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DRAGONMOUNT

A WHEEL OF TIME COMMUNITY

Welcome to the Farm, Soldier! Attn: Trolly!


Grimmlocke

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Baran Dholwin stepped onto the Traveling Grounds, carefully running his hands over his coat to make sure his uniform was on properly. It wouldn't do to have a new recruit get the wrong impression upon arriving. His gnarled hands finally made their way up to his high collar, where they made contact with his pins. The silver sword pin was nothing new. By now it was a familiar presence, it's miniscule weight a comforting reminder that he was no longer a Soldier. The other pin though, still surprised him. The Dragon reared proudly across from the Sword, as though daring the tiny weapon to try and pierce it. Still, the pairing seemed natural, almost inevitable. Baran found, as he waited for his newest student, that it was difficult to keep his hands away from it. What was even more difficult, was controlling his face every time he touched the thing. A foolish grin was not something he would have allowed himself even before he had joined the Black Tower, let along something he would allow on his face now that he had finally been made a full Asha'man.

 

Forcing his hands away from his collar, the young Cairhienin clasped his hands behind his back and spread his feet, looking up at the overcast sky. He wondered idly if it would be snowing by the time the new recruit arrived. He tried to picture himself standing impatiently, his foot tapping irritably while the new arrival stepped through the Gateway, his head protected from falling snow by a shield of Air. An impressive sight, he thought, especially to someone new to the Power. He himself would have been impressed by something like that when he had first arrived at the Farm.

 

Now though, he was not the raw recruit arriving by wagon at the Farm. No, he was the Asha'man now, and it was his duty to make sure the new recruits knew where they were and who was in charge. Well, perhaps it was a little bit of his pleasure as well. That foolish grin threatened to force it's way back onto his face at the memory of the faces of all the Soldiers he had woken that one morning with his early announcements. He shook his head, trying to clear his head and fight down the urge to chuckle at the same time. A look at the other Asha'man standing around, waiting for whatever their orders had them waiting for at the Traveling grounds, helped him calm himself. To a man, they were taller than him. It was no longer infuriating in the way it had been when he had first arrived at the Farm, or maddening as it had been when he had first left his home village. No, now it was more a minor irritation. The knowledge that he could probably hold his own in combat against any of them was definitely a comfort, as was the knowledge that he was their equal in rank as well as skill. Yes, power was an excellent salve for his pride. Not that he would ever admit to feeling pride in his new-found power. That would no doubt make others think him arrogant. He knew that he might one day need these men, and it would not do to have one leave him to die because he was thought so little of. No, better to ingratiate himself to his fellows than to push them away.

 

Soldiers, though. Soldiers he could push about with impunity. Not that he ever punished a new recruit without reason. He just punished them a bit more harshly than might be necessary. He was a weapon, and so were they. Was that not part of forging? Beating the metal into shape? He shook his head again. This was pointless. He was to wait for the new recruit and make sure he was integrated into the Farm by the time he left him. He would obey his orders. He would make a Soldier of this man, whoever he was.

 

With that thought in mind, the new-made Asha'man lowered his head to look at the Traveling platform and spread his legs until they were shoulder width apart, and tightened his hands behind his back, forming the Void to keep himself from shivering against the day's cold.

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