Arm's Length (Ravak)

The offices of the M'hael, Amyrlin Seat, Master of Arms, Keeper and the MoNSTers
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Re: Arm's Length (Ravak)

Postby Matty » Thu Jun 15, 2017 1:30 pm

The sulky tone was amusing in itself but it meant that Ravak was actually thinking. Whether he was considering Feroce's words or daydreaming about swords, who could say? Feroce was not inclined to try and psychoanalyse the man, he left that to the people he really had to make an effort to play the Game with. Of course, the simple pieces were as important as the complex ones if not only for their number, but this simple piece had a position. Feroce would have to keep an eye on his business, as stupidity was in direct correlation with impulsiveness. Who could say what Ravak would do next?

He was going to do what was important, but for all Feroce knew this meant getting all the shoes of the Grey Tower to sparkle. The Cairhienin looked on with that expectant patience he had mastered over the years living with so many women with opinions, but really he wanted the man to leave so he could get on with his actual work without any of this ham-fisted politicking. If he could even call it that.

When he was asked for any other advice, it was delivered in such a way that Feroce suspected it wasn't wanted right then - he could pick up on such, er, subtleties - but the M'Hael didn't let that ruffle his feathers any. "Of course, I have plenty of advice for our symbolic Blade," he said. With a quirk of an eyebrow he added, "but far too much to discuss in an informal chat such as this. Murdock can book you in for some quality time should you have need of my experience." It was delivered in a tone that said he had missed any of the undertones in Ravak's query, but there was too much of a sharpness in his eyes, and the lips were too set in that almost-smile, that the former Grey made it quite clear he was not missing anything in this conversation.
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------ Murdock -------------- Nathaniel --------------- Maever -------

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Re: Arm's Length (Ravak)

Postby Craig » Mon Jun 19, 2017 1:14 am

Ravak
Ravak stood up, letting none of his silent satisfaction at being dismissed show on his visage. If anything, the crease of his brow still spoke of anger. The symbolic Blade. He would have to muse over that statement later to figure out what, precisely, Feroce was getting at. Maybe the symbolic Fang can chip his tooth on something.

Considering the rest of what the M'Hael had mentioned, Rav murmured: "Murdock, of course." Well, the very odd Brown was now no longer his most disliked Asha'man. The Keeper was a strange one, but at least he didn't scheme and plot and mince his words. Feroce and Murdock were made for one another, two grumpy oddities in a pea pod.

"And if you have need of me," Rav grumped, "then enjoy the walk." And with that, the Master of Arms marched out from the M'Hael's office.
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