<div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/9/90/WTMaster.jpg)</div><strong>Character name:</strong>Kalain Baneron (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=234819.msg11561809#msg11561809)<br/><strong>Position:</strong>Master of Arms<br/><strong>Tag:</strong>Theraeve Valaim<br/><strong>Time:</strong>Saven 6th | 990 NE | Late Night<br/><strong>Place:</strong>Master of Arm’s quarters<br/><strong>Warning:</strong><br/><hr/><br/>There was now too much firewood. As far as problems went, it was a great one to be had. The barracks now had a winter’s supply worth of wood to make sure it was kept warm in the coming months. The trainees were elated by the recent rage that the Master of Arms had worked himself up into, those that had the good sense so scurry away and not make eye contact at least. The task of cutting wood was usually reserved as a punishment. It was one of Kal’s favorite as it forced the trainee to focus so that they could handle the axe properly, strength to drive it through in a single blow, and stamina to see it through but now there was a large stack of wood neatly stacked and ready for use.<br/><br/>He had spent the better part of the evening with the axe. The Master of Arms did not trust himself with a sword all but the other Master’s would not be able to keep up and even then he did not want to injure or maim them because he was angry. He had far more respect for the men and women then to subject them to his tirade so instead he worked with the wood. It was supposed to help, the work was to get his mind off of the anger that he had unleashed upon the sands to give it an outlet but instead he had just dulled three different axes and almost chopped the stump in half from the force that he used. This was not going to work.<br/><br/>With a growl he waved to the other trainees that thought they were getting out of their punishments from other Masters. “Deliver this to the tower, make sure the Offices are stocked fully and if I hear that any one of you used the lifts instead of carrying them up the stairs, you get to bring it all back and start it again tomorrow.” Unfulfilled he had returned back to his quarters. They were sparsely furnished, a bed, a storage chest at the end, a place for his clothes, two chairs, and a desk filled with a mountain of paperwork. The previous master of arms had enjoyed the finer things and it had taken Kal no time at all to remove the opulent rugs and wall hangings choosing to replace them with dark woods and metal. The trappings of a soldier that refused to let go. The door was closed with enough force to send it rattling in its hinges, at least something had gone right today. The blacksmith and carpenters had finally been able to reinforce the door.<br/><br/>What came next was the usual, he unbelted the sword and placed it next to the bed. Opting to pour himself a stout drink hoping that it could dull the razor sharp ache that the axe could not. It turned out to be a waste. Even the fuzzy feeling of the alcohol did nothing for him. With a growl he fell into the bed, trying to close his eyes and sleep through it but even that refused to come to him. His body and mind refused to let go, refused to move on and instead kept pushing him to act to do<em>something</em>. He paced the room, cleaned his blade at least half a dozen time and as the night went on. The rest of the building had stilled when he first heard those footsteps. They were light. Closing his eyes he listened harder. It was not the light steps of a sneak or even a thief which meant only one thing.<br/><br/>A woman.<br/><br/>Kal had half a mind to get out and send the girl scurrying back to the tower. His feet were half way out of the bed when he heard the steps turn. The shifting creaks of the old wooden floors indicating that she was coming closer. Moira? No, it was no way it could be her she was in the tower asleep or close enough to it by the feel of the bond. Perhaps it was one of the other Masters that had enticed a woman to their bed, Light knows they could use the distraction. It all changed when the footsteps stopped at his door. Eyes narrowed as he grabbed for his blade the familiar feel of the leather and cold steel settling perfectly in his hand. The knock surprised him, he had expected an attack the rush of combat that would perhaps dull the ache that the Master of Arms felt. Instead he only growled stalking over to the door and opening it.<br/><br/>“What-“<br/><br/>He took in the sight that awaited him. The silk and curves that spoke of finer things, things that had no place on the sands. His blue eyes absorbed it all, the way the material hugged her body, the way the cold air had hardened other parts. There was only one reason someone dressed like that and as he saw her choice of foot wear it was only confirmed. “Down the hall and to the left, I am sure the Sword Mistress would be expecting you.” Eyes raked back up to hers, the vestiges of the fury still roiling through him as he saw the markings on her face. She had not had them healed. He left the door opened and turned his back towards here. This time he kept her at the edge of his vision as he went for the glass that held his drink.<br/><br/>Seeing her like that, had caused his throat to become dry his lips… he had licked them before moving to the drink. The primal desire to fight was replaced with its counterpart seeing her prepared in such a way. He wanted to fuck.<br/>