit larger. Traces of various crimes made their way over to Ravak's nose. He sniffed carefully, not wishing to draw any attention. Three people knew about his talent, this Sniffing as Kaia called it. The more people who knew about that, the less effective it would be. He scratched at his beard with his injured hand, as he tried to discern the different crimes.

Dispassionately, he watched as four figures were pulled from the wagon. They looked dirty and unkempt. Baerlon clearly did not think much of looking after their prisoners. Had it been a few years prior, Rav would have reacted to how the guards were dealing with the prisoners. Now, he understood that the end could outweigh the means. Justice didn't have to be served, so long as the appropriate punishment was meted out.

When the guards looked in the wagon and said the word savage, Rav's attention perked up. Aiel. He moved forward, beyond the circle of guards that enclosed the prisoners. The Light knew what the Aes Sedai wanted with them, or how any of this was Grey Tower business. But still, the Shienaran shifted forward as four guards pulled out a tall, red-haired figure. Without thinking, Rav sniffed the air again. It was oddly... calm. He had enough understanding of his ability to know where different scents were coming from, but this Aiel had no scent he could detect.

A calloused hand wrapped around two of the guards' shoulders, and he pulled them out of the way. The other guards paused mid-assault as the Master of Training broke into their circle. Steel-blue eyes bore into the guard directly opposite. "What is this man's crime," he growled, his voice like steel running over gravel.

"He, er-, he was caught killing birds," the guard that Rav had targeted stuttered. If anything, the Warder's gaze grew more intent.

"Birds?" He grunted, unimpressed. True or not, there was nothing on the Aiel. In fact, the guards had a stronger tang about them. Baerlon must be a pitiable place. "Away," he growled, and the guards made their exits quickly.

Ravak glanced down at the fellow on the floor. Whomever he was, aside from Aiel, he was no criminal. The Shienaran didn't understand enough about the Aiel to know if it was acceptable to offer him a hand, so he simply pulled his fancloak around himself, concealing the two swords by his waist. "I see you," Rav intoned formally. "I am Ravak Gaidin. What brings an Aielman so far out from the Wa- the Three-fold Land?"

[Locke]

Terric (Gonna leave off Clan and Sept for now)

Terric looked up to see a Shienaran warder standing above him. His strange cloak seaming to make pieces of him vanish. Shienarans were known as formidable warriors even among his people. And better yet this Wetlander at least new some proper customs. He ran his tongue across his teeth to make sure they were still all there. Ten years an Algai'd'siswai and he had yet to lose one. The pattern still seemed determined to try.
“I see you, Ravak Gaidin,” he said as he tried to stretch out a particularly painful bruise. “I was hunting a criminal. A Wetlander merchant stole from some of our holds. He was crafty and by the time anybody realized, he was long on his way.”
With a quick and powerful movement, Terric leapt to his feet using only his legs. The guards tensed some lowering weapons. He hid a wince and gave the guards a disdainful look.
“I would ask to go on my way but these yapping pups you Wetlanders call guards stole form me and I’d like my possessions back.” Terric looked into the Shienaran’s inscrutable face. Had he overstepped? Was he indeed still a prisoner?
His head was beginning to hurt again, whether it was from repeated blows over the last week or from lack of food he couldn’t tell. He was sure the side of his face the armored man stuck him on all those days ago had turned yellow. He hadn’t seen his reflection in weeks. His cheeks itched so he figured he needed a shave. He could get to that when the time came. Right now he needed to know. What did this Warder intend with him?

[Craig]

Ravak

Ravak glanced back towards what had been the assembled party of Aes Sedai, guards and prisoners. They were already making their way back towards the Grey Tower, dazzlingly bright in the day's light. Evidently the Master of Training has things in hand, he thought sourly. Collecting prisoners from wagons twice was two too many times, in his opinion.

The grey-blue glare of the Gaidin locked onto the Andoran guards, who were just about ready to set off. Momentarily, Rav thought to delay them, but he wasn't up for arguing with the men, and they wouldn't take this Aiel back without an escort of Gaidin in all likelihood.

"I think you will have to let your possessions go. Andoran justice, or what serves as justice, will be a foreign concept for you to understand, but they are likely lost to you." His voice was soft and compassionate. Time had shown the Shienaran that the Aiel were not savages, just different. They had a very different outlook on things, and Rav knew he didn't understand a hundredth of it. He scratched at his beard, considering the man. The Aiel stood a hand taller, and already had the body of a warrior. Not as well formed as his own, Rav reckoned, but those things weren't a competition.

"Come with me." The Master of Training turned, making his way back along the main road toward the Grey Tower. He didn't glance back to see if the Aiel had opted to follow - he had a choice of following the Gaidin, or watching a wagon roll away into the distance. If he wanted to test out how hard these 'softlands' were, he was free to. The man was no criminal.

Hearing footsteps behind him, Rav started speaking over his shoulder. "You are at the Grey Tower, in Hama Valon, if you were not already aware. I'm sure some of your people have heard of us, the unified bastion of Aes Sedai and Asha'man. I am the Master of Training here, in charge of those who wish to become Gaidin, and earn the fancloak." His calloused grip wrapped around the hilts of his two swords, still hidden by his cloak. "I'm really not sure what to do with you, but you may as well come with me for now. I can get you a warm meal and a bath, although I understand you may have an aversion to the latter." He shrugged. "For a wetlander, I know some things about the Aiel."

OOC: Feel free to ask questions of Rav.

[Locke]

Terric

More than a little disappointed at the loss of his possessions, Terric followed the warder. Instead of dwell on what was lost however, he figured it was best to start planning for the future. He would need spears. Another cadin’sor wouldn’t go a miss either. He had lived in his current cloths for at least a week. Pushing down a spike of anger over the books the Andorans had stolen from him, he decided to ask a question. “Ravak Gaidin, is it possible for me to have a cadin’sor made like your ‘fancloak’,” he seemed to have trouble with the unfamiliar word.
Terric lengthened his stride to catch up with the Warder. He had an eye for sizing up people, it probably came from ten years as a Red Shield. Either way, he was certain he didn’t want to tangle with this Shienaran. At least not without a full set of spears and a good night’s sleep. The man seemed extremely solid though. In the absence of Algai'd'siswai, this seemed to be a man he’d prefer to be around. The thieving peddler Lorek Gand was probably somewhere south at this moment and there was the immediate promise of a hot meal. Terric wasn’t going anywhere fast without at least a knife or a bow. So he figured, he might as well get used to this strange Wetlander city.

[Craig]

Ravak

Rav grinned a little mockingly at himself. I'm so used to being around the Grey Tower, I didn't even realise he wasn't wearing... a cadin'sor is it? Rav thought he knew what that was, although he hadn't seen one. It was the odd garb Aiel wore, made of... The facts eluded him at that instant.

He scratched at his beard. "I can probably find you a cadin'sor, but made of this?" Rav flicked his cloak slightly. "If you wish to earn a fancloak, you will have to earn a fancloak. This is the symbol of a fully trained Gaidin or Gaidar of the Grey Tower, gained only after years of proving themselves worthy of it. So no, I'm afraid not." Light, could you imagine an Aiel with fancloth clothing? A disconcerting thought.

As they came up to the base of the Grey Tower by the Green Ajah's quarters, Rav headed right, in the direction of the Warder Yards. "Do you have a name?" Maybe it wasn't custom or whatever to tell a wetlander their name, but it wouldn't do calling the man the Aiel. "I won't pretend to understand anything about sects or societies, aside from Far Dareis Mai." Sinead had been a Maiden of the Spear, before coming to the Tower. All female Aiel warriors were Far Dareis Mai, as far as Rav could make out.

The procession of Aes Sedai ahead had vanished, and Rav's mood soured somewhat. How did he been dragged into this? I'm not a Light-blasted gaoler. Grey-blue eyes considered the man beside him. "So, what would you do now, if you had the freedom to do so? Go find this criminal? Attempt to recover your possessions from Baerlon? Return to the Three-fold Land?"

[Locke]

Terric

The Aielman stopped and let out a deep laugh. “I’ve not heard such a good joke since I left the Three-Fold land. A Wetlander, no a man, who thinks he understands Far Dareis Mai.. Maidens do not even understand themselves.” He laughed harder and winced at his bruised ribs. Who new Shienarans had such sense of humor? He rushed to catch up.

"So, what would you do now, if you had the freedom to do so?” Ravak Gaidin continued, “Go find this criminal? Attempt to recover your possessions from Baerlon? Return to the Three-fold Land?"

Terric composed himself, Understanding Maidens. The thought came unbidden and he almost started laughing again. “Duty requires that I continue hunting my quarry. However my path was an arrow in the dark. This man was from Illian and most likely did not come this way. Now would be as good a time as any to meet my toh. If not for your intervention Ravak Gaidin, I’d still be chained to those murders and rapists.” The distaste in his voice was obvious. He was Aethan Dor, he had spent much of his adult life bringing those types to justice.
He fixed the Shienaran with a steely, grey stair, “Ravak Gaidin, I have toh.”

[Craig]

Ravak

The Master of Training groaned. Not out loud, where this tall yet-unnamed man would hear him, but in his mind. Toh. Ji'e'toh was as comprehensible a concept to the Shienaran as joining with the Shadow. Maybe not that bad, but Light, ask me to channel first before asking me about ji'e'flaming'toh. It was good that Sinead was not here to know his thoughts. She should be a shrewd teacher.

"I have-" he had been about to say "I have no interest in your toh" but the Creator alone knew how that would go down. "Peace, just come with me." Rav was more than a bit vexed. The easiest solution, albeit not the correct one, would be to clap the man in a Drin'far'ji's greys and leave him to it. Or try to pass the man onto someone else, but that wasn't a viable premise. "If you owe me toh, I would have your name. You have mine." That came out as a growl, steel on gravel.

As they reached the northern side of the Tower, Rav took the path due north towards the Warder Halls. It was a large four- or five-story structure, flanked by a long armoury hall, an aviary and a kennels. Those latter two were new buildings, after the damage and demolition of the Weaponry Hall. In the centre of all of the buildings were the Training Yards, where men and women, in the light shades of grey marking them as Drin'far'ji, trained under various Gaidin and Gaidar. Rav could see an unarmed combat course going on nearest to them, watched over by a handsome yet cocky looking Tairen. Further away a swordsmanship class was underway by an Asha'man, whilst a slight-looking woman showed students how to handle a longbow. It was a fine display of the Warder Yards' talents.

"Duty is a funny thing," Rav mused. Duty was in his blood, Shienaran as he was. "You can find that your sense of duty shifts, as you learn more about yourself, and more about the world. I thought my life would start and end near the Blight, as would every moment in between. Now I find myself fulfilling my duties in a different way, far from the Blightborder, yet still as strongly opposed to the Shadow." Rav twisted the golden ring on his shorn finger. "Why you hunt this Illianer, precisely? Because it is dishonourable to let a man thief from you, or because of what was stolen? Is it actually pride you are serving, instead of your... clan?"

[Locke]

Terric

"I have-" Ravak Gaidin cut off suddenly. "Peace, just come with me. If you owe me toh, I would have your name. You have mine."
Terric realized he hadn’t given the gravel voiced warder his name. Funny the things that slip the mind. The Warder, Ravak Gaidin, led him to the northern part of the tower where Warders and their students trained. Terric let himself look past their use of swords to their purpose. These men and women had dedicated themselves to becoming peerless warriors. They weren’t doing it for its own sake or to boast either. Each man or woman was here to meet some since of duty, of obligation. It was a goal worthy of an algai’d’siswai. In fact, he noted watching a few of the older Warder’s train, some were almost as good as algai’d’siswai.

"Duty is a funny thing," the Warder mused. "You can find that your sense of duty shifts, as you learn more about yourself, and more about the world. I thought my life would start and end near the Blight, as would every moment in between. Now I find myself fulfilling my duties in a different way, far from the Blightborder, yet still as strongly opposed to the Shadow. Why you hunt this Illianer, precisely? Because it is dishonourable to let a man thief from you, or because of what was stolen? Is it actually pride you are serving, instead of your... clan?"

“I hunt him because I am Aethan Dor.” Terric replied firmly.

His step waivered and he looked around the training grounds again. His years chasing thieves had taught him something. Look for what was not being said. Why was Ravak Gaidin showing him this? They could have taken a direct route into the Tower, but instead he had led them around towards the Warder yards.

He had his suspicions, now he just had to feel them out. “I am but one of many hunters. My spear brothers in the south might have caught him by now,” he let some uncertainty creep into his voice. He was surprised to find that the uncertainty was real. Terric looked around again. This called to him. To dedicate his spear to something more than endless raids and counter raids.
Maybe he was getting a head of himself. Like a thief’s confession, he wanted to hear it from the man’s own lips. Sometimes bluntness was the best option. So he asked:
“Ravak Gaidin, do you want me, Terric of the Salt Flats Sept of the Nakai Aiel, to become a Warder?”

[Craig]

Ravak

Rav slowed perceivably as the weighted words tumbled out of Terric's mouth. They were coming up beside the kennels, almost at the Warder Hall. Eventually Rav stopped, turning to face the Aiel.

"No." The Warder's steel blue eyes weren't hard, as they normally were. Instead, they were considering. "I do not ask men nor women whether they wish to become Gaidin or Gaidar. Unlike my brothers and sisters in the Tower, we do not make people come to us. Each man and woman of the Warder Yards chose to come here of their own volition, even if the reasons behind that decision are as numerous as motes of sand in the Waste. So no, Terric, I do not want you to become a Warder. The question you should be asking is, do you want to become a Warder?"

Rav leaned with seeming casualness against the wall of the kennels, arms folded across his chest, the fancloak still wreathing most of his form. This seemed like a fortuitous development, but everything the Shienaran had said was true. He had little interest in anyone who didn't make their own choice about joining the Grey Tower, but that was never truly an issue. The issue was with ensuring these recruits were good enough to be Gaidin. Southerners were the biggest problem, with some of them still believing that Trollocs were mere stories. As a Borderlander, there was no question about the existence of Shadowspawn, although seeing them in the flesh had still been a galling experience. Each of these grey-clad trainees had to be able to kill Shadowspawn, and each of them had to be willing to do that. If it ever came to pass that the Grey Tower had to defend itself, he would expect every single person to stand their ground off of their own sense of duty.

The Master of Training watched Terric closely. The Aiel were different, far more so than any Mayener or Taraboner could be. He could have taken any of Rav's speech as something else entirely. Plus, if he had offended some part of ji'e'toh, he may have an unfortunate fight on his hands.