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| A Lesson in the Art of Secrecy; Atn: Ildeus | |
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| Topic Started: Nov 2 2007, 09:59 PM (303 Views) | |
| Evei Atrium | Nov 2 2007, 09:59 PM Post #1 |
Aes Sedai of the Red Shen
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Evei almost smiled as she nimbly slid through the crack the open door made and into the mess hall. It was almost deserted, which was a cause for celebration itself. The other cause was the sight of food arranged on the sideboard. The afternoon meal was usually cold foods, with only a few heated items, so later on in the afternoon the kitchen workers simply laid out the extra food on the sideboard. With her mouth watering, Evei quickly approached the sideboard laden with food and eagerly snatched a plate. Briskly, Evei filled her plate with sausage, a few slabs of bread, chunks of cheese, and a bit of fruit. It was a simple fare, as it usually was, but Evei was too hungry to care. She carried the plate to an almost empty table and sat down. With a quick nod of hello to the people she knew, Evei tucked into her meal. Her muscles protested as she shifted on the uncomfortable bench. Evei hid her wince behind a curtain of her hair and she stuffed a piece of sausage into her mouth. The extra chores she had taken on to strengthen her muscles had caused her stomach to almost eat itself, as well as her body to ache around the clock. If I wasn’t so determined, I’d give up and dedicate my life to pitying recruits. She thought, for she was resolute in her wish to learn to fight. Novices weren’t allowed to take weapons classes, but that hadn’t hindered Evei. It had taken quite a bit of observation at the practice yards to select a teacher who would be willing to teach her without a price from the ranks of recruits. Ildeus, the recruit she had chosen, was a savage, former Tuatha’an. He was the sort to enjoy teaching her just because he was corrupting her Tuatha’an values and dragging her away from her previous life. Not that I haven’t done the same to myself. Evei mused, rather wryly, as she swallowed a bit of sausage. It had taken a lot of courage of Evei’s part to approach Ildeus. He was an intimidating man, and a brutal one. Evei had viewed that personality trait by watching him on the practice field, but she didn’t fault him for it. The type of vicious fighting that Ildeus employed was the type she wished to master, for she was not as strong in the One Power as most Aes Sedai. To be a successful Red, Evei knew that she would have to make up for that lack of strength. And so she enlisted Ildeus’ help, for the recruit was rather amused by her plight. There was no definite way to study weapons, however, as it was forbidden by the White Tower. Instead, Evei frequented the practice yards and learned the forms that Ildeus purposefully repeated while she scrutinized the form. It was difficult to perform the same feats in her small room, even more so because of her roommate. However, it was easy enough for Evei to work around the other woman's schedule. It took a bit of nagging to find out her roommate's chore and lesson schedule, but Evei managed to pull it out of the other woman. After that, it was a matter of practicing while her roommate was out. Still, it was difficult for Evei to know if she completed the forms Ildeus signified to her correctly. There was hardly a way for Evei to demonstrate what she had practiced to him, though she studied her problem at every spare moment. It was also difficult to conduct Evei’s training in secret, but she and Ildeus had worked to create a coded cipher made of symbols and tapping to converse about her progress and Ildeus’ further plans. Through these coded conversations, Ildeus guided Evei through the obstacles she encountered. When she formed calluses on her hands from knife work with the blade she had filched from the kitchen, he gave her a pot of salve to apply to her hands. When she had especial difficult on one of the forms, Ildeus repeated it a few more times for her at the practice yard. In this way, Evei had learned in secrecy. In truth, it wasn’t quite about being able to fight proficiently. It regarded having knowledge to fall back on and skills to hone when she was Aes Sedai; when she wouldn’t have to conduct herself with caution. |
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Evei Atrium + Air Elementalism - Milking Tears - Inverting Weaves | |
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| Ildeus Sharshain | Nov 13 2007, 10:43 PM Post #2 |
Youngling
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In Ildeus' mind the crowds parted just for him, he was the very centre of his world, the alpha and the omega. Humility was not a virtue with him, nor a sin in his world, it simply never existed. Those who would try and stop him, would not be able to stop anyone ever again after their inevitable failures, or so the recruit's ego preened. Long waves of golden-red hair spilled off his pallid pate in a myriad rivers: skein; inter-woven into a complex pattern that invoked the sense-imagery of a spider's web. That was such an oddity in itself, that any recruit would bother in such an elaborate waste of time decorating themselves, but any who thought as such were obviously worthless cur with no iconic sense of self, within Ildeus' eyes at least. His narcissism was all but a compulsion to keep himself clean, to keep himself pure of the taint of the common rabble and their daily mediocrity. Of course Ildeus' ideals of clean varied to others, he saw the visceral fluids and humours of the human bodies as a purity, best exposed to the wonders of the elements. In other words, blood was a pure and clean thing; the blood of his enemies brilliantly staining his practice blades was the utmost within the poetry of violence. It was an addicting thing, that colour scheme of silver and crimson appealed to him deeply and Ildeus' sadism was selectively whetted through the thought of it; he did things in ways that were often only psychologically gratifying to one such of his twisted disposition, and meaning little, if nothing, to everyone else. So it was that the recruit walked with a definite dignity and perpetual arrogance within his stride; Ildeus even realised that most would misinterpret it as the pop and pageantry of a strutting peacock, such as noble broodlings were often fans of displaying. However, Ildeus was no noble, neither by status or by orientation. Ildeus disliked nobles much in the way he disliked so many other things, perhaps their elitist arrogance was an uncomfortable mirror for the self-serving recruit... then again, Ildeus did not always have reasons for what he did or felt, at least no rational ones, anyway; rational outside of his own twisted imaginings that is. He was here in this public feeding trough, this nexus of filth and disease spawned by the fetid commonality. His face was a porcelain mask of scathing indifference, hot iron hiding behind that porcelain. Ildeus knew when to indulge his more perverse and darker natures, and when to abstain. A predator's wisdom in adapting to the system and putting off the kill for a more convenient time. Much in the way a leopard might ignore the healthy and strong prey, in favour of the chance that a weaker and more susceptible target might present itself for the slaughter. Looking at these people now through veiled eyes, he measured them, taking their worth as it met up against his warped scale. It was then that a mantra, of his predecessor's ofttimes cohort and rival, Elwyn Mordale, came to him. Each generation has cried out for a new world, but has built the same old one, corrupt and weak. But the new world shall come to pass, the world will be purged of these blighted fools. Take the food from their mouths. Turn their own weapons against them...... Exterminate them! A ghost of a grimace's grin brushed the edges of the recruit's lips and nothing more. The old man had been a rampant misanthrope and socipathic philosopher. He and Ildeus had gotten on famously, that was before the man attempted to stab Mcthadius and rob him while he slept. His attempt failed, and he barely escaped with his life after that. If not for Elwyn having the foresight to lame every mount but one, his, he would likely have been run down as he fled the camp. However, he did escape, and that wiry old bastard was still probably playing the sick old traveller along the White Bridge highway. Elwyn Mordale came to travellers' camps feigning as a sick old man in the night, trying to make it to White Bridge for hope of treatment; and if the travelers took him into their camp out of sympathy, they would then wake up dead the next morning, with their throats slit and their valuables and transportation nicked. The rest of them and their possessions were usually burned or buried, Elwyn was never as fragile as he seemed. Ildeus suspected a high number of disappearances along that stretch of highway could be laid at the wily bastard's feet. If Ildeus hadn't also been slated to die with his mentor over the spoils of a job, when they met up with Elwyn one night, Ildeus wouldn't have said anything when the old man moved over to Mcthadius' sleeping form to off the guy. It would have meant a bigger share for Ildeus after all, had Mcthadius perished. If only Elwyn wasn't so greedy in his killing, and thus forcing Ildeus to raise the alarm. Still, the past was passed. As to the future, well Ildeus had his own people to mentor, his own people to ensnare, and his own people to corrupt for the sake of corruption, personal amusement, and little else. Taking a tray full of grievous gruel, or whatever slop they called this standard meal, (which most were quite content with, but of which Ildeus still found a reason to label substandard,) he sat down at a seemingly random table. Only chosen because it was one of the closest and most empty, an optimal combination of these two factors. Ildeus sat neither too far nor too close to the other occupant. Appearing to absently pick at this meal that visibly displeased him, (which with Ildeus seemed to be consistent with every meal,) a full eleven minutes slipped away without a glance. Then within another three minutes, his idle fidgeting due to dissatisfaction, or perhaps boredom, took on an undiscernible order. Almost like a hybridised form of pictography and tapping code. Each pictograph a short statement, each form of tapping, in its creation, denoting the context with which it was given. Being both a code and cypher, several layers of cyphers in fact, it was impossible to logically discern the meaning unless you had been educated upon the specific definition of the coded pictograms. Interpreting it was aided by the fact, that the process was committed to mnemonics; learn those and the process, as well as what the pictograms represented, and you could encrypt and decrypt it without a slateboard or reference material, it just took some real thinking. Ildeus had picked up the methodology for creating such means of communication from his dead boss, as with most other useful skills and tricks that supplemented his arsenal, and put him over the mean of most other recruits his peer in experience. Moreover, Ildeus never had to look at the other occupant of the table, a simply face-down spoon proved sufficient surveillance. A place like the Fused Towers were almost as sever as Ildeus with compulsions for sanitation, and so the utensils were well polished. That was something Ildeus would give them, they were very neat, if terrible cooks. Many others in the mess hall, even if not at peak capacity, still boasted quite a few in number, given the size of the dominopolis. Many others were exercising some forms of bored or idle behaviour, omnipresent in pretty much every gathering of reasonable size and similar nature. Some chewed nails, some played with hair, some crossed eyes, some hummed, some tapped or vibrated, and some made minor generic fidgets. His coded conversing was interspersed with random gestures which held no importance, and thus further obfuscated Ildeus' actions. The recruit appeared as just one of many others bored, nothing odd or out of place about that, (other than just being Ildeus himself, with even that being five years at convention here.) His random insertions of fidgeting were fluid with the actual ideograms, but if one had not been taught an assigned value to the gesture, then one was taught to merely disregard them. Ildeus' tapping was pantomimed, no sound associated his motions. The motions themselves, were shielded further by persons and tray, all so that only one at the other-occupant's-angle-of-vision would clearly see the pictograms. They translated as: <Any problems with the latest knife forms? If your body is worn from the exercises, space them out more chronometrically. Muscle memory of these inexact practices will only give you more to unlearn in the future.> Ildeus appeared unremarkable, as much as he ever did. |
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| Evei Atrium | Nov 27 2007, 06:46 PM Post #3 |
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Aes Sedai of the Red Shen
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Evei sighed as she broke off a bit of cheese and popped it into her mouth. She bit down, ignoring the slightly nauseating feeling of the cheddar squishing over her gums. The cheese was an unpleasant paste, but was food, and she was hungry. If only because I did a little knife work before lunch. She thought, almost satisfied with herself, as she bit off a hunk of bread and chewed. The food wasn’t quite as good as the food she had enjoyed as Tuatha’an, but because the sausage was new to her, Evei forgave the chefs. With a little sigh, she swallowed the bread, which wasn’t quite up to par with the dough that she had made for herself years ago. Perhaps it had just been the hard work that had made her bread taste so sweet to her, but the bread the Tower provided still couldn’t catch up to it. It doesn’t matter. She thought, annoyed with her slightly frivolous thoughts. Evei shoveled a bit more bread into her mouth, even as she caught sight of her teacher navigating through the tables. His red hair was pulled into an intricate style that must have taken hours to achieve. Evei bit back a little chuckle, knowing his hair was only a sign of his supreme vanity and idea of self worth. While Ildeus had an explosive personality of sadism and other associated traits, Evei found herself understanding him more and more. A bit of his personality must be rubbing off on me. She thought, not entirely displeased. While Ildeus intimidated her, she also found his personality interesting. Evei had yet to comprehend the scale on which he judged others against himself and yet always found himself the better and more sophisticated. His supreme cunning was something that she aspired to, even while his love of perverse arts repulsed her. Evei would have thought him a rather obvious darkfriend if she had not noticed his selfishness and ego. No man with Ildeus’ sense of self worth would be able to bow to anyone, not even the Dark One. His arrogance was something Evei knew she would never achieve, and she almost found herself envying him for a trait she would never possess, not even if she aspired for such a thing and worked for it. It was irrational, and she knew it, but Evei could not stop her silly jealousy over a personality she had no true desire to have. Ildeus had begun to symbolize the forbidden and unattainable to Evei, which only cultivated her craving to learn something from him, even if it was only a vicious style of fighting. She watched her teacher stroll down the isle between the tables by watching his reflection on her knife as she cut herself a piece of sausage. Sometimes Ildeus took it upon himself to sit near her and engage in a conversation by the means of their cipher, and sometimes he gave no indication to her that he knew she existed. For Evei, it was a matter of chance. She knew that it was only an extra duty to Ildeus, and it was easy to comprehend that it was not something that would benefit him in the future. In all ways, Evei was Ildeus’ charity case. Still, Evei didn’t mind a bit of begging if it moved her along. Oh, it was likely that Ildeus would pressure her for some sort of repayment beyond the amusement she doubtlessly gave him. Still, Evei doubted such a topic would arise until she was Aes Sedai and had a bit of power that he coveted. For now, the only motive Evei could see that would cause him to help her was the idea that he was corrupting a fellow Tuatha’an. The thought likely entertained him to no end. It was likely that he would push changes on her outside of teaching her weaponry, but Evei was sure that she could deal with such things. After all, she had given up the Way of the Leaf, so the only possible thing that Ildeus could attempt to wrench away from her was her memories of her family. Somehow, Evei doubted that he would make the time to commit to such an undertaking. She was slightly surprised when Ildeus sat down a few people down from her. Evei had not expected him to make contact with her, not the day after he had given her new forms to try. Perhaps he is wondering about my progress. She thought, vaguely amused. Evei waited patiently for him to make the first move as she ate, knowing that it was still possible that Ildeus had no wish to speak with her. Evei had no illusions about the interest Ildeus had for her, and considered herself lucky that he had not yet become bored with the game they played. Evei watched him carefully on the reflections on her utensils while she ate, and was rewarded several minutes later when Ildeus began to tap. She watched his movements carefully as she deciphered his words. Evei was proficient in the cipher that Ildeus had made, but not quite good enough to keep up with his quick movements. It was a few moments before she completely decoded his words. <Any problems with the latest knife forms? If your body is worn from the exercises, space them out more chronometrically. Muscle memory of these inexact practices will only give you more to unlearn in the future.> Evei thought for a moment, musing over his words and putting her reply together in her mind. She chewed on a bit of sausage as she thought, running her words through the cipher. Finally, she tapped out her reply carefully, her fingers seemingly only going through the motions of a bored novice. <I’ll do that. Can you repeat the last two forms for me? I can’t quite understand them. I get lost in the motions. Is there a possibility of the both of us working in the garden at the same time so we can ‘play’ with knives? I’ll need a bit of trial in error to get the forms right.> After her message, Evei continued to idly tap against the table while she ate. It wouldn’t do for someone to notice that the two of them never tapped at the same time, after all. Evei was beginning to learn that even such little things mattered in such a situation. Edited by Evei Atrium, Jul 10 2008, 03:23 PM.
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| Ildeus Sharshain | Feb 13 2008, 08:47 PM Post #4 |
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Youngling
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Ildeus heard the sigh and the soft chewing, but made no overt notice of it, even though other people eating was always one of the things that vexed him greatly. Of course, the recruit was one for getting vexed over different things and reacting in different ways; the smaller misfortunes people had, abounded if one looked for them, and one could enjoy that measure of vindication simply by observing the bad days of others. What hand was had in that is left only to the fates and fortunes of the Wheel itself, and none but the deluded or psychotic Ildeus knew put more stalk in that, than absolutely necessary. Without Ta'varen one was subjected to a cruel and indifferent world; which was harsh enough. With, Ta'varen, one added selfish to the list; so joy, over that. Ildeus would roll his own eyes sardonically at that long held recognition of what was, and not the bombastic wishes of the delusionary masses for what might be. Ildeus would have bashed his head bloody into the table over the repugnance of that notion, and the ill things of being around others as they ate, no sense of real manners, only their cultural underpinnings in dining, which found some way to put him off the concept of ingesting sustenance, other than what he choked down now in a few measured and fast gulps; neat, clean, and efficient at that. He didn't induce head trauma of course over the reasons of acceptable self appearances. Not a drip nor drop to be had out of place, to mar his perfectly pallid complexion, a distinctly Andoran trait. Ildeus' looks took after his wayward father, if one could call such a man that, presumably some accursed peerage's brat for the fineness of features the hybrid had inherited, and not name nor location hew knew for that one, nor even the circumstances of the conception that spawned him. Perhaps a child born out of violence to do violence, who could say really. Which was another part of the reason, for all the Elwyn hated the commonality, Ildeus despised nobility. They were worth less than useless, and a fetid cesspool miring into ignorance and corruption. Which is what made their likes so wonderfully exploitable. Any lordling playing at being an honest man was only that, playing; for there were no truly honest men in this world, only degrees of self deception and the arbitrary moral justifications behind those deceptions that men used. After all, there is truth in honesty, but there is no honesty in truth. Ask an Aes Sedai to always tell the truth and so she will; ask the witch if she is always honest and get aught but truth in return. Thus, in the convolution and disillusion one finds in dealing with the Aes Sedai, the simplest and most straight forward solutions tend to work the best. Should the witch feel the need to tie a string to you, then it was probably your own fault for consorting with them in the first place. If consorting is the price to be paid for greater prizes in the long run, when they've tied all those lovely strings to you, and assumed their own secured self superiority, then take those strings while the witches are distracted and garrote them till one is free, again; so to turn a phrase. Not that Ildeus disliked Aes Sedai per say, for they were a far better lot than most, and certainly the world was a lot saner under their directives, but as the world is already lost, it's every person for themselves. And so, again, they, like the rest, fall underneath the must needs of Ildeus himself; not that he is ever so directly obvious about it. His arrogance is notable, but so is the natural arrogance of the pretenders in black, yet to earn a pin, and still thinking themselves ascended above the rest. Ascension is proved in blood and steel, be it literal or proverbial, and nary a default presumption holds after Towers training takes the toll. Tolls taken, the evident result be that which precludes arrogance and violence both, and that is paramount self control. A black coat has it, and so do those with darker tendencies whom endure to become the exceptions that prove the rule. Time; time passed merrily away, as Ildeus ate and gave his idle ministrations of boredom, fingers weaving and whirling on that surface like many another initiate. It could be called fidgeting, and none would have real reason to take it more than that for all that sometimes it was exactly as it appeared, mindless motions expressed through the mastery of the hand. Subconscious repetition of things one did in practice such as proper hand grips, or in the hand to hand: the various shaping of form for unarmed combat. If one were illiterate perhaps one was practicing one's letters. It was poignant mediocrity by all appearances, and rather catching perhaps as he was not the only one to do it. Either you knew the entire cypher code or you didn't, because trying to decipher it would be impossible. First, none but those at the table were privileged to sighted specifics, and given the random intermixing of nonsensical gestures, there was no way to tell which depiction upon the table meant something, and which did not. In regard to the novice whom was nothing more than a sporadic deviation that amused a part of Ildeus, and was of little more concern than a side project with a distinctly vague possibility of pay off in the long run, he communicated, <No. There is no chance of that. However, I shall repeat them on the practice field at another date.> He did not elaborate when. It was not as if plenty of people weren't watching him as it was. Should he note said novice present during a session of knife work, then what he practiced would be relevant, and if not, he'd probably do the forms anyway. No rhyme nor reason, nor traceable deviation to his routine. If she were there at the right time and place, then Ildeus would have by default expressed clarification. What was unnoticed however was a casual sliding of a hand to place something in the food of the other. |
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| Evei Atrium | Nov 9 2008, 07:39 PM Post #5 |
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Aes Sedai of the Red Shen
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Evei took a small bite of bread, focusing her attention on her plate for a moment before she reached out and tilted her spoon to get a reflection of Ildeus. He usually didn’t reply quickly, but it was best just to make sure she didn’t miss something. Evei really didn’t want to face his disdain if she had to ask him to repeat what he’d said. She admired the man to a point, and Evei hated to act less than intelligent. A few minutes later, when Evei moved on to finish the last of her cheese, Ildeus finally tapped out his reply. No. There is no chance of that. However, I shall repeat them on the practice field at another date. Evei sighed, a little annoyed by his reply. She hated hanging about at the practice fields, like a nonsensical novice dreaming about becoming a Green and bonding a harem of warders. Without another thought, Evei pushed the last of her cheese into her mouth and got up from the table. She needed to go to the library and finish researching for her essay on Seanchan customs, and there really was nothing else to talk about with Ildeus, anyways. She picked up her tray, and moved away from the table. She didn’t pay attention to her surroundings; she knew the layout of the place pretty well, and she was so introverted that most of the time no one bothered her. With her lips pursed, Evei retreated into her mind to contemplate how should could finish her essay in time, trying to ignore the dizzy feeling that was quickly morphing into a headache. She hadn’t slept very well the night before, and was probably dehydrated as well, so Evei didn’t pay it any mind. But the dizziness was growing in the back of her mind, and her steps were wobbling. What in the light? Evei thought, even as she plummeted to the floor. Her head hit the tiles, and something sparked with pain as her neck twisted. Evei didn’t even notice the blood pooling around her face as everything fell away into darkness. A novice rushed over with a shriek, turning her body over. Evei’s neck flopped unnaturally at the movement, and the novice let out another ear piercing scream. “Light, she’s dead!” (  Oops.)Edited by Evei Atrium, Nov 9 2008, 07:39 PM.
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| Ildeus Sharshain | Nov 9 2008, 07:53 PM Post #6 |
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Youngling
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Ildeus turned at the sound of the fall, making the appropriate look of surprise and mouthing alarm with the rest of the sheep, before turning back to finishing his meal. He ignored the others as a sheet was lain over the 'corpse' and it was escorted from the premises. It was enough risk even educating the near-witch, questioning him only proved she was going to make complications later. It served a better purpose to find her removed now; a most convenient tragedy. Another hour or so passed, before at last he retired to something more interesting, like watching the green recruits stick themselves on their knives in practice. Crimson on silver was always pretty. |
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8:22 PM Nov 25
