Patricipants: Kelsyn, Bhaisra

Background:

Having heard of Kelsyn's call for Trainers in a variety of weapons forms, Bhaisra seeks him out to offer her services.

Kelsyn:
Looming before you is the chiseled features of a hardened man, seemingly having well aged into his late twenties earlier thirties. His dark blue eyes seem to hold a note to menace to them, as well as a bit of melancholy. He seem to be fighting a war withn himself, from the expression on his features, as if it's a struggle to live on each day, yet compelled to do so. Blonde hair droops into his eyes, worn long, yet tied in the back. He appears to have rought hands as well as features, yet no physical scars can be seen on him.
Kelsyn seems to be sporting the normal regalia of a warrior, dressed in chain armor, overlayed with dark, brown paints, and a fine white tunic made of cotton. He wears a vest sporting a small symbol of the White Tower, and seems to carry with him a single cloak that swirls about in color, much like those befamed of Gaidin. His feet sport boots, made of dark leather, keeping them protected from the cold and the rain.

Bhaisra:
Some women were never meant to tend a hearth, raise a child, or keep a home. Bhaisra Kalhidus is such a woman, and has found her home in the saddle, a lance always at the ready. Though she smiles frequently, and seems good natured enough, she has the same grim set of jaw and eye that marks the soul of a fighter who's seen many horrors of battle. Her eyes are a dark grey, the corners finely lined. Hair that was once raven black, and is now streaked with silver is braided tightly at the nape of her neck, the end of the long plait brushing her waist.
Standing at a height only slightly less than that of the average man, she garbs herself in clothing suited to riding and the arts of war. Dark red leather breeches have been worn shiny in places from much use, as has the sleeveless black coat that buttons all the way to her chin, its long hem that flares almost to her knees perhaps a shameful nod at her lack of a skirt. Fitted sleeves of sturdy, though somewhat greyed linen cover her arms, and her hands are covered in leather gloves. Boots that lace well above her knee complete the masculine ensemble.

Setting: Kelsyn's Room: Barracks, White Tower

Kelsyn calls out, "Enter." He appears to be sitting at his desk, reading over a passage within one of the large tomes sitting there. He glances up as the person enters his room, face stoic in expression; devoid of any emotion. It's as if this man lives completely in the void, unfeeling and uncaring. "I am." He grunts, as he looks over Bhaisra. "Who are you?" He demands, not a very friendly greeting, is it?

Raising her chin slightly, as if preparing to take the sort of treatment she's been dealt countless times before, Bhaisra speaks clearly, "Bhaisra Kalhidus, of Arafel." She shifts the lance to rest against her shoulder, "I'd heard you were in need of trainers."

An amused snort appears to exit Kelsyn's lips as he regards Bhaisra, "And you think you can be one? A woman?" He rises from his chair, his form looming within the room. His blue eyes swirl about lazily, though in amusement. He smirks, "Training men is not a woman's place." He judges before he even sees her skill.

Though her grey eyes narrow dangerously, the tall woman's voice remains calm, "Master Gaidin, skill in not something we are born with. Whether man or women makes no difference. I've spent twenty five years of my life holding a lance, and can certainly prove my skill."

As answer to Bhaisra's own dangerous look, Kelsyn's eyes, too, narrow in a dangerous fashion. "Girl." He speaks derisively, "I've probably seen more horrors than yourself, put together." A wicked grin appears on his features, "I -lived- in the bloomin Blight for several years..." Something he's not even revealed to his current Aes Sedai, "And know terrors of the world... and skill when I see it. What makes you think you can measure up?" There's a look not right in the Gaidin's eyes, and he seems to snort at something else, "I am not Master Gaidin. I am simply Kelsyn."

Unfazed, Bhaisra shrugs simply, her stance remaining casual, "I could see the Blight from my bedroom window, growing up. I've spent more nights in those dangerous depths than not. I've painted hides of land red with Trolloc blood." She raises her eyes and meets your gaze unblinkingly, "I've -seen- those horrors, fought til I was covered in the blood of enemy and friend alike, while men choked on their own gore. If you are so perceptive, Gaidin, then you -know- what I have seen."

Despite Bhaisra's appearance, her hardened looks and everything else involved with being a proper warrior, Kelsyn snorts once more, a look of disbelief entering his swirling azure eyes. "And I am the bloody Dark One himself." He grunts, "Come from Shayol Ghul to bring darkness and chaos upon the world." He smirks at the girl before her, "You've no more killed a Trolloc than I can bear babies girl."

Bhaisra takes a shaky breath, a hint of anger in her eyes, "I would not lie about such a thing. I find it disturbing that all my life I have heard of the honor of the Gaidin...And yet here stands one before me who would not take a soldier by her word. I tell you what I have seen, and I tell you what I have done. I am no more a braggart than I am a liar, but there is not a man in Kalhidus keep who can best me at the lance, not even my teacher." Her knuckles grow white around the haft of her weapon, "I can understand your doubts, Gaidin, but I ask that you give me a chance to prove myself. I'm certain you will not find my skill lacking."

"Bah." Kelsyn retorts, "You are a woman. I do not fight women." Well, unless they really start to tick him off, and that's not a good idea with this sword wielding, insane Gaidin. "I have honor and there is none in beating you to a bloody, senseless pulp. His eyes grow more dangerous by the moment, that not right look establishing itself more readily than before. "Now go home, girl, before I do something I might regret." His own hands find their way to his sword, taking the tightening of Bhaisra's around her lance to mean something threatening.

She stands her ground, but makes no move to defend or attack. Her voice lowers, "I've no home left to return to, Kelsyn Gaidin. I have my armor, my horse, and my lance." She glances meaningfully to your sword, then back into your eyes, "Though you may find me a worthy opponent, I would much prefer to have you at my back. I learned long ago that it is useful to have an ally, especially in the Blight, with the songs of the worms, and the trees themselves drawing close in the night."

With a stark casualness, Kelsyn crosses his arms before him, snorting, "Then go find a home and make babies like you should. You've no business holding that weapon, woman. No more than I've any business delving into Aes Sedai matters" His blue gaze stops swirling, fixing itself darkly upon Bhaisra.

Though her jaw clenches angrily, Bhaisra nods with quiet resignation, "My teacher always told me that Gaidin were not only strong of body, but also had the mental capacity to make wise decisions. Perhaps I should seek him out and let him know his information was in error." With that, she turns, stepping for the door, her eyes down.

"Your so called -teacher- was a fool for ever having allowed you to put that lance within your hands, girl." Kelsyn smirks at Bhaisra's back as she starts toward the exit. "It is not your place to be fighting battles."

Pausing with her hands on the door, Bhaisra looks over her shoulder, "It has been my place since my twentieth year, when I first set foot in the Blight. Fourteen years now, Gaidin, I've fought the Shadow. I've found more of a place for myself with an Eyeless One pinned by my blade than ever I did among the women of my home." She steps through the door and allows it to shut behind her.

Switch back to...

Courtyard: White Tower, Tar Valon

Contents: Marelain, Kolby, Kristalisa

Marelain laughs sharply, "I'll bet you're right. It's all a conspiracy to keep us gardening."

Kristalisa smiles as she sees the woman enter the yard. "Can I help you, ma'am?"

Bhaisra stalks out of the Barracks, her lance held in a tight fist. The smile she had when she went in is completely gone, replaced by a look of sheer rage.

Kristalisa stops to blink and watch this odd woman stalk across the yard in disbelief. She mutters something to Marelain. Kristalisa mutters to Marelain, "... never seen... like that..."

Tossing an angry head-gesture towards the Barracks, Bhaisra practically snarls, "Only if you can knock some sense into those you would call 'Gaidin'. I thought such brave warriors were supposed to be wise, as well as strong, eh?"

Kristalisa chuckles. "Ah, our Gaidin. Can I help you find one, or maybe find out what the problem is?"

Jaice walks down the steps into the Courtyard, after pushing through the main doors of the Tower.

Bhaisra's lance looks like it's about to snap in her angry fist, "Oh....I've certainly found one. The most stubborn, pig headed..." She trails off, unable to get the words past the anger that tightens her throat. "He wouldn't even give me a chance!" she finally blurts.

Kristalisa smiles and curtseys to Jaice as she walks in. She is standing by the angry-looking woman, with MArelain weeding nearby.

Stabbing the three-inch long buttspike of her lance into the ground roughly, Bhaisra rubs a hand across her forehead, still muttering darkly, "'No woman's fit to train a man'....My white behind she isn't..." She trails off, and straightens her coat roughly before giving Jaice a nod.

The great Tower doors open as a slender dark-skinned Accepted wanders out this autumn morning, her tattooed hands resting lightly on the white skirts of her dress. Dozens of long, tiny braids sway down her back with each fluid step, but she pauses at the outburst in the courtyard. Merely arching a brow, Jaice studies the unusual visitor.

Kirill enters the Courtyard of the White Tower through the Osendrelle Gates, watched by the hawkeyes of the Tower Guard.

Kelsyn enters the Courtyard from the Barracks.

Jaice's consistantly unreadable expression never falters as she watches the angry woman with calm blue eyes. She returns Kristalisa's nod, and makes her way with rolling steps to a bench nearby, where she settles herself with a slowness that speaks of casual ease. "You must be the woman the town is gossiping about," the Atha'an Miere says to Bhaisra. "You are not dressed as other shorebound." A long pause follows, and she adds dryly, "Not the women, anyway." It's hard to say by that expression what exactly she thinks of that.

Kelsyn walks out of the barracks, his feet resounding within the yard as he stomps toward his old haunt, the wall. He settles himself against it, using one shoulder, holding it up as is only proper. He then half closes his eyes in a fashion that might suggest he's here to take his morning nap; though the wary would know he's quite alert.

Kirill strides into the courtyard he looks around for something or perhaps someone. His staff is held tight in his hand. Spying what he hopes to be the right person he walks over in the direction of the resting Kelsyn and stops a good 10 feet away. Not wanting to really disturb the man, Kirill Clears his throat loudly.

Kelsyn does not appear to look up as Kirill clears his throat; after all, to Kelsyn that could only mean he has a frog within it. He continues to rest where he is, crossing his arms before him. Somehow, though, his stance seems almost... menacing.

Kirill frowns down at the man, "Are you, or are you not a Gaiden? If you are not I will continue my search elsewhere." Kirill's eyes hold a burning desire that is spurned on by recent events. Druming his fingers on his long staff he waits for a responce.

Kirill's words must have been just audible to Jaice, for her eyes widen in startlement as she glances over. Evidently she's never heard anyone dare speak to this Gaidin in such a tone, and she watches silently as though waiting to see if the man's arms get ripped off.

Only now, at the sound of Kirill's voice, does Kelsyn look up. The expression on his features is more than enough to turn any 'sane' man's blood cold; it is an emotionless pit with a lurking danger deep within his eyes. "First -boy-" He speaks in a near growl. "You will be respectful when within the Tower walls." He pauses, glaring hard now at Kirill, a look that was within his eyes before having never completely left, that swirling blue raging darkly, "Second -boy-, you will -never- take that tone with me again, or I will beat you to a bloody pulp. Un.der.stood?" He speaks the last as if to crudely emphasize his words, one of his hands casually making it's way down to his sword, his body looking quite lithe and ready to strike at any moment should his mind decide to do so.

All Bhaisra's former anger seems to slip away as Kelsyn walks out. Though the high spots of red in her cheeks take a while to fade, she gives him a respectful nod before turning back to Jaice, "Gossip, eh? And what do they say that is not plainly apparent?"

Kirill looks up at the man and returns his look, though no where near menacing, his is more of a devious nature. placeing his fist to his chest in salute he bows, "Forgive my rudeness then Sir. I still am not completely familiar with proper etiquette. My name is Kirill and I am seeking admitance to the Gaiden Traning program."

"You have not answered my question." There is a dangerous undertone to Kelsyn's voice as his hand now grips his sword; patience already tried once this day. He locks his cold, blue eyes on Kirill, that not right look turning into a dark, menacing glower now.

Kristalisa watches the scene between Kirill and Kelsyn worriedly, shooting a quick glance in Marelain's direction, and also watching to see the reaction of the new woman.

Jaice shrugs a shoulder, her gaze too flicking to the volatile Gaidin before turning once more to Bhaisra. "Oh, many things." One tattooed hand raises to brush several tiny braids back from her face. "That you are some sort of shadowspawn... that you are insane..." For some reason she glances at Kelsyn on those words. "... Or that you were raised by a pack of animals. The men disdain you and the women mention how hard it is to knit or embroider with something the size of that." The dark-skinned woman nods to the lance that leans gently against Bhaisra's shoulder.

Kirill nods "That is understood Sir. I will do as you say."

Kirill notes the mans position and appears to not notice really other than his knuckles gripping his staff are growing white. But as a thief taker he is familiar with hiding things on his face.

A snort appears to come from the looming Gaidin's direction, "You will, will you?" His blue eyes turning more cold by the moment. "Then start with learning the proper etiquette before asking to get trained. I do not work with those who disrespect others in their own homes." He keeps hands upon his sword, not ready to lift it just yet. "Don't ask me again until you -do- know the proper way to address -everyone- that lives in this Tower."

Losing all her anger in faint amusement, Bhaisra smiles warmly at the Accepted, "Shadowspawn? The last I heard to call me that were the Children of the Light." She chuckles, and her voice lowers a little, into the kind of tone a parent might use when telling a child a frightening story, "As for knitting, I've used my lance to twist the guts of Trollocs along the Border of Arafel for many miles, but I fear such a gory blanket would be ill welcomed."

"Some might say the same of the Power," Jaice says levelly, one brow arched. She doesn't seem terribly phazed at the mention of Trolloc guts; in her mind, one day she'll be doing the same, although not with a lance. Still her expression does not change, so it's hard to say whether she is favourable to the idea of a woman on the battlefield or not. "I do not know where you come from, that such things are accepted. Among the Atha'an Miere, women serve the sea the same as the men; though none that I know of have trained to become Master of Sword." Again that appraising glance, as though Jaice thinks none would want to. "How... exactly... do you intend to become accepted here?" Blunt, isn't she?

Kirill gives the man a brief smile, "I will learn the proper ways to address all in the tower and will return. Thank you for you time.

Bhaisra tilts her head slightly, "I've never been accepted anywhere but in the hearts of a very few. I expect things will be much the same here." She glances over at Kelsyn for the briefest of moments before looking back, "But do not be mistaken...I've never touched a sword. The lance has been a much better friend to me." She takes a seat, and jabs idly at the toe of ehr boot with the buttspike on her polearm, "I suppose I never really felt at home until I first rode into the Blight to stare the enemy in the face, however ugly it may be, and return with the blood of the enemy on my hands."

Kirill gives the man a brief smile, "I will learn the proper ways to address all in the tower and will return. Thank you for you time." Again his head bobs in a brief bow before turning away from the man against the wall. once his back is turned his eye's narrow in frustration. He will get into the program if it kills him to do so. walking over to one of the benches to sit down.

Kristalisa walks over to Kirill and begins talking to him quietly on the bench.

Another snort escapes Kelsyn's presence, whether in response to Kirill or to Bhaisra, it's hard to say. His narrowed eyes continue to follow the man until he moves to sit, that dangerous note still lurking there. He pushes himself from the Tower wall, heading toward the barracks. "If that arrogant fool does not learn soon enough, his bloody guts will be spread upon the Tower walls." He comments aloud, not really looking phased or upset with his words, or as if he cares that others hear as he makes his way into the barracks.

Kelsyn pulls open the door to the Barracks and leaves the Courtyard.

Jaice leans back on one arm as the warrior-woman sits near her, and one might almost think she hadn't heard Bhaisra's words, her eyes instead following Kirill as he wanders across the Courtyard. "There is one place I call home, but likely I will never be there again." She studies the woman a long moment, her blue eyes shaded in thought. "That is a hard home you have chosen."

The grey eyes of the female soldier follow Kelsyn out of the courtyard, but her face is expressionless. With the faintest of sighs she turns back to Jaice, nodding, "Indeed. Especially when other's would keep you from it. It's a strange road, and from those not on it, it is a thing of disgust, that their tiny minds cannot accept."

"I am not on it," the slender Sea Folk woman notes wryly. "There must be much space rattling about in my head, if you are right."

A warm smile deepens the lines of Bhaisra's face, "I've met a few that can see the twisting of it well enough to accept my choice in following it. Even the Wheel does not always weave an even pattern, every thread fitting together perfectly."

Jaice lets out a quiet 'hmf'. "I am finding that out more and more," she says dryly. Evidently Jaice's experience with the Pattern hasn't been one she considers normal, and by that tone she'd rather it were, just once. "Well. I do not say I know what to make of you being here, but then, most shorebound ways still baffle me, even after seven years. But I say this: If you can get even some of those Gaidin to accept you, then you may be ahead of the storm. They are a discriminating lot."

Bhaisra shakes her head regretfully, "I fear they misunderstand my motives. I am a simple soldier, for all my unusual...aspects. I would merely like the opportunity to prove myself, and possibly share my skills with others."

Jaice raises a brow. "Your motives. They assume you wish to... play games? Sew shirts between practices? Woo the men?"

Bhaisra laughs, tossing her head back for a moment, "I think they may erroneously feel that I seek their path; That of a Gaidin. But truly, I am happy as a simple lancer, and would not wish another life."

Jaice shakes her head, the movement sending dozens of tiny braids to tumbling forward over her shoulders. . "I have never heard of a female Gaidin, so I do not think they need to worry. Perhaps once it was done... thousands of years ago. I do not know."

Kirill stands and gives Krista a very low bow, 'I have things to attend to If you will excuse me Novice?' he looks up from his bow and whispers, He mutters to Kristalisa, "... that... novices..."

Marelain walks out of the Tower after having gone inside to clean up. She casts a long look around the courtyard.

Kristalisa smiles and mutters something to Kirill.

Kristalisa mutters to Kirill, "No,... level... A... other form of..."

Kirill smiles and nods before turning to leave and walking towards the gates to the city.

Kirill passes through the Osendrelle Gates under the watchful eyes of the Tower Guards.

Scowling softly, the tall woman goes back to tapping the spike of her lance against her toe, "I'd heard that they were looking for trainers, and thought I could be of help. Apparently they are not -that- desperate."

Marelain walks over to a bench, carrying a book. She sits near to the conversation, in case she can pick up pieces of it.

"You asked one," Jaice points out levelly, "And that one, although a Gaidin, was not the Master of Arms." Jaice adds to that, amusement filling in her voice. "I am not saying you will be successful. Probably, you will not. You simply do not look like the sort of person who gives up so easily." Is she teasing you?

Bhaisra quirks a brow, "Is the Master of Arms the one who is in charge of hiring Trainers?"

Jaice nods slowly. "Yes. He is in charge of the trainees, so I would assume, the trainers as well. His name is Gould Gaidin."

With a glance around the courtyard, Bhaisra asks, "Is he around, that I might speak to him?"

Jaice nods toward the barracks. "Likely, he is in there. But he will be around in the practice yard later today. He usually trains when it is hottest, to wear the students more."

A gentle smirk curves Bhaisra's lips, "Tev'reghan used to do that to me. I'd always come away from it smelling like a wet dog."

Jaice studies the clouds far above. "Well yes, that's how they smell. Most of the Novices spent so much time being attracted by it that they closed the practice yard to all students."

Marelain wrinkles her nose a little. Either from the book she's reading, or what Bhaisra just said. She -seems- absorbed in her book.

Kristalisa chuckles a bit from her spot on the bench.

"I have always found it a rather distasteful scent, myself," Bhaisra muses quietly, "But then, the wives of men returning from battle always did seem to whisk them away to the bedroom as soon as they arrived." She gives a derisive snort, "Though it may have been a wish to get them clean as soon as possible."

"I have never heard of Trolloc guts as an aphrodesiac," Jaice says with a slight smile. Standing, she smooths her skirts before turning to the warrior-woman again. "If I do not get back to that ter'angreal, the Aes Sedai will make me wish I had never been born. It was... interesting... meeting you." Again, that contemplative glance, as though she's still not figured you out. "I am Jaice din Coris Swift Sea."

Bhaisra gives a subtle nod, "I am Bhaisra Kalhidus. It was a pleasure meeting you, Jaice." She rises from her seat and drops a courteous bow. After all, curtsies look -ridiculous- when you're not wearing skirts.

Jaice knows it far too well; she grew up in oiled breeches, after all. She answers the bow with a slight curtsy and turns to walk fluidly toward the Tower doors. Even years from a ship, she still looks as though she could walk a sailspar with her eyes closed.