Ashar/Jek

[Ashar]

a Ashar Rhiad Jek Akalak 3rd of Spring, 485 - age 31 Male 1st mark of Evantia Tukant Fluent Common Basic Arumenic Poor Profession: Cavalry Kavran Base Pay: 5gm/day Modified Pay: 7gm/day Knowledge & Training Possessions Housing & Family Gnosis Kashar is a buff purple-hued Akalak, no more or less fit than his peers. He is tall, his hair is black as darkness, and his body is well-proportioned. He has yet to sustain any superficial bodily wounds such as scars, nor has he indulged in tattooing his skin. Whatever makes him unique is within him, not without.   History Ashar was born to a woman called Ashkara and an Akalak named Jenar, both good but unacknowledged writers. They raised him to read at a very early age, and uncle Jedion took care of training him in the basics. Unfortunately, the trials of birthing an Akalak took its toll on Ashkara, and she died before Ashar saw his tenth birthday. The Arumenic he learned from her is his only remaining connection.   Ashar The books his mother left behind had a very profound effect on the young Ashar. Over the years he has trained hard, doing his best to further his fighting skills and pursuing a role as a Kavran. He is not really wild, but he is highly violent and relishes the chance to test his mettle, even if he knows he will lose. When he witnesses crime, he is quick to subdue the perpetrator without second thought. It is all in pursuit of his dream, which he has yet to tell anyone.   Jek Though the repressed soul between the two, Jek is a pacifist in all but name. He would much rather pursue the same path his parents took and become a writer, abandoning his role as a Kavran to simply study his mother's work alongside father. He is uncommon in that he doesn't fight for control with the same savagery as the common dark brother, but he is persistent and stubborn and not to be underestimated when wrestling for control.   Spring 515AV Date Link Type Grading Status 10th All Work Solo Graded 14th Who Will Buy? Open Incomplete 21st Safety Shattered PM to Join Incomplete 22nd Needing a Helping Hand Closed Incomplete 29th A Spark PM to Join Incomplete 40th Where the Wind Takes Me PM to Join Incomplete 44th Bad Habits Open Incomplete   Autumn 514AV Date Link Type Grading Status 11th Feel the Burn Closed Incomplete 55th From Brawl to Bloodbath Closed Incomplete   Summer 514AV Date Link Type Grading Status 14th Fugitive Closed Graded 22nd A World of Words Closed Graded 24th Date Night PM to Join Graded 25th Delving into Divinity Closed Graded 33rd The History of the Future Quest Incomplete 46th Battling Bandages Closed Graded 47th Duty Calls Solo Graded 53rd Balancing Relations Closed Graded 85th Slow and Steady Open Abandoned 88th Beloved Open Incomplete   Flashbacks Date Link Type Grading Status 57th of Winter, 493 AV Kindled Dreams Solo Incomplete 25th of Summer, 497 AV Another Day, Another Reminder Solo Graded 26th of Summer, 510AV Horse Shadows' Hoarse Ramblings Closed Graded 44th of Spring, 511AV Like Any Other Day Closed Complete

[Ashar]

Skills   Physical Skills Skill Level Total Points Breakdown Body Building Novice 2pts 2xp Acrobatics Novice 5pts 1xp, 4xp Stealth Novice 2pts 2xp Running Novice 2pts 1xp, 1xp Endurance Novice 7pts 2xp, 1xp, 1xp, 3xp Unarmed Combat Novice 14pts 10rb, 3xp, 1xp Riding Competent 26pts 25sp, 1xp Weapon: Naginata Competent 36pts 25sp, 2xp, 3xp, 1xp, 5xp   Mental Skills Skill Level Total Points Breakdown Planning Novice 2pts 2xp Meditation Novice 1pt 1xp Philosophy Novice 3pts 3xp Intimidation Novice 1pt 1xp Interrogation Novice 1pt 1xp Tactics Novice 7pts 2xp, 5xp Detection Novice 2pts 2xp Rhetoric Novice 2pts 1xp, 1xp Investigation Novice 4pts 1xp, 3xp Reading Novice 4pts 2xp, 2xp Socialization Novice 17pts 4xp, 2xp, 5xp, 4xp, 2xp Observation Novice 23pts 2xp, 4xp, 4xp, 3xp, 3xp, 3xp, 2xp, 2xp Lores   Location Riverfall: Layout Location: Kendoka Sasaran   Profession Combat: Every Joint is a Weakness Combat: Don't Let the Enemy Recover Combat: Precision and Discipline Copying is a Job Lynx: A Copyist Copying: Pen Knife Spotting a Thief Defending a Thief Only Act on a Crime After It's Occurred Evantia: Recognizing When an Opponent is More Skilled Naginata: Parry Against a Spear Disarming a Spear Naginata: Rapid Flurry Unarmed Combat: Roundhouse Kick Observation: Reading Body Language   People Hirem's Story Hirem's Brand of Faith Hirem's Challenge Lynx: A Copyist Lynx: No Last Name Lynx: Interested in Leth Jek Knows Flowers Jek is the patient brother Alyra: An Ethaefal Alyra: Once With Syna Alaia: Works at the Gilia   Divinity God: Yahal What Wysar Wants Copying: Pen Knife Leth's Story   Races Ethaefal: Have Horns Ethaefal: Fall Through a Hole in the Ukalas Ethaefal: With Syna or Leth   History Riverfall History Valterrian: Plunged the World Into Darkness Spring 1st: Moon Turns Red   Miscellaneous Philosophy: The Language of Weaponry Plant: Mooneyes Plant: Rose Fruit: Rose Hips Difference Between Creative Writing and Copying Dealing with nuisances Talking to a woman

[Ashar]

Current Total: 189gm Totals Transactions 100gm Starting Package (+100gm) 80gm Naginata (-20gm) 35gm Lamellar Armor (-45gm) 25gm Leather Armor (-10gm) 15gm Practice Dummy, Simple (-10gm) 10gm Gauntlets, Studded (-5gm) 8.8gm Dyed Trousers (-1.2gm) 7.3gm Damasked Tunic (-1.5gm) 7gm Shoes (-3sm) 4gm Engraved Silver Bracelet (-3gm) 459gm Summer Pay (+455gm) 324gm Summer Expenses (-135gm) 189gm Autumn Expenses (-135gm)   On Person 1 Waterskin Naginata   Backpack usually in trunk 1 set of Toiletries (comb, brush, razor, soap) Food for a week 1 eating knife Flint & Steel   Trunk   Garments Daily Outfit Armor Nice Outfit Simple shirt Leather armor Damasked tunic Simple pants Lamellar (worn over armor) Dyed trousers Simple undergarments Studded gauntlets Shoes Simple coat Simple boots Heirloom - In Times of Trouble Ashar's mother was an Ephyrian writer from Ahnatep and wrote much material in her lifetime. Plays, poetry, short stories and novels are among her many works, though most of them were written before her arrival in Riverfall, meaning that they are in Arumenic rather than Common or Tukant. Before her death she began teaching Ashar Arumenic, but her life was cut short due to lingering implications of her childbirth. Upon her death, the majority of her work was already published. Ashar's father received all her unfinished work, of which there was much and all of which he intends to complete. As for Ashar, he received one of his mother's favorite books that she wrote, specifically the original copy that she'd then used to copy and sell it. There is a foreword in Arumenic that he cannot understand, but hopes to someday.

[Ashar]

Ashar has a one room Cora Apartment in the complex along with many others of his family. Furniture Bunk Chest Small table Chair Hearth Jenar Rhiad Akalak, Male 63rd of Winter, 415 AV Ashar's father and avid writer. Not well-known, but he does have some people who take notice of his works. Currently working on finishing all of the projects Ashar's mother left behind. Unarmed Combat 20 Writing 30 Jedion Rhiad Akalak, Male 71st of Winter, 382 AV Ashar's uncle and the one who taught him most of what he knows about unarmed combat. Jedion is not much older than his brother, relatively, being only a few 33 years older. Unarmed Combat 40 Teaching 10

[Ashar]

Evantia First mark Induction : Ashar 78th of Spring, 511AV Riverfall Ashar's daily schedule was mundane by most standards, but it was fulfilling and definitely not wasteful. Every morning, after a due sanitary cleansing and morning meal, he'd head out for either the Tuvya or Kendoka Sasaran and train until about noon. Then he would eat, take an afternoon patrol, then return to the Sasarans until the sun had set and it was time to end the day. Routine it was, very much so, but not a moment of time was wasted. The only discrepancies were the days during which Jek was in control, which were few and far between. Well, those used to be the only discrepancies, for today his daily schedule was interrupted by something he considered strange. One of the squad leaders of the Cavalry Kuvay'Nas had come to find him on his way to the Tuvya Sasaran, something that had not happened for all of the nearly two seasons he had been part of the branch. Whilst he had expected to be inducted into a squad by now, Ashar had no particular complaints about his current status and sought to real recognition from the leaders he barely knew. The exchange was short, and it ended up being a rather insistent request to accompany him on a particular patrol. Of course, Ashar agreed, and together - alone, surprisingly - they had set out on a meandering walk around Riverfall. And so here they were, two Akalaks in relative silence riding through the loud streets of the city. Ashar would have much preferred riding out in the Sea of Grass, for even though the silence would have been debilitating out there at least there would be some small promise of excitement. However, he knew better than to go against a direct superior. Perhaps he would be lucky and a brawl would break out. Once they'd fetched their horses and mounted, they set out through the first tier in silence. Ashar didn't have much to talk about, and apparently neither did his superior. Usually at about this time the collection of Kavran would find something to banter about, some commonality in which they could all share in and laugh at. In this situation, however, Ashar wasn't quite sure how to open up a conversation. It was the first time in a long time he was actually reluctant to do... just about anything. Why do you suppose he asked for us? Jek asked. This was one of his days in which he was merely a spectator, one of many. Though he wasn't quite happy with being the secondary soul of the two, he was content enough to not cause conflict with his light brother. Ashar, for his own part, was darting quick glances to the squad leader he was accompanying, eyeing him in a mixture of wariness and curiosity. They were going at a steady trot, the two Kavran, a calm spot within the hectic stream of the city street. People all around them with either rushing to where they needed to be or leisurely strolling along the slanted roads between the first and second tiers, admiring the view and looking around the various establishment in the hopes of being sidetracked for some time. I haven't the faintest idea - why would I? You're the one that overthinks things, you tell me, Ashar almost shouted, though his edginess wasn’t from Jek’s interference surprisingly. For the first time in a long time, Ashar was genuinely nervous. Well, under normal circumstances I would say that being contacted by a squad leader on a private basis could only logically mean being inducted into their squad, Jek mused, regarding the man in question through their eyes. I've never heard of taking a private patrol with one, though. That's a new one for me. Suddenly, the squad leader spoke, startling slightly both Ashar and Jek. It was a simple and relevant question, but surprising in the preceding silence. His voice was loud without being overly so, and carried well to the squadless Kavran despite all the people around. Perhaps it was a skill that came along with being a leader. "Tell me, Ashar, why did you join the Kuvay'Nas?" For a moment, Ashar just sat on his horse in silence, somewhat uncomprehending. No one had asked that question before, let alone a squad leader. How was he supposed to respond? An interview is also a new one, he mused Well? Answer him. Shaken out of his strange trance by his dark brother's words, Ashar turned his gaze out to the street, seeing two young Akalaks boy laughing and chasing each other past, then past them and onto the vast Suvan Sea. It was an amazing view to be sure, but for now its only purpose for Ashar was to serve as an excuse for not looking directly at the leader. Which seemed fine, for the leader too was not looking at Ashar while he talked. "I joined to protect Riverfall and her citizens from the dangers of the world beyond its walls. I try to make the Kabrin Road safe, at least close to Riverfall, and ensure that people can commute to the gem mines without fear of being mauled by a glassbeak." The squad leader clucked his tongue and shook his head, causing Ashar to turn toward him curiously. "Yes, yes, protecting Riverfall out of duty, giving back to the city, so on and so forth. That universal and unfailing reason given to any starry-eyed soul who wishes to join the military of the city." He looked over to Ashar finally, and when their eyes met both Ashar and Jek felt oddly humbled. Something about the man before them gave him an aura of authority and confidence. Yet there was nothing condescending about the man, nor really offended at Ashar’s apparent lack of honesty. "Now, for what reason did you join the Kuvay'Nas? Particularly the mounted branch, if you are capable of articulating your feelings to tha tpoint. I asked not why people should join, I asked why you joined." Well, he saw through that rather easily, Jek mused. He was only half talking to his light brother, the rest of him was focused on this Kavran leader before them. Being a spectator allowed him to analyze things more deeply than Ashar (not that Ashar would anyway), and Jek found the Akalak before them fascinating. Personally seeking out an individual Kavran and asking them questions while out on a private patrol wasn't standard fare. Opening his mouth, Ashar’s first instinct was to deny it all. Then he thought it better not to argue against a leader. He looked out ahead of him down the cliffs of Riverfall, this time to collect himself. "I suppose because it fit me well," he began, preparing to launch into an extended explanation. He looked to his superior, who made a gesture to go ahead. Taking a deep breath, Ashar began to think deeply and speak his thoughts. Color me surprised, thought Jek. "When I first joined, I did not consider myself overly ambitious. I did wish to join one of the branches and become a dedicated Kavran, but back in my early volunteer days I never had any plans beyond that. No, when I first joined it was simply for the thrill of being in conflict, the high when I fight. That’s why the Cavalry Kuvay’Nas was so appealing to me, because out there I am allowed to fight slavers and glassbeaks and other dangers. It was an adrenal addiction that cannot be captured by anything else. But now..." In an uncharacteristic moment of introversion, Ashar looked down at the pole of his naginata, which rested on top of the horse’s back with his hands on either end to stabilize it, and ran his fingers across it. "Now, I do have ambition. I do not seek to replace any of my superiors, for they have done no wrong. Instead, I wish to push myself to be the best I can, to truly dedicate myself to my own growth through fighting. I do look forward to each and every confrontation, as it remains thrilling to be in a difficult spot of danger, but I no longer actively search for such danger purely for its own sake. Each instance is a challenge, and each challenge is an opportunity to grow. And I suppose my ambition is to see how far I can push myself." There was a moment of silence between the three, during which neither Ashar nor Jek nor the squad leader said anything. The ambient sounds of the crowd remained, but it did not register on any level beyond white noise. Impressive, Jek thought to his light brother. I wasn't aware you were that thoughtful, let alone capable of expressing it a way that makes any sense. Perhaps your are not as narrow-minded and bestially instinctive as I had thought Kudos to you. In all honesty, despite Jek's semi-mocking praise, he was genuinely impressed with Ashar. Of course, he knew Ashar inside and out, so he wasn't quite surprised by what had been said. It was a good goal, and Jek was happy that Ashar had something to strive for. At least he wouldn’t be bored. It took a while for Ashar to lift his gaze from his weapon to the squad leader, a little unsure of what the reaction would be. As it turned out, there was no reaction as of yet. The leader was still looking forward down the road, his eyes looking seemingly at nothing at all and just blankly staring ahead. It could be that he was digesting what Ashar had said, but for some reason that seemed unlikely. There was the hint of a smile on his face, and his eyes were distant if not glazed over. The lack of a vocal response made Ashar feel incredibly awkward, a feeling from his adolescence he was hoping not to return to. Just as the young Kavran was about to say something to break the dreaded silence, the squad leader turned and looked directly at him. Ashar’s lips froze, and the two exchanged a long look. Then he spoke. "In every action we perform, there is the opportunity for discipline," the squad leader told Ashar. Though he was no in control, and hardly was, Jek also was getting the strangest feeling that the squad leader was talking to him as well, though he had never once spoken to this man. Who was this, he wondered? The Akalak turned to look back at the road before him, unfreezing Ashar from his startled state. A silent sigh was released, though quickly he regained his composure. "There is no such thing as an uncontrollable response," the squad leader continued. "Every judgement our mind makes is informed by many things. Instinct, personal nature, and observed details all have a say in what dictates our reactions. These things and many more are included in the assessment our mind makes about any given situation, factors that influence our response to the world. But, no matter how overwhelming, these factors will never have the power to control us. That is, unless we give it to them." Though he had not said much, the Akalak before them had given both Ashar and Jek much to chew on. Yet he spoke of such broad concepts, such large ideas that it was difficult to digest entirely what he was saying. Snap judgements? The reactions we have? All were left up to us? Instinct was a body’s natural reaction to a sudden development was it not? How was it possible to control that completely, to even suppress it? If one saw a blade arcing towards them or an arrow flying through the air in their direction, what could they really resist the instinct to duck? If they were able to, would they? Also, instincts were developed for a reason. Either coded into their survivalist nature or developed as a result of training or other conditioning, instincts were ingrained for the benefit of the recipient. Why would one turn away the boon of instinct? Why would one reject the years, then decades of training that one had subjected themselves to? It would not only be a waste, it would be counterintuitive for both survival and practice. However, what if one could overcome instinct? What would that mean? What if, when an arrow was shot toward a target, that the target could resist the urge to move and watch it sail by where otherwise he might have moved into its path? Perhaps that would indeed be very useful. But in that case, how would one know the path of the arrow? How could one be sure that the arrow would not hit them where they stood, and that moving out of the way could very well save their life rather than end it? No one can think that fast. Would that be up to more instinct? But what if one could determine the path of the arrow, and then resist the urge to move? It’s not as if instinct were entirely correct all the time, for every person ever. If it were, then there would be no need to train one’s survival skills, because instinct would simply take over and keep the body alive. There would be no need to study the texts on the intricacies of writing, for the author would feel when and where to write what. There would be no need to practice any craft because the result would feel right. Even masters make mistakes. Training instead instilled habits into the one who practiced, giving them not instincts but actions they could choose to take. Every time Ashar moved to block an incoming strike or spun his weapon to attack an exposed body part, he was not doing it out of instinct. Training had given him the knowledge and ability to strike when he chose to, not when his body decided it felt right. Training instilled habits, but habits could be ignored. And what were instincts but the habits inherited from our predecessors? Instincts were urges to perform a habit, but one can always resist an urge. But to fall prey to those urges is to lose all self-control, and then there is no resisting. That is when we let our habits, innate and acquired, govern our every action. That is when we lose agency in our own lives. That is when we become no better than animals. "You understand what I am saying," said the squad leader, looking at them both. Ashar turned back to face the leader, their gazes meeting, and now he felt no awkwardness. In fact, the comfort of understanding made him feel at ease, the feeling that he could trust this man before him. "Some let their urges govern their actions, letting instinct drown out reason, and their discipline vanishes. They become a slave to their desires, rather than the master. That is the difference between ambition and dreams. People strive towards one, and stumble towards the other." Both Ashar and Jek were smiling, listening to their superior with newfound interest, when shouts pulled their attention toward a ruckus happening further down the street. Their conversation coupled with the large amount of time required for Ashar and Jek to digest their superiors words, wise as they were, had taken them all the way from the top to the bottom of the second tier, near the docks of the third tier. The abundance of alcohol as well as the myriad of cultures and personalities constantly mingling by the docks meant that it was inevitably less orderly than the first tier, where the official structures and the governtment’s influence stood watch. While most of the time it meant plenty of merriment and knocking heads in competitive fun, at times it meant the less amusing side of competition reared its ugly head in the form of brawls and heated arguments. People would lose control of themselves, and, sometimes, fists would fly. Just as they were now. Up ahead of the two Kavran, farther down the road, were two young Akalak males duking it out right in the middle of a crowd, one green and one red. Most of the passerby did their best to avoid the scuffle, but there were many - far too many - who stopped and encouraged them. Neither of them were armed, but the power behind their punches would eventually leave some pretty nasty bruises. Let’s just be thankful that neither of them are taking this seriously, else we’d be seeing broken arms and legs by now, Jek thought, though he wasn’t really serious about it. More likely the reason neither had taken the step further to actually injuring the other and stopping the fight for good was because both were too caught up in the immediate gratification of feeling someone’s skin against their fist. Ashar simply shook his head. There was a time not too long ago where one of those brawlers might have been him, when he was their age. Neither looked particularly old - they couldn’t have been more than a few years out of the Rite of Trial. "Well, this is why we’re here, I suppose," he mused aloud unenthusiastically. The squad leader sighed and nodded, leaning back in his saddle. "Doesn’t make it any less aggravating. It’s unfortunate to see the sons of Wysar lack so greatly the quality which he champions. They do it in an attempt to impress the ladies, but all who seem impressed are each other." Both Kavran took a moment, regarding the unsightly scene and shaking their heads. "Would you mind taking care of this? I’ve had a long day, and anyway I’m interested in seeing how you handle it." "Sure thing, sir," Ashar answered, sliding out of his saddle and bracing his feet on the ground, resting the butt of his naginata against the paved road. He instructed his horse to remain and approached the fight, which was developing into a rather nasty no-holds-barred kind of brawl. Ashar couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw teeth. Gently forcing his way through the growing audience, he stepped into the small ring that encircled the two young Akalaks and looked between them. One was indeed missing a tooth, and the other seemed to be developing a black eye from the experience. Just how long have these two been going at it? Jek wondered. "That’s enough," Ashar said forcefully, directing his words at the two brawlers. Neither paid attention, their fists up and the arms swinging. He needed to register before he could do anything. So he tried again, planting his naginata against the ground and reaching forward with his left hand. "Knock it off, that’s enough," he repeated, his left hand grabbing the shoulder of the green Akalak and trying to pull him aside. As soon as his hand left the green Akalak’s shoulder, however, the Akalak in question simply threw a punch with that same arm that landed on the red Akalak’s rib, prompting a response. This isn’t working, Jek noted helpfully. Grunting from frustration, Ashar looked around the small bur growing number of spectators interested in the brawl taking place. They were all as ignorant of him as the two fighters. It was frustrating. Sighing greatly, he spun his naginata around a couple times, bringing the butt of the weapon up between the two combatantswhich knocked both of them away from each other. Then, before they could jump back to bruising each other, Ashar twirled the naginata once and brought the blade down sharply on the road between them, as if cutting a solid line through the air that neither would cross. The resulting clang wasn’t deafening, but it was loud enough to attract attention and the sound of an actual weapon was enough to draw everyone’s attention. Whereas before Ashar was ignored, he was now the center of attention, for better or worse as the two angry faces of the young Akalaks bore into him. "Hey!" Ashar shouted testily. "I said that’s enough." Well, you got them to stop at least, for now, Jek commented helpfully once more. Now let’s see if you can stop them from beating each other up without beating them up yourself. Yeah. Good luck with that. "I don’t know what’s going on here, and I don’t care," Ashar continued, running his gaze firt between the two combatants and then through the rest of the crowd. It was clear that the two hot-headed Akalaks weren’t about to just let it go, but most of the people gathered looked suitably ashamed for encouraging the brawl. "Fighting like this does not happen outside the Tuvya Sasaran. There is a large main hall for all of you to watch if you so please, but you can’t do it here on the streets. Duels are welcome, but fights of fancy in the middle of the road are not." "This-" shouted the red Akalak, who looked to have received the worse of the two, as he pointed as his opponent. "This petcher right here thought it would be funny to not only not give me back what was mine but also spill my drink all over me in front of the entire tavern!" It was true that his shirt and clothes looked wet, but the red Akalak was mistaken if he thought that Ashar gave a shyke. "I won that petching dagger fair and square at the Tuvya!" the green one shouted back, taking a step toward the outraged red Akalak. Both looked absolutely furious, and were only paying minimal attention to Ashar. "That was five days ago! Suddenly you decided it wasn’t fair and asked for it back without reason. You wouldn’t shut up and you were getting heated, so I thought that drink you ordered would cool you down some." “You cheated in that duel! There was no way-” the red Akalak accused back, taking his own step forward. Ashar saw that the brawl was about to recommence, and moved forward to stop it, but just as he was about to speak the green one interrupted. "You said there was-" The metallic clang that resounded on the ground interrupted both of them. "Hey!" Ashar shouted again, more forcefully this time. Both combatants looked at him once more, their eyes hot with rage. He returned each of the glares with his own hard, unwavering stare. "This is what the Tuvya is for, or feel free to take it to the Gideon Arena if you’re pissed off enough. I don’t care what started, I only care that this stops now. Both of you better-" "Oh shut up!" shouted the red Akalak, his intense gaze growing ever fiercer. "Just shut the petch up!" Ashar was genuinely shocked. For a moment he was speechless, his face still folded into his glaring frown. Then he found two words that fit his mood. "Excuse me?" "Just shut up and petch off, who are you to tell us to stop?" the red Akalak spat. The green one wasn’t joining him, but he was happy to let his opponent focus somewhere else. "You and your damn Kuvay’Nas, you petching Kavran. No one needs you! This city, it doesn’t need you! Every Akalak in the entire petching city knows how to petching fight! If any dumbass Zith or slavers try to raid us, they’ll get their asses handed to them! All the Kuvay’Nas is for is to give you petchers who want to do nothing but fight somewhere to put yourselves where you don’t offend the rest of the city. It’s a place for people who don’t know what to do, so all they do is fight. At least I have an art I’m good at. But you! You’ve got petching nothing!" This wasn’t good. Though unkowingly, this runt was pressing all the right buttons on Ashar to get him worked up (clearly this was a runt, from the amount of times he swore in a single sentence). And when Ashar got worked up, with a weapon in his hand, it was harder to get him to stop than just smacking the ground a couple times. Hey, Ashar, just hit this guy unconscious and get out of here. He’s not worth getting angr- "You! You, you..." the red Akalak continued, laughing brokenly, as much as Jek willed him to just shut up. "You petching Kavran and your petching militia, you do nothing but fight and fight for its own sake, day and night, that’s all you do, all your petching lives amount to. And yet you hold yourselves over the rest of us like you’re somehow petching better, like I should be petching impressed by how much violence you bring! You’re petching telling us to go to the Tuvya? How often do you go petching go there? How much petching fighting do you do each day, and how much of that is done at the Tuvya petching Sasaran?" At least he was getting things wrong now, but that didn’t help that Ashar was already raging silently. He wasn’t even thinking it, Jek could just feel the anger rolling off of him in waves. The end of the naginata was still resting on the ground, but Ashar’s grip was tightening. Let it go, brother, he’s not worth it, he tried, but he wasn’t sure whether it was working. "Justice? There’s no petching justice for you petching animals, there’s just fighting and violence and petching more of it! Your justice comes from your petching fists, and knocking out some random passerby is you petcher’s idea of a job well petching done." The runt wasn’t stopping, and in fact took a few steps toward Ashar as he raged, his arms lifting and fists clenching. "You want justice? You want petching justice? I’ll give you some of your own, you petching petcher!" For all the runt’s rage and seething anger, his wild punch was the most obvious in the entirety of Mizahar. A child could have seen it coming, and probably would have been able to avoid it as well. But Ashar did not move to avoid it, and Jek watched through their eyes as the roundhouse grew ever closer to their face. If Jek were able to, he would close his eyes. Then the punch was sailing behind their head, much to Jek’s surprise. A spin of the naginata brought the dull end of the polearm up and around to connect with the back of the balled red fist, knocking it off of its intended path and sending it wide behind its target. The red Akalak, who had put the entirety of his weight and force behind the strike, followed it through with no resistance and found himself stumbling forward. He nearly tripped over his own feet in doing so, stumbling to regain his balance. He turned around, ready to be enraged- The naginata swung up towards him, the bladed end this time, and the red Akalak’s eyes widened in shock as he stumbled once more to get out of its path. The attack was painfully slow, and was obviously never meant to connect anyway, but the wild panic of a sharp blade approaching his head sent the runt reeling backwards on the backs of his heels. The crowd had cleared room in the direction that he was going in, moving quickly out of the way of his stumbles and trips as he danced frantically away from the blade that hounded after him. The saber-like end of the naginata sailed through the air horizontally, and the red Akalak ducked haphazardly in a way that set him off balance, only for the naginata to continued its loop around and toward his ankles, forcing him to hop back and land awkwardly. Then, as the naginata came back down, it aimed right at the red Akalak’s left side and he was forced to go on one foot in a last-ditch attempt to avoid getting a nasty cut on his shoulder. Finally, the naginata completed its lap and came back at him horizontally once more, forcing the runt to lean his neck backwards to avoid having his head severed. On only one foot and with all of his weight on that single heel, the red Akalak went tumbling backwards onto his hindquarters and landed with a thud, forcing from him a grunt and a startled shriek. He leaned backwards on his hands, still in a panic, looking up at the Kavran who’d made him dance like a puppet. Ashar put the butt of the naginata against the road again, looking down at the red Akalak. Though he had managed to execute the maneuvers with a modicum of restraint, the barely-controlled rage in his glare reassured Jek that he was still angry at what the runt had said. Going from panicked to terrified, the red Akalak was two seconds from bolting. "Get out of here," Ashar hissed. For a while, no one reacted. Then the red Akalak’s frowning glare was back, and his fists clenched as he stood up. However, rather than go back to spouting off about the Kuvay’Nas again, he just huffed angrily and stormed away, probably deciding it was best not to try the patience of a warrior who was both more coordinated than him and had a weapon. There was no cheer or any other fantastical response from the crowd, but there were a few murmurs and nods of approval as Ashar returned to his horse, his fists clenching and unclenching. By the time he had returned to the same spot, the crowd had all but entirely dispersed, and the squad leader was smiling slightly at him. "That could have gone better," he said with a grin, "but I’m impressed that you managed to send him off without even hitting him. Most lads like that need a good whopping to return them to their senses." "He certainly deserved a mighty fine whopping," Ashar replied, taking deep breaths at Jek’s advice. "However, if I’d started something, I don’t think I’d have been able to stop. It probably would have just devolved into another brawl, me dropping the weapon and just teaching a lesson with my fists. And I really don’t have the itch for that today." He finished the exercise Jek put him through and hooked the naginata back on his saddle, rolling his shoulders to relieve the tension in them. "Besides, that really is what the Tuvya is for. I’m going there later today, so if I do get the itch I’ll just take it out on some poor sap looking to train." Still smiling, the squad leader nodded sagely with approval. He brought his hand up to his face and cupped his chin for a chime, thinking deeply. Then he smiled again and brought both his hands to the reins. "Well, I think it’s safe then. The reasoning is there, and you’ve got Jek to bring you back if you start to lose it. You should listen to him a bit more, he’s the perfect person to offer restraint to your challenge-seeking ambition." Ashar nodded, thinking it through. Then, Jek brought something up. Erm, Ashar? he asked, a little confused. You never told him my name. Ashar was surprised too, but then the realization hit them both like a rampaging glassbeak. The Akalak before them only smiled warmly. "Not everyone, not even every Akalak, understands the true nature of discipline. It does indeed mean resisting the urge to remain inactive, but it also means resisting the urge to get carried away. Your self-restraint just now proves you understand the value of discipline, but your admission that, had you started, you would not have been able to control yourself shows that you understand you have room to learn. I think that’s worthy of some form of recognition, don’t you think?" Ashar looked up at him uncertainly. "But are you sure about my worthiness, milord? Only a year ago I would have joined the brawl myself, rather than stopped it." It worried Ashar when the god started laughing, but he quickly calmed down and made reassuring gestures at the Kavran. "Forgive me, I always find the innocence of youth amusing - in a good way, of course. You are correct, but I also would not have sought you out a year ago. You are young and hotheaded, but you are growing. More importantly, you are growing into a disciplined warrior, of which there are never enough. You could have become any kind of warrior you so wished: uncontrolled and with berserk rage or sadistic and dishonorable. It truly is worthy of note you chose the path that best honors me." "But I have never worshipped before, my irrereverence up until now-" Ashar, shut up! Stop protesting and just accept this honor! Oh man, and really what an honor it is, what an honor... "Oh come now," he said dismissively. "Do you think every devout follower of mine began that way? And likewise, do you think every worshipping zealot receives my favor? You may not have offered me prayer as of yet beyond those that were obligatory to your family, but I see in you the capacity to do so. It is up to you whether you choose to fulfill this capacity or simply accept my gift at its most token." Now finished, he returned to that warm and understanding smile, reaching out with one hand in Ashar’s direction. "Now unless you have any more objections, I believe it is about time I honored you as you have honored me thus far." The moment the god reached out his hand, Ashar and Jek both felt a growing warmth originating from one spot on their shoulder. It started off as a miniscule sensation, but grew into a relaxing cushion of comfort that enveloped the skin from the base of their neck to the edge of the shoulder and down some of the shoulder blade. It was relatively small, but it had with it all the relieving of tension a muscle massage would bring. As a matter of fact, that’s exactly what it felt like. Rather than an epiphany of ability or some other such sudden revalation like either of them had heard, the twin souls felt as if a new muscle had been brought to their attention, flexing itself independantly from the rest to alert the two to its presence. It felt good, like a glove had been removed from one patch of skin that had been kept there since birth, one that blocked out all sensation, and now it could feel and flex. Though the actual gnosis had nothing to do with the physical location it was placed, it still felt good to the two of them to roll the shoulder a bit. They brought a hand to the shoulder, and though they could feel no protrusion or indentation they knew it was there. "There, it is done," said Wysar, bringing his hand back to the reins. Now his smile was more than warm and comforting. It was understanding, it was hopeful. It was almost fatherly. "Thank you, milord," Ashar said, bowing. Thank you for this wondrous gift, lord Wysar. It will not be misused. "I know it won’t, because I know you two from before you were born. Please believe me when I say that you are both equally and wholly worthy of carrying this gift, despite what you may think. I have high hopes for you both, and I do not expect that I will be disappointed." Wysar lifted the reins of his horse and steered his horse around, directing it back up the cliffs of Riverfall and toward the first tier. Once more he turned to face the two and smiled his biggest yet, nodding down at the Kavran and the scholar. "Good luck, my sons. May you both learn to use it well." Then, with a crack of the reins, the god was off, riding through the streets of Riverfall and back to wherever it was Wysar spent his time; the city, the Ulkalas, or gods knew where else. The two watched after him for a moment, still reeling from what happened. Ashar lifted a hand to their shoulder. So, are you going to listen to him, our god and lord of Riverfall? asked Jek jokingly, the smile obvious in his voice. Will you pay more attention to what I have to say? Letting the hand fall back to their side, Ashar smiled as he turned over to mount his horse, steering it as well back towards the first tier. I’ll think about it.