The Grey Tower

For a wonder, Ravak Darrow had a warm countenance on his face. He lounged on a bench in the Tower's Gardens, working his way through an apple he had grabbed from the mess hall. The black scarf that had become an ever-present part of his apparel, was pulled down around his neck, instead of covering his nose and mouth. Here he could breathe deeply, without having to worry about what foul stench he would catch. That was predominantly an issue in and around the Warders' Hall, plus whatever stuck to his own clothing. If he didn't get a handle over this soon, he would have to live in the Library permanently.

For now, the Gardens sufficed. They had a sweeter smell than the Library, with the flowers in bloom, birds chirping in nearby trees making a melody amongst the gentle rustling of leaves. The sun was attempting to peek through foliage, alternating every few minutes so that Rav would be blinded from the light, or grateful for the shade.

He realised that he was holding one end of his scarf in his left hand, feeling its softness through calloused fingertips. It was bobbled from frequent use, and the smell it once held had gone, but he was still very fond of it all the same. A labour of love, it had been. Handmade just for him. Thinking about it brought back happy and not so happy memories, but he focused on those that made him smile. He was smiling a lot more since coming to the Tower. Maybe on the inside he was still a bit gruff, but he wasn't glaring at people quite as often. It still happened, and it still had its uses. No doubt a steely-eyed glare would be a handy thing to have, once he earned the fancloak.

Leaning back, so his face was pointed at the sky, he ran his other hand through his shaggy red hair, catching dandruff. White flakes fell on his shoulders like a light dusting of snow, and gathered underneath the golden band on his shorn ring finger. An image of the man who had caused that injury flashed in his mind, but he pushed it aside. Happy memories for now, Rav.

Looking back down, Ravak noticed that another person had come into view amongst the trees and the flowers. Standing about a hand shorter than the Shienaran, the dark-haired woman - no, girl - moved with an athletic gait, although one that seemed to be somewhat impaired by her skirt. Probably a newer Novice, although he didn't have much of a basis to make that assumption. She had the look of a Borderlander, Saldaea if he wasn't mistaken, but there was also something else about her that looked familiar. He opted not to stare whilst trying to figure it out, and glanced back around at the flora as she walked closer along the path.

When she was near enough to talk to, he gave her a respectful nod, and saluted with his right hand on his chest. She had green eyes. Subconsciously he rubbed the scarf. Rav offered a smile as he spoke. "Afternoon, Novice." He didn't wish to impose on the Novice if she was busy, but at the same time he was open to the possibility of company. "A lovely day so far, no?" He was never too good at starting conversations.

Life as a Novice kept Tia busy, and meant she did not have nearly as much time to explore the Tower grounds as she did prior to donning the blasted Novice White Dress. Two hours after high, though, she had precious time to herself, and this day, opted to enjoy the serenity of the Gardens. Truth be told, she was looking for a likely tree to climb, but she only had an hour before she was due for her next class. Unfortunately, she was running out of time, and might have to forgo her tree-climbing adventure.

The Gardens were a popular place for learning ranks to take a break, thus she was not surprised to see the Drin'far'ji sitting on one of the benches along the path she'd been following. She was surprised when he spoke to her, though, and she paused mid-step. She felt a pang of envy to see him in the grey of the Drin uniform, with most of the envy she felt due to the blasted dress she currently wore. She shuffled the feeling aside. . .yes she was young, but she wasn't a child anymore. Offering the man a warm smile as she turned and faced him, Tia replied, "Yes it is, Drin'far'ji, though I have not had much opportunity to enjoy our pleasant weather until this break."

Ravak thought he caught an odd look from the Novice when she noticed his uniform. It was there and gone so fast, he wondered if he'd imagined it. What ever could that have been? Well, clearly she recognised the uniform, greeting him as Drin'far'ji. "Awfully formal that, Drin'far'ji. My name is Ravak." It was possible she was a stickler for the rules; he thought they had a certain amount of give.

"I can appreciate some of the rigours of the Tower's training, although not what it is a Novice goes through specifically." He smiled sympathetically. "I'm imagining a lot of boring classes and pushy Accepted give you a hard time."

Tia blushed slightly when the man called her out on her formality, though she smirked at about the same time, and then laughed softly as he mentioned pushy Accepted. "I sometimes have a tendency to be more formal than a situation might call for, though respecting others and their positions is something that has been ingrained into me for most, if not all of my life," she replied, though gave no further explanation. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Ravak. I am Tia Tomosan," she added with a tilt of her head.

"Training as a Novice has its high points, though it is not nearly as interesting as training in the Yards, I'm sure. Pushy Accepted are likely not much different than pushy Ji', if I had to guess...though the chores an Accepted might assign would be less enjoyable than that from a Ji, if I had to guess," she explained, letting her smirk grow a bit wider. "I will admit, I am a bit surprised to see a Drin take his break in the Gardens...I'd likely be over in the stables during my breaks if I were part of the Yards," Tia explained. "Mind, growing up around horses means I prefer their company to that of our two-legged peers," the smirk grew into a grin.

"I wouldn't say I was disrespectful," Rav said in a careful tone. "I prefer to see people, not titles and ranks." He would never imply that around an Aes Sedai or an Asha'man, but he was in safe company here.

It was good to see another face that wasn't all serious. Far too many of them in the Warders' Yards, and plenty still in the Tower. He grinned back. "I can't say I enjoy the smell of the Stables that much. Maybe if I had been raised on a farm, instead of in a city, I'd be more used to it." He added quickly, "Not that I'm implying that you were raised on a farm. It's just a... ah." Always speaking before thinking. He had to guard his tongue more closely.

"As for the Gardens, well I don't know how well you know Fal Dara, but not many flowers grow in the north, and there's not a tree in sight." He peered around the gardens with a smile. "I'd never seen anything like this in Shienar. Admittedly, you're more likely to find me in the Tower Library than here, but it's a beautiful day, and it'd be remiss of me to be curled up with a book instead of out here in the sun."

The sunlight had edged out of the shade of the trees, so he held his right hand over his eyes to see clearly. Backlit, Tia's silhouette once again tugged at a sense of recognition. He averted his gaze once more, careful not to glare too fiercely. "You sound like you have a bit of an interest in the Warders' Yards. If you wish to learn about weapons, I see Novices and Soldiers in the yard from time to time. I'm sure someone would be more than happy to help you train." For some foolish reason, he wished he had one of his weapons on him, as if that would make the offer more real. Not that he was a teacher, but any stretch. "Or you could just rely on a trusty Warder."

The red-haired Shienaran nodded thoughtfully as she spoke of her parents. Rav couldn't imagine that, growing up with a channeller in the family. I must make family life a bit awkward, being divided amongst the duties of a family, and the duties of the Grey Tower. Or the Black. He had to stop making assumptions. He at least knew what is was like growing up with a parent with an unseen ability, though.

Rav grinned at her next comment. He had received a very similar reply from another Novice, the last time he spoke of Warders. If every Novice and Soldier learns how to swing a sword, what need will there be for me? It was a facetious thought, of course, but it did seem like channellers could delve into whatever studies they fancied. He certainly wasn't going to make any sardonic comments about how learning a weapon didn't make someone as good as a Gaidin; he'd received plenty of bruises from those in white and black in the Yards.

"You certainly wouldn't be wasting anyone's time. You're not the first Novice I've spoken to who thinks that learning a weapon is a sound idea. And I've earned drubbings from Novices and Accepted myself." Admitting that didn't quite sting his pride as it once had. "Saldaean, yeah? I definitely know better than to underestimate Saldaean women. Second only to Aiel women I reckon. Or my sister." Light, my tongue is running loose again. "I'm sorry. It's always a pleasure to meet another Borderlander."

Rav found himself nodding in agreement to the Novice's words. Southerners didn't understand the horrors of the Blight. Trollocs and Halfmen were just boogie-men for children's stories. He had never slept in complete darkness due to the real fear of a Halfman appearing from the shadows, until he had come to the Tower. It still made him a little uneasy when the moon was new. He had pulled off the golden ring from his shorn finger, and was rolling in around in his left hand. A subconscious reaction whenever the Blight or home was mentioned.

"Warders' Yards..." He grumbled around the word like a tough piece of meat. He was finding it trickier to handle the sickening stench he smelt every day from that place. Blue-grey eyes noted Tia's confused frown, and the Drin adjusted his tone. "Sorry, yes, the Warders' Yards. A far wider reaching education than I had expected. I left Far Dara only knowing the longsword, and now I can add quarterstaves and my sword-breaker to the list." His right hand moved to grip the pommel of his sword-breaker, and found empty air. "The longsword will definitely be my favoured weapon. It's versatile, only requires a single hand to use, and it's not going to break easily." He had stopped playing with his ring, and slipped it back on his finger. "Plus, that spare hand lets me use my sword-breaker."

His heart was pumped faster at the thought of that. Smell or no smell, he enjoyed practicing the forms of the sword. It was his duty, after all, to master these weapons so he could face Shadowspawn and live. His easy smile lessened at the thought of that. He had asked for an assignment to the Citadel, the Grey Tower's bastion along the Blightborder. Could only be days before he was actually sent there. His tone grew meeker as he spoke, as the reality of his situation sunk in. "Speaking of the Borderlands, have you ever seen the Blight yourself, properly? I furthest I saw were the signal towers north of Fal Dara."