The White Tower ~ The Barracks & Mess Hall
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Cynadea on 17-08-2015, 21:02:50</h2>
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				Title: <strong>The White Tower ~ The Barracks &amp; Mess Hall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cynadea</strong> on <strong>17-08-2015, 21:02:50</strong>
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				<div align="center"><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: times new roman;" class="bbc_font">The Barracks &amp; Mess Hall</span></span></div><hr>This is where Trainees, Valdar and unbonded Masters hang out and sleep.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The White Tower ~ The Barracks &amp; Mess Hall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cold Heritage</strong> on <strong>19-08-2015, 06:30:36</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/f/fa/Trainee.jpg)</div><strong>Character name:</strong> Yfan Bravni<br><strong>Position:</strong> Trainee<br><strong>Tag:</strong> Ishara, Open<br><strong>Time:</strong> Evening, Saven 5th, 990NE<br><strong>Place:</strong> Mess Hall, a quiet table<br><strong>Warning:</strong> <br><hr><br>When Yfan and Isharra arrived at the mess hall there were few occupants. Some older men of Valdar ranked sat together at tables, nursing mugs of ale and discussing in low tones those they were in command of, or else swapping bawdy tales as men were wont to do. The latter group quickly found other things to discuss at the Accepted's presence, or else simply drank in the sight of the blonde woman for the rare draught that it was. <br><br>There was not much left, as Isharra had threatened. Yfan did not complain, but he did remind the mess staff that he was to have increased portions at Shayella Sedai's advice. Dropping the name of an Aes Sedai was sufficient to get Yfan a tray loaded with vegetables, fruit, cheese, and some meat. What the food lacked in fineness made more than made up for in quantity. He was given a mug and a jug of ale to go with it. The trainee selected a table and sat.<br><br>He first sipped from the mug, and held the liquid in his mouth. Then he slowly swallowed. He was so dry that it almost hurt. Yfan repeated this until he was comfortable drinking. He broke some bread and set it to soak in juices that flowed from the meat, and then slowly downed the softened bread. From there he branched out, once he was over the initial discomfort of having food and drink in him. As he ate and drank, Yfan glanced at Isharra, but each time it was deferent and anticipatory; the man waited for her to address him before speaking further. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The White Tower ~ The Barracks &amp; Mess Hall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Moraline</strong> on <strong>20-08-2015, 02:55:33</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/6/6f/Accepted.jpg)</div><strong>Character name:</strong> Ishara Casalain (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=234819.msg11551036#msg11551036)<br><strong>Position:</strong> Accepted (ready for the Test)<br><strong>Tag:</strong> Yfan, Open<br><strong>Time:</strong> Evening, Saven 5th, 990NE<br><strong>Place:</strong> Mess Hall, a quiet table<br><strong>Warning:</strong> n/a<br><hr><br>Listening to Yfran apologetically explain how he would be ready for combat if she wished to train and such was enough to make her eyes roll. These men were infuriating in their bravado. Together they strode across the Training Grounds to get to the Mess Hall. Opting to not speak her mind, a change of pace for her, she let him carry on. It didn't escape her that his pace seemed to quicken the closer her got to the food. A smile curled the corner of her lips ever so slightly as she maintained her calm exterior. A smile that would linger long after they entered the mess hall.<br><br>The group of Valdar in the corner were obviously caught off guard at the entrance of a Lady, so they quieted up and turned their heads slightly. Ishara nodded her head politely to Yfan as he went to get his food and she casually walked up to the Valdar. Looking them over with emotionless expression, Ishara sniffed and folded her arms beneath her breasts. "It is customary to offer a drink when a Lady is present. Especially since it appears to me that you have plenty to go around. Otherwise you might be not half as busy drinking and twice as busy doing something more valuable with your time," Ishara stared down at the hardened eyes of the Valdar men. She may be young but that look was near enough to that of an Aes Sedai to make a few of the men shift around in their seats uncomfortably. One of them outright excused himself and nodded politely to her, "If you'll excuse me, I must return to the Watch. By your leave, Lady." He almost said Sedai but her clothes and the small tucked cloth of white and multi-color bands she wore under her waist coat made it clear she was still only an Accepted. He left regardless.<br><br>Satisfied that she'd made at least a few of the Valdar thoroughly uncomfortable she left that table caught up with Yfan to sit at his table. Her sly half smile was sneaking back unto her face. Yfan wasn't looking at her as he gobbled his food up hungrily but she spoke to him, "What? They were saying inappropriate things. Or at least I assume they were. I know I shouldn't assume but Light it makes me suspicious when a group of people suddenly hushes up when I enter a room." Her words were loud enough to carry through the Mess to nearby ears.<br><br>"You know you should just call me, Ishara," she said to Yfan. "Someday you may call me Ishara Sedai but not today. Ishara will do. So, how long before you are considered fully trained? I never did understand how the training cycle works for the trainees. It seems to me from what I had seen in the past, you are well prepared already." She was evaluating him with her gaze now, watching for signs of his thoughts. "I understand you've faced trollocs before and not just the imaginary ones that too many trainees like to boast about. How doe it sit with you to know that you will face them again?" She adjusted herself in her seat and crossed her legs, posture perfectly correct even without a seat back to line up with, since the small bench she sat on was not much more then a flat piece of wood.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The White Tower ~ The Barracks &amp; Mess Hall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cold Heritage</strong> on <strong>20-08-2015, 03:55:37</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/f/fa/Trainee.jpg)</div><strong>Character name:</strong> Yfan Bravni<br><strong>Position:</strong> Trainee<br><strong>Tag:</strong> Ishara, Open<br><strong>Time:</strong> Evening, Saven 5th, 990NE<br><strong>Place:</strong> Mess Hall, a quiet table<br><strong>Warning:</strong> <br><hr><br>Yfan ate without relish. This was not because he found the food wanting or poor, although it was a haphazard portioning of whatever remained. Much of the bread he was given was heels and crusts from loaves used to other ends for those who were not kept from attending the mess hall at the proper hour. But the Kandori man was not complaining, nor did he show any signs of displeasure. He was ambivalent as he consumed. It would be expected because of his singular size and mass that he would be a big eater, but this went beyond that. It was a necessity, however, given how Healing weaves used the body's energies to repair what was damaged.<br><br>"I do not condemn." The man said softly when she confronted him about confronting the Valdar. "They were saying inappropriate things; one of them spoke of how two of them enjoyed the attentions of an Accepted with prodigious breasts at the same time." Yfan told her, words soft and without prudish nor relish in regards to the salacious nature of the snippet overheard. <br><br>He nodded when she directed him as to how he was to address her. The question that followed saw Yfan's large shoulders rise and fall in an uncertain shrug. "I offer the typical platitude that it is for the masters to decide when I am fully trained . . . and my sincerest uncertainty. There are distinct stages to the training process, but as no two men are perfectly identical, the time each man spends in each phase is not set." He raised his mug to his lips and drained it, pouring it full again from the jug given to him. He glanced over at a group of Valdar, and narrowed his eyes. "Each of those men ranks above me. Each is more skilled with their blades than I am, and each knows more sword forms than I do." The mug came to Yfan's lips again, and it was half empty when it returned to the table. His pale blue eyes turned back to Ishara and he met her eyes gray green. "On the sands I could defeat none of them. And though I know this will earn me even more of your disdain . . . I know that if they came upon me in a dark alley intent on my life, each would go to the grave a pauper."<br><br>Yfan's eyes did not linger long upon Ishara's. He spoke with dispassion and his eyes held no vainglory. The words were not braggadocio, though hew felt certain Ishara would take it as such. <br><br>"I think it will be a long time before I am fully trained. If I make it to Valdar, I think that is where I will fail." Yfan told Ishara as the food on his plate steadily disappeared into his mouth. "I have never commanded. Nor did I ever aspire to." But that was part of a Valdar's training. "The Master of Arms is hard, and I think his loss will only make him harder. But this will be for the best: only the greatest men will be made Warders. And the Aes Sedai have need only of the best men." Yfan spoke with undisguised respect for the Master of Arms, and of the harshness he was reputed to possess.<br><br>The man shifted his weight to be more comfortable on the bench, and gave the final question she posed due consideration. "At the risk of further derision . . . I am ambivalent. Trollocs are fearsome. More fearsome than men. I am . . . not afraid . . . in knowing that I will face Shadowspawn again. I have slain trollocs. I have felt the fear of the Eyeless's gaze. Knowing that I will face such again does not bother me any more than knowing I will face the sun and the rain again. When it happens, I feel as I feel. But simply knowing? It is not . . . anything . . . to me." He looked to her face, searching for any sort of understanding in her features, but he did not anticipate that she would. <br><br>"I wish I had been born a lightning bolt, Ishara." He confessed quietly to her, his eyes falling back to his food and he ate at greater speed, expecting to face scorn from the blonde across from him.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The White Tower ~ The Barracks &amp; Mess Hall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Moraline</strong> on <strong>21-08-2015, 03:40:03</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/6/6f/Accepted.jpg)</div><strong>Character name:</strong> Ishara Casalain (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=234819.msg11551036#msg11551036)<br><strong>Position:</strong> Accepted (ready for the Test)<br><strong>Tag:</strong> Yfan, Open<br><strong>Time:</strong> Evening, Saven 5th, 990NE<br><strong>Place:</strong> Mess Hall, a quiet table<br><strong>Warning:</strong> n/a<br><hr><br>Throughout most of the conversation, Ishara remained calm, composed, and serene. But she was to young, nervous, and amused with the conversation to not smile. That translated into her lips turned up at the corners and an amused expression crossing her face. Looking down she briefly tried to hide it by fixing a button on her waist coat and fidgeting with the wide belt over her shoulder. Reaching out with a deft pair of fingers she snatched a grape off his plate, a risky venture she guessed at the best of times but least of all when this mountain of a man was attacking his plate with such voracity. <br><br>Ishara leaned in a bit to talk slightly more quietly, "When you said they were talking about the attentions of an Accepted, I have to admit that I was a bit disappointed that I interrupted their conversation. I would like to know who it was.&nbsp; See, this is why I'd never make a good Blue. I'm too impatient. Should probably be listening instead of talking. You think if I went over and sat on the table like a flirtatious novice that I might be able to get them talking again? Curiosity burns in me. I bet it was that buxom young one that was just raised to Accepted. I think her name is Mollith or something from Altara. I hear those girls have some very unique ideals about men."<br><br>She blushed a little because there was more of a note of envy in her voice then she would have liked to express so openly. Her own idea on men being not far off from the idea of bedding a few of the men in the room. Fidgeting with buckles, buttons, and straps again she stopped talking and quickly tucked her long pale blond hair behind her ear then straightened out her posture again.<br><br>"Well, it's a shame you'll be so long in training. When I'm raised I want to bond several men and I could use a fine Borderlander such as yourself at my side. It's my hope to get men from several different points of the world to help guide me in my travels. There's darkfriends to be hunted down and much work to do." She dreamed openly, "I've heard tales of merchants that cross the Aiel Wastes. I hope one day to travel with them and see what's on the other side."<br><br>"Anyways, I prattle on much. I'm not even sure if I still want to practice my fencing this evening, anymore. Would you perhaps be free to accompany me into the city for the Fair? Are trainees allowed to leave the grounds? We normally need to seek permission but I believe we've been given leave to enjoy the festivities. I would very much like to see the illuminators and search out some Andoran made Honeycakes. What do you say?"
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The White Tower ~ The Barracks &amp; Mess Hall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cold Heritage</strong> on <strong>21-08-2015, 05:18:05</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/f/fa/Trainee.jpg)</div><strong>Character name:</strong> Yfan Bravni<br><strong>Position:</strong> Trainee<br><strong>Tag:</strong> Ishara, Open<br><strong>Time:</strong> Evening, Saven 5th, 990NE<br><strong>Place:</strong> Mess Hall, a quiet table<br><strong>Warning:</strong> <br><hr><br>"I have great confidence that you would succeed." Yfan told Ishara when she broached using her charms to see the men talking again. He believed that she could win them over, despite earlier frostiness. They seemed like the type of men who would respond eagerly to a sign of her favour and to her flirtations. The Borderlander glanced briefly over to where the other men were drinking, and then back to his food. The stuff was almost all gone. <br><br>He did not fail to notice that there was a blush and some envy in Ishara's voice, but Yfan did not do anything to draw attention to it. Nor did it really matter all that much to him that it seemed as though she desired to have multiple sexual partners at once. It was not something that he would judge her for, and in any case it was not something that he had any place to judge her for were he so inclined. He studiously cast his eyes downwards while the blonde young woman composed herself.<br><br>Yfan did not consider himself very fine. After all, he knew better men than himself. "I am not so fine." The man said quietly. He knew that he was a line soldier born and bred; that he lacked the look of eagles did not bother him much. A man had to know his limits, after all. And although Yfan strove to be the best that he could be he also recognized that there were things that lay beyond his grasp. <br><br>"I am permitted to leave the training grounds. I am free to travel within the boundaries of Tar Valon and to an extent within the White Tower itself beyond the specifically male areas." Yfan told Ishara. His food was all gone and he finished the last of the ale. "I am willing to accompany you to the Fair, but I would like to bathe first." The tall man said. It was probably best for everyone if he did that. Of course, if she told him no he was not going to protest and they could leave immediately.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The White Tower ~ The Barracks &amp; Mess Hall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Moraline</strong> on <strong>22-08-2015, 00:46:09</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/6/6f/Accepted.jpg)</div><strong>Character name:</strong> Ishara Casalain (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=234819.msg11551036#msg11551036)<br><strong>Position:</strong> Accepted (ready for the Test)<br><strong>Tag:</strong> Yfan, Open<br><strong>Time:</strong> Evening, Saven 5th, 990NE<br><strong>Place:</strong> Mess Hall, a quiet table<br><strong>Warning:</strong> n/a<br><hr><br>"Very well then, get cleaned up and meet me at the gate," Ishara was pleased with the turn of events and found herself looking forward to the Fair. That would be a distraction for sure. Even as she thought it her mind drifted back to the one hundred weaves and impending test. "I'll get changed immediately. See you soon." <br><br>Ishara would part ways with him at the door and slip off to her room to get back into her Accepted robes. As much as she wanted to remain in her training gear, she felt that as a representative of the Tower it would be more fitting to wear her robes. Plus, if the Mistress of Novices caught her in those tights and boots outside of the training grounds she was sure there would be a tanning of her hide that she would never forget.<br><br>(To be continued in The City (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=234951.msg11567803#msg11567803))
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The White Tower ~ The Barracks &amp; Mess Hall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lithium</strong> on <strong>04-09-2015, 02:04:27</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/c/c1/RedAjah.jpg)</div><strong>Character name:</strong> Theraeve Valaim (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=234819.msg11557599#msg11557599)<br><strong>Position:</strong> Aes Sedai of the Red Ajah<br><strong>Bondmate:</strong> n/a<br><strong>Tag:</strong> Kalain<br><strong>Time:</strong> Late night, Saven 6th, 990NE<br><strong>Place:</strong> Barracks<br><strong>Warning:</strong> n/a<br><hr><br>Theraeve had discovered something today. A kindred spirit? Hardly anything so poetic. More like she'd come across somebody who wrestled with the same affliction as she did. She knew nothing about him save for what she'd gleaned from the quips exchanged between blows, mainly that he was the most incredibly pretentious and patronizing bastard she'd ever met, and his past was even more of a mystery, but Theraeve had seen it behind those hardened blue eyes. That same familiar beast that she had to keep caged inside, the one that she'd lost control over after he refused to do the same. <br><br>Like a moth to the flame, Theraeve found herself inevitably drawn in. She'd tried distancing herself away from the tower, tried drowning the thoughts out with the hardest liquor offered at the tavern, but no matter what that throbbing at the back of her head persisted, like the hypnotic beat of a war drum luring her in towards some predestined battle. There was somebody else out there like her, somebody with whom she could finally let go of the chains tethering her demons, if only for a little while...and if only she could get him to do the same. Last time it hadn't worked out too well, but now after he'd had the entire day to stew in his anger, without any onlookers or meddlesome Sisters, Theraeve expected a different outcome.<br><br>Having had time to sober up over the last couple of hours, she stalked deftly and silently, keeping most of her weight on the balls of her feet to avoid any clicking from the tall heels that she'd chosen to wear. The halls were mostly deserted in the middle of the night, but she still took good care not to be noticed by anyone on the way to the Master of Arms' private quarters. Theraeve made it all the way to his doorstep before hesitating briefly as goosebumps sprouted up all over her arms, legs and the back of her neck. Her stomach suddenly churned with anxiety, twisting itself into burning knots as second thoughts came pouring into her head, some part of her psyche trying to convince her that this was a terrible idea.<br><br>Instead, it ended up serving as the final push that she needed, prompting her to knock zealously against the door before she could get a chance to change her mind. If and when Kalain opened the door, he would see Theraeve standing there, clad in a dark fuchsia silk robe with black trimmings. The hemline swept breezily over the floor, and the garment may have seemed rather demure if not for the way in which it hugged the contour of her body so snugly, leaving little doubt that little to nothing could be worn underneath. <br><br>Theraeve's hair was no longer completely disheveled, instead flowing in soft waves as it usually did, partially obscuring the left side of her face. The decision to leave her blackened right eye completely visible had been taken deliberately. For some reason, she believed that the predator inside of him would get excited at the sight of her bruises, marks left by his own hands upon her body. They would serve as a reminder of how good, how <em>liberated</em> he must have felt while inflicting them, and hopefully the same lust for more that Theraeve herself was experiencing.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The White Tower ~ The Barracks &amp; Mess Hall</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cerigo</strong> on <strong>21-09-2015, 22:32:08</strong>
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				<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>
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