RPG #5 - Of Aes Sedai and Asha'man

Discussion in 'RPG # 5 - Of Aes Sedai and Asha'man' started by Nienor, Oct 9, 2004.

  1. Turin

    Turin Valar Morghulis

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    The sun had sunk below the horizon roughly an hour ago, but Daranbar pushed on despite the thickening darkness. The lights of Ebou Dar were growing closer and he intended to spend the evening in an inn, sipping wine, rather than under the stars.

    Entering the city went by without event, though they did get some stares for the long cloaks they had donned just before entering the city. “Best to be cautious for the time.” Daranbar told himself. He had to admit, though, that the cloaks were oppressive in the sweltering heat, made all the worse by their jump into the south. The setting of the sun did little to relieve the climate, though; at least they wouldn’t get burned. Taim had shown his faithful students a trick to help them ignore inclimate temperatures, but despite that ability, Daranbar could still feel the weight of the climate.

    “There.” One of the other Asha’Man was pointing to a well-kept inn across the street from them. “It seems like a nice place Daran, perhaps they’ll be a few wenches for us as well.” He smiled as he said the last, but quickly smoothed his features when his leader didn’t return the mirth.

    “The Wandering Woman.” Daran said aloud. “Yes, it will do for the night.” Returning his gaze to the man who had spotted the inn he added. “The women in Ebou Dar are not what you are used to, my friend, be cautious. If you cause trouble for us, I’ll hang your head from the tree myself!”

    The mood grew notably more somber as the men stabled their horses and made their way into the inn. They did not bring much on their journey; each man carried a small script, and a healthy purse of gold. That would be all they needed on this excursion.

    “Rent yourselves rooms, and spend the evening mingling, as usual, we will begin in the morning.” Daran instructed his men. Recruiting in larger town and cities presented more risks than the smaller communities. All it took was for one person to call you a dark friend, or dragon sword, and the trip was all but ruined. The best way to start was with idle conversation, feeling out the atmosphere of those would – be recruits.
     
  2. Unraveller

    Unraveller <a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><

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    It had been dusk by the time they reached the smoking rubble of the farmstead. They had seperated and advanced cautiously, though he had known from the moment he saw the smoke that they were already too late. No telling whether any of the attackers had remained at the site and long years of habitual caution made careful scouting instinctive.

    There had been evidence aplenty, from the churned ground, broken spear and bodies of two of the agressors. That they had been of the attackers was obvious from the fact that their bodies were not among those hanging from the trees in the Orchard. The fact that there were no young women among those reconfirmed the conclusion he had already reached from the corpses of the attackers. The tracks leading away from the ruin also showed signs of prisoners.

    The decision to follow immediately had been simple, he could do little for those already dead and, though they had travelled hard the whole day and were long without sleep, they were well used to it, still fresh enough for the fight to come. This scenario had been repeated often, far too often of late, but Justice must be served. He just hoped they could arrive before the captors grew bored of their fun and moved on to far crueller sport.

    They reached the Dragonsworn camp just after midnight. He gathered them in together and signed their orders to them, though each well knew their place in the well rehearsed moonlight drama that was about to unfold. Los and Baijan seperated, one circling east, the other west. Seiera backed off into the trees, she was the least able for and least used to long travel but had the longest circuit to make. It was unfortunate and the largest risk in their enterprise but essential to their overall success. There always came a point when the enemy broke and without Seiera in place they could scatter far and wide in less than an hour. He settled himself to count the usual two hundred heartbeats and wondered as usual how his companions, with their differing heart-rates did the same so accurately. It was idle speculation, for they would not be called upon to act until after he did, it was to give them time to get into position, not co-ordination of attack.

    He readied his weapons, cocked and loaded his crossbow, settled his axe on his back and reverentally pulled on his cesti. They were gloves of dark leather, well padded and weighted with lead. The backs and knuckles were covered with dull metal plates with hooked spikes pointing toward the fingertips. More metal plates were strategically placed in the palm and on the insides of the fingers. They were a marvel to behold, even with the knowledge of how their previous owner had used them. Strange though, that they showed very little sign of wear, other than the metal, which had been bright and reflective, was now dull and matt.

    The time elapsed he began his advance.
     
  3. Unraveller

    Unraveller <a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><

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    The sentry went down without a sound but what concerned him was that such a camp even had one posted. They seemed to be more organised than usual; in fact, the quiet disturbed him. These sort of men usually went in for loud singing and raucous behaviour, with plenty of strong ale. As he inched closer through the underbrush he caught sight of the camp. It seemed that some of the men were enjoying their usual pleasures, but in a subdued manner. He could see three of them, unwashed and unshaven, in ragged clothing, some of which had at one time been in the possession of someone of much higher station than these louts. Unless they had come down far in the world. He had seen some such, charging toward unprotected villages brandishing ancient, now uncared for, blades, the embroidery on their coats frayed and hanging loose. Once even in the barely recognisable uniform of a Queen's Guardsman. These three had not the bearing though; and the way in which they swilled the ale from the jars had no hint of remembered gentility. Behind them in the trees he could see dark forms amidst the leaves, another man busy about one of them. At least one of them was still alive, no two, the slight movement of her foot had also let him see that they were staked out, probably gagged too if the men had any sense. Between him and the men a number of forms slumbered in their blankets, most with weapons within reach.

    Further down the clearing the reason for their subdued mood became apparent. Three men, on finely dressed, two slightly less so crouched on the ground around a lamp. They had something stretched on the ground between them and they were poring over it and apparently discussing something. He crept closer.

    "It is my estate, I think I should know it better than some map!" It was the finely dressed man who spoke.

    "It belongs to the Lord Dragon now, by order of the Prophet as well you know. We are to liberate it from your brother so that you can manage it for the greater glory of the Lord Dragon Reborn but you are not essential to that enterprise as you would do well to remember."

    He backed away. He had seen and heard many sickening things in his time, they had ceased to affect him long ago. Only rage remained. He slid the crossbow forward and sighted at the man so eager to slay his kin. There was a slight crunch as it connected with the back of his skull and, slowly, he collapsed backward. Calmly, methodically, he recocked the bow and reached to the five-bolt sleeve tied to his forearm to reload. The second bolt shattered the lamp, spraying burning oil over thetwo men bending over the corpse. They erupted in flame, shrieking horribly. Their men were immediately roused into confusion. Many fought to escape their blankets, some siezed weapons and flailed about them, others shouted that they were under attack and to form up. A few, quicker than the rest, grabbed blankets and ran to their officers crying, "Fire, fire." Quickly the men gathered round to help smother the flames. None noticed the two hindmost fall, nor the two still blanket clad forms on the edges of the clearing. He moved anyway, to take his position to the south. He picked off two more before anyone noticed.

    Dropping his crossbow in the brush he strode into view. He knew he was an impressive sight, taller than most and almost as broad across the shoulders. It was added to by the enormous bearskin and the flickering shadows cast by the pool of burning oil. They froze as they saw him, gradually turning to face him. Finally one found his voice:

    "Who are you, what do you want?"

    "I am Death, I am here for Justice."

    He raised his hands and fired the pair of pistol bows. Two men fell at the front. Two more disappeared from the back. He dropped the bows and slid the huge felling axe from its strap across his back.

    "Come on, we can take him," the bravest called beginning to advance and several of the men followed.

    "We can rush 'im," another muttered, "once we get inside 'is swing e's done for."

    One came on in a rush, bellowing a warcry. The axe sheared him in two at the waist. The others broke and charged. This was what he had been waiting for. The swing of the axe took down two of them, at least one permanently, and he released it. With a roar he flung himself on them, the swipes of his fists shattering bones and ripping away flesh. A great baying came from either side and the hounds were there, their muzzles already wet. Los leapt and tore out a throat, Baijan darted low, snapping at hamstrings. The men turned and tried to flee. The first three made it to the edge of the clearing, then one crumpled, one flew backward and the third rose in the air. Seiera came out of the brush, her massive claws effortlessly crushing the man in her embrace. A few moments of chaos and all was still.
     
    Last edited: Oct 17, 2004
  4. Nienor

    Nienor Administrator Staff Member

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    Walking down the river, Kori laughed at herself discovering it was nothing more than a downed log. From a distance it had played on her perception. Sitting down carefully on the log for a moment, she surveyed her surroundings. There were obvious footsteps around here. It wasn't good to have anyone snooping around Salidar. Determined to find out what was going on, she followed the footsteps a short ways. They were faint, obviously made by someone used to the woods, only with her senses heightened by Saidar could even see them.

    Walking a small distance up the path, she saw some deliberately broken branches. It was confusing why a person who had walked so carefully before would have become so careless. Stooping down, she examined one branch, hoping she wasn't walking right into a trap. Setting a ward for protection, she hoped that would be enough if a man started sniping arrows at her. In addition, Aes Sedai always needed to be on the lookout for Whitecloaks. Wearing her serpent's ring made her a target for any man in that order.

    Taking just one step off the path, she immediately noticed what was off. There was an unconcious Aielman lying in the trees!! Koriandre immediately crouched down, making herself as small as possible. What if there was an Aiel hiding in the trees? Observing the nearby area, she could see there was nobody else around. Peering at the Aielman, she saw the gaping wound on his shoulder. Briefly she wondered who had left it half tended. The person had attempt to staunch the bleeding a little by binding it. But didn't remove the arrow completely or stitch the wound shut.

    Curious about the nature of the wound, she delved him with the One power. Koriandre didn't notice any other problems than the wounded shoulder. Knowing she would need to quickly pull the arrow out while weaving at the same time, she half formed the spirit, water and air weave needed for healing. Weaving with her left hand, she pulled at the arrow stub with her right hand, silently cursing all the while the hand gestures taught with the healing weave. Concentrating intently, Kori hoped her talent with healing would be sufficient for now. If not to heal him completely, then sufficiently enough to bring him to a Yellow.
     
  5. Nynaeve

    Nynaeve <a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><

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    Maera slowly walked along the river. They still seemed so strange to her, imagine having so much water in one place! While she still had a cautious fear of them, she had learned to appreciate their beauty since being in the Wetlander's country. Maera loved to walk along them at a safe distance.

    Almost at Salidar now! It had been a long journey, as she had avoided towns and cities. Maerea was both nervous and excited to meet Kelaine and begin her training. She wanted to learn the way Aes Sedai wove their weaves, but there was no way she was going to be treated as a Novice or a Accepted. Egwene had told her all about their methods, and she was prepared to fight back. Supposedly Kelaine would treat her as a Sister, but Egwene could be wrong. At least she was ready!

    Maera stopped, she hear a muttering coming from a few feet away, and she felt sadiar being used. She slowly snuck around the underbrush to see who it was. A woman, Aes Sedai no doubt, clumsily healing an Aiel of all things! Her feeble attempts were only going to make it worse! She marched out of the brush and pushed her aside. Something like this was better in the hands of an expert! So intent on her weaves,she never noticed the shocked look on the woman's face, or who she was healing.

    Finished, Maera lowered her hands. She stared, shocked and the man lying in front of her. Haeruc! She had heard that he died in a battle, and some shameful whisperings of something he had done before. No matter, she had her own problems to deal with now. He was alive, and that is what was important. He could be dealt with later. She stood up, adjusted her skirt, and prepared to face the Aes Sedai.
     
    Last edited: Oct 17, 2004
  6. Nienor

    Nienor Administrator Staff Member

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    Appalled at being shoved aside during a weave, Koriandre immediately went to confront the other Aes Sedai. There was absolutely no excuse to interfere with another's weaving. Opening her mouth to berate the other woman, she noticed the woman wasn't an Aes Sedai. From her brillant red hair and odd clothes, Koriandre thought she might be an Aiel. Slightly shocked, Kori didn't remember ever seeing an Aiel woman before. Aiel in general rarely left the waste.

    Fortunately their combined efforts seemed to have worked. The wound no longer dripped blood and color was beginning to return to the man's face. It would only be a matter of moments before he regained consciousness.

    Turning her attention back towards the women, Kori growled, "What in the light do you think you were doing! You could have killed the man and both of us with your attempt at channeling. I do not tolerate wilders easily. Especially those who interrupt my work." Before the other woman could react Kori swiftly shielded her, so that she could not channel. Grabbing the Aiel woman roughly by the ear she threatened, "The Mistress of Novices should have fun with you. You will make an excellent novice, once you learn not to challenge an Aes Sedai."
     
  7. Nynaeve

    Nynaeve <a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><

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    Shocked, Maera stared at the Aes Sedai. She dared to place a shield on her? In a split second, she formed her plan. She whipped out her belt knife and held it to the Aes Sedai's throat. The surprise her lightning quick move caused allowed her break the wetlander's hold on her and slam through the shield on her and weave one of her own on the Aes Sedai.

    "How dare you attempt to shield me! I saved that man's life from your awkward healing, an Aiel! You almost killed him! And do not look down on me, you know I am stronger in the power than you." The brief glimpse of shock that passed her face made Maera know she had the upper hand. "I will not be treated as one of your novices, I come here as an equal to you, skilled in healing. If you do not accept that, I will drag you all the way to the Wise Ones and show you how they treat their novices. You would much rather be equals than see first hand how Aiel novices dig holes in the sand only to fill them up, I'm sure."

    With one smooth move, she slid her knife in it's sheath, but held the shield. With a small smile, she said, "I am Maera, Wise One of the Taardad Aiel. Are you ready to put this behind us and work together?"
     
  8. Unraveller

    Unraveller <a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><

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    His eyes swept over the ruins of the campsite. Light flickered from the campfire and the dying remains of the oil-fuelled blaze. Smoke drifted upward from the blistered corpses, a fine pall in the air like mist. Bodies were sprawled all around. Swiftly he checked the animals for injuries, as always mentally cursing the need for upfront assault. They were experts at picking targets off using stealth or from concealment but against even a medium encampment these tactics were riskier than the path they followed. This he had learned from hard experience. It was easy enough to whittle down numbers but there always came a point when the targets realised they were under attack and readied themselves to a point where any small party found themselves outmatched. Suprise was their best ally and had to be utilised to best effect. Even though it meant that the fighting became close and heated. Should they try to remain hidden and pick off lone stragglers too many would escape. If they scattered into the woods not even they with all their skill could hope to track them all down.

    Baijan was unhurt but Los was licking at a dark patch on his flank. He growled and backed off when approached though so it was either a scratch or not his. Signalling them to make their sweep around the camp he turned to Seiera. She was gazing at him with a mournful, confused expression and held her right forepaw off the ground. Instantly concerned he moved closed and crouched in front of her. Examining her paw he uttered a low chuckle. One of the men had obviously been wearing a cheap helm and her paw had gone halfway through it and gotten stuck. It had crumpled like the tin it probably was and was causing her some mild discomfort. Amusedly he raised her paw and worked it gently free. Leaving her to lick the circulation back into it he turned his attention back to the camp.

    Approaching the captives his expression became grim again. When he came into their view two of them emitted muffled shrieks and desperately tried to worm free of their bindings. One tried to scream what sounded like, "Bear." The third lay ominously still. Moving so he was no longer silhouetted by the guttering flames he shrugged the head of the bearskin onto his back and pulled off his gauntlets.

    "Not a bear, though the one with me is friendly," he said softly as he crouched by them.

    Drawing his dagger he severed their bindings and they crawled away from him clutching each other. He turned to examine the still form behind him. With a deep sigh he cut the ropes and rose.

    "You must see to your kinswoman, do what needs to be done for her," he said and strode back into the camp. Had they been men it would have been digging a grave but for women laying out a corpse was the easiest work to provide in the situation to keep their minds from shock and keep their hands busy. He would see to the grave, or pyre if they preferred, later.

    A sharp yip from the trees told him that he would shortly have company. He gathered his weapons and readied himself. There was a commotion in the bushes and a man backed into the clearing, hands outstretched in front of him. Growls preceeded the hounds, herding him carefully. Abruptly they halted and squatted, their eyes holding his. When the man finally turned and saw him he was sitting crosslegged on the other side of the fire, bearskin once more covering his hair and cesti-clad hands resting on his knees.

    "Please, mercy, I am innocent."

    "Come then and sit. I grant you the Court of the Wilds."

    Gingerly, with many a backward glance, the man edged over to the firepit and sat.

    "Justify yourself."

    "I was a carpenter, not the best in the town, but I worked hard. I was an important man until the Prophet came. He announced that all bonds were broken and siezed my shop. We were formed into these gangs and told to go and spread the word of the Lord Dragon. I had to go along with them, they'd have hanged me if I hadn't. We came to the area allotted to us but the rest had no interest in spreading the word. Oh, they would call for volunteers to join us at each farm but everyone else bar the young women they slaughtered. There was nothing I could do! I though about running away but I am not a brave man, I was terrified they'd come after me, hunt me down. You have to believe me!"

    For a long moment he held the man's gaze, he looked frightened, but not terrified, worried but not anxious.

    "A good story and convincing. This court would find you innocent."

    The man relaxed visibly and a slightly satisfied expression made it onto his face. Almost a smirk.

    "So what do we do next?" the man asked.

    He stood and walked slowly around the fire, stopping by the man's shoulder.

    "This court would find you innocent were it not for this," he said, reaching into the neck of the man's tunic to draw out thong bearing its grisly collection. "Innocent men do not carry trophies."

    "I had to!" he yelped, "they would have suspected me if I hadn't!"

    "That has been taken into account and would not be damning were it not for this."

    He leant down and siezed the man's wrist with his left hand, turning it palm upward and squeezing so the fingers were forced to uncurl.

    "No carpenter has hands like these. Hard work leaves its mark on a man. Had you taken the time to examine the man you stole that story from you would know that."

    The man opened his mouth to protest but his eyes told the truth. His right hand came up even as his own plunged the dagger into the man's spine. He gave it one twist and rose, bending again to wipe the blade on the man's tunic as he slumped over.

    "Did you enjoy that?" he said in his low, firm voice.

    The young woman jumped and came out of the bushes.

    "I..., I... no. No, I did not. Although I am glad that he is dead. Who are you?" she said, he eyes flitting from his to the corpse at his feet and back.

    "My name is not important. Are you uninjured? Your friend?" He knew better than to ask if they were unharmed, her emotional state would still be delicate.

    "We'll mend, we can walk."

    "Do you have kin? Friends you can go to?"

    "Yes, her uncle lives in the village, we can stay with him."

    She seemed calm but little details showed how fragile the front was.

    "You will be guided and kept safe until you reach there. What is your custom? For your other companion?"

    She almost jumped on hearing the question. Startled, she replied, "Why?"

    "You would not leave her in the woods surely?" he said.

    "But, but, we will stay and do what must be done for her. We could not leave her..." in the hands of a stranger, her eyes finished for her.

    "Little sister, be not afraid, I will care for her with all honours. You must return and warn the village, there may be other groups such as this one." He did not add that they need to be cared for themselves and would likely die of shock and exposure should they remain too long. She hesitated, at first shocked by the realisation that there could be a repetition of events, then understanding.

    "You will come with us? I'm sure Leucille's uncle will want to reward you and you would be given an honoured position in the village." And a useful addition to the village's security he added mentally. Likely blamed every time a wolf took a sheep and expected to solve every little problem that cropped up. No, he had been patted on the head and told to wait in a corner more than enough in his life. Her expression was now calculating, with a hint of invitation but a crease of fear around her eyes. She would do what she needed to survive.

    Abruptly he turned and strode back into the camp.

    "I cannot. There are many who require my help, others who cannot defend myself when events take them. Others in your situation."

    And many upon whom justice must fall he thought. He turned to regard her. She nodded, accepting. They always did. It was peculiar how women took the same pattern in these events. Men took different pattern, though they often tried to enlist his aid too. He did not encounter nearly so many men as women however, they were not a useful commodity to raiders.

    He called the hounds and prepared the women to travel, luckily it was not a long journey. As they were about to depart a screech resounded from the trees above. He looked to the hounds, each in turn, they knew what it meant and how to follow him should he not be there when their task was complete. The woman, no, the girl he had spoken to turned to him.

    "I, we, want to thank you and apologise for being ungrateful. You risked your life for us and you don't even know us. We want you to know that if there is ever anything we can do for you you need but name it."

    "There is but one request I would make. You know who I am by now, I can see it in your faces. You have heard tales of me. I ask that you only tell what you must and as little as possible. Soon this site will resemble nothing more than an attack on brigands by a rogue bear. Let the stories remain stories."

    They nodded and he motioned to the hounds. They led the women off into the trees, watching carefully, always one with the girls and one ahead or behind. They would guide them safely and watch over them until they reached their destination. He turned and began his work. They had to remove the corpses bearing wounds obviously made by weapons and as many of the others as they could manage in a reasonable time. They would bury them to be dug up later if necessary. There were alway animals for whom meat was scarce in winter, though it seemed this year that it would never come. It was unwise, however, to give them a taste for fresh human. Then they had to put some distance between them and the site and get some rest. They had a long journey again on the morrow, though it was no longer urgent. The Aielman had been found.
     
  9. Crusader

    Crusader Disturber of the Peace

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    The nightmare twisted and turned over and over again in his mind. Haeruc was being tortured by his own conscience. This close to death he only regretted not suffering more for that one fateful act.

    Suddenly he felt like the coldness of night washed through him a thousand fold, sering his bones into oblivion.

    Opening his eyes a sliver he just made out two women talking, one of which was a Wise One.

    From sitting slumpt against a tree he jumped to standing with his back firm against the bark, his right arm forward to block his left poised to strike, Haeruc was not one to take cornered, but there were no Maidens, he could harm none. Looking from their shocked faces at interrupting their talk, to the surrounding area, he spotted his spear resting against the next tree. Rolling there he hefted one and kept the point firmly between him and the others. He didnt know how he got here but he couldnt fact his people after what he did. And yet he would dishonour himself further if he did not fulfill his toh to those who aided him. Either way he stood their waiting for them to speak first.
     
  10. Nienor

    Nienor Administrator Staff Member

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    Realizing she was outmached in arrogance, though nothing else, Kori assumed her stiffest posture while speaking to Maera. She would never have dropped the hold on the shield except by being physically threatened. Holding the shield would have done little good against a physical attack. While Kori kept a dagger with her at all times, she knew the Wise One would have been faster. The Aes Sedai rarely had need to use hers.

    Slightly annoyed at being mocked, she retorted, "I've healed more injuries than you have inflicted. Though with your temperment, maybe I'm wrong." Taking out her gold embossed dagger, Kori idly glanced at it for a moment just to show the other woman she possessed a physical weapon too. Sheating it, the Aes Sedai smiled coldly and continued, "Equals? The first thing an equal would know is not to interrupt another when weaving. The results of that could have been more disasterous than ten bungled weaves." Kori spread her arms slightly feigning openness to the woman. "For now I am willing to work with you, we can address the novice issue later."

    While speaking to the Wise One, the Aiel man obviously thought himself ready for battle again, jumping to his feet with a spear in his hand. Little did he know the healing would leave him weak and hungry. "Oh, do sit down before you injure yourself again." Kori chided. She wove a small flow of air that knocked him back down, doing harm only to his pride.

    Realizing her behavior made Maera smile slightly, Kori felt more at ease. She genuinely smiled at her and asked, "Would you like to assist me in bringing him to camp before we need to heal him from stupidity inflicted wounds?"
     
  11. Crusader

    Crusader Disturber of the Peace

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    Haeruc was startled by being knocked over by nothing, it must have been the wise one, he had heard that some could do miracles, he had never been seriously injured enough to need a wise one to aid him untill now, but this was bizarre. Looking to his shoulder he saw no break in the skin, nothing but flaking blood that had dried over smooth skin, he even doubted there would be a scar. A pity, no trophy to bear slaying wetlanders.

    Right now he felt as weaker than the time he bled for two hours straight, but he got to his feel and let none of it show on his face. He gathered up his weapons and placed them at his back, keeping one spear in his hand just in case.

    Unwinding his shoufa from his head he let the sun fall on his skin, not like in the threefold land, but warm enough, running an hand through his golden red hair he set his eyes on the two women.

    "I am Haeruc of the Raern rift sept of the Codarra Aiel, I have great toh to you"

    That said enough, he still felt like falling over and dying, but he usually did when confronted with a wise one, or anyone with a wise ones strength, and this other woman seemed to fit that description well. Anyway he never let a silly thing like death keep him from meeting toh.
     
  12. Radagast

    Radagast Art House Member

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    The stone arched hallway was far from the rich nobility that encompassed the rest of the estate mansion, but Raheryin knew that only servants would dwell this low, and few at that. If it were not for the rather obvious hints left everywhere, Raheryin may not have noticed Master Urayio's secrecy. Reflecting back, Raheryin realized that he should of caught on earlier. It was a shame that Lord Urayio's daughter was so pleasent to the eye.

    It had started with strange travellers journeying to the mansion at late hours, and not one of them appearing to be gifted with coin. At first, Raheryin had not taken notice of them. They were commoners, and were unworthy of his interest. Yet continually they would be granted private session with Lord Urayio, even at the late hours of the night. Quite obviously, Raheryin had tried to probe into what affairs were discussed at these depthful gatherings, however not one servant was ever allowed to be in the room. When Raheryin gently inquested to Master Urayio the significance of these meetings, Master Urayio would either change the topic or give an answer Raheryin could easily realize was false.

    The hallway turned into a sharp bend, and soon Raheryin came within a distance to be able to hear muffled voices. Another one of these mysterious visitors had come this very afternoon, Raheryin had noticed him stray in on an old packhorse while he was enjoying the company of Master Urayio's daughter in the gardens. This specific man had come three prior times since Raheryin had started taking note of these occurances. After politely creating a feasible excuse as to why he must end the enjoyable session, Raheryin casually followed the worn traveller into the main hall and followed him into the basement, where Master Urayio, as he had on prior occasions, would wait.

    Raheryin was close enough to distinguish the seperate voices of the two men now, however in preperation for the next time this would occur, he had worked one of the stones loose in the room adjacent to where Master Urayio and his vistor were for easy access. Very quietly entering the room, he crouched by the tiny hole, giving him a perfect view of the two.

    The visitor was on his feet, talking in a harsh tone of voice to Urayio. "These are your orders, sent from the mouth of the Chosen themself! You will obey!"

    Lord Urayio's voice was timid, his face pale. "I will obey with all my heart's dedication."

    "You are to arrange the conditions for the plan to work. The resources you need will be available soon. We must succeed in their destruction!"

    They continued to discuss the matter in more detail while Raheryin listened attentivly, gathering every little detail and trying to place it together. However, they soon ended the discussion, and Raheryin had still yet to determine whom they were out to attack. Raheryin quietly recited the names of people and places that were spoken over in his head to help keep them fresh in his memory. They may be helpful in the future.

    Quietly closing the massive oak door, Raheryin slipped into the dead hallway. Careful not to let the bells in his hair jingle, he headed down the narrow hallway for the stairs. Although the coin Lord Urayio provided was sufficent, Raheryin knew it was by far time he should leave. He would grab his quarterstaff and leave as soon as possible, hopefully unnoticed.

    No amount of coin would compensate for working under the service of a Darkfriend.
     
    Last edited: Oct 18, 2004
  13. Meteorain

    Meteorain Magical & Mystical

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    The conversation with his Aes Sedai managed to get nowhere thaknfully. He knew he couldn't keep the truth at bay too long. After his Aes Sedai left, Steivan sat there for a while. Idle daydreaming, random thoughts ran through his head. When would he go mad? Why could he channel? What would Aes Sedai do?

    After a while, Steivan came out of his thoughts, and shielded the link with Kori. Leaving for the clearing he had found, he went there to further contemplate. Upon reaching the area, he found that all he wanted to do was to see what he could do with the One Power. Standing in the middle of the clearing, he emptied himself of all emotions. Saidin shone in the emptiness, letting himself go, he grasped at it. At first he grapsed nothing. Trying again, he was filled with it. The torrent of power ran through him. First wanting to be able to hold the power as second nature would be his first task he set himself. Yet after a few moments he felt something unlike saidin...simliar yet no the same. probing it he realised it could only be saidar. He thought he could see the weaves. Probing it, at first he just slid along it. Yet after a while he came across a knot like feature. Picking at it he undid the whole weave after some while.

    Undoing the weave semmed to sap much of his energy. Letting go of Saidin reluctantly yet with much struggle, he came back to normal. Uncovering the shield with Kori, a sudden feelign spread through him. She was not alone, and not nearby. Quickly taking up a horse he headed down to the river. Looking carefully he found the lightest of traces. he decided to follow them...maybe Kori was there.
     
  14. Sorcha

    Sorcha Moderator Staff Member

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    The closer Taryn came to the encampment, the more nervous she became. This would be the first time she had tried to heal deadly injuries. All she had ever experienced was healing minor cuts or giving energy to those that needed it. Hoping that she would not faint at the sight of blood, and trying to keep her hands from shaking, she entered the first tent Kelaine led her to. These were wounded that had not been tended to yet, and the stench of death hung heavy in the air. Although all the Yellows were put to healing, there were still not enough to take care of them all. Taryn turned towards the man nearest to the door. He had extensive injuries: two arrow wounds in his side, and what appeared to be a sword wound across his ribs. Extending her awareness, she found that he had internal bleeding as well and the beginnings of an infection. Not very sure of herself, she tentatively stretched out a trembling hand and placed it on the unconscious man’s forehead. Touch was not always necessary, but it made healing a bit easier. As soon as Taryn touched the soldier, she felt cold seeping into her, as she passed her energy to him. Pouring more and more power into him, slowly at first, the wounds on his shoulder and chest began to knit together, and the bleeding in his belly slowed and finally stopped. As she pulled her hand away, she swayed a bit, for the healing had taken more energy than she had ever used before. Taryn faintly heard Kelaine ask if she needed a moment or healing herself as if through a fog, but Taryn numbly shook her head and moved slowly over to the next patient. One by one, she went to three of the wounded, feeling weaker each time, until she got to the fourth. This soldier was closer to death than the others. He had a fractured skull, ribs cracked or broken, and much internal bleeding. Apparently he had fallen off of one of the roofs during the battle, but how or why he was up there in the first place was a mystery. This one will take almost everything, she thought to herself, vowing to be extra careful. She straightened her shoulders and determinedly but gently placed her hand on his forehead. All of the work she had done had taken its toll, more than she had realized. She completely lost control, all of her energy rushing into the soldier. As she frantically tried to stem the flow of power with every shielding she could think of, and realizing that if she broke the link they would both die, the room started to spin. She collapsed, knowing only darkness.
     
    Last edited: Oct 20, 2004
  15. Turin

    Turin Valar Morghulis

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    Daranbar and his men spent the previous evening mingling with the many patrons of the Wandering Woman, their black coats and distinguishing pins displayed proudly. He realized that no one seemed to know the relevance of a black coated man wearing such pins, wich was just as well. As the night wore on and the drink flowed more freely, many of the patrons began speaking of various happenings in the world, and often the topic came to the Dragon Reborn. This had, of course, been the opening Daranbar and his men sought. Outright recruitment was dangerous in a town this large, but casual conversation could acomplish things with much less risk.

    The stern faced Asha'man sat by himself at a corner table sipping tea and watching the five men he brought along administer test's to various men who had returned this morning. All were men who pledged themselves to The Dragon Reborn willingly. Daranbar always feared that the Black Tower would be seen as nothing better than the Dragon Sworn scum that flocked to this 'Profit', for obvious reasons he wanted to avoid that reputation. These men would go willingly, those who showed the ability to channel would be sent to the Black Tower, and those who could not would have the option of serving under the tutalage of Davram Bashere.

    Daranbar noted with disdain that the mistress of the inn was no longer about. She had raised suspiscious questions about the Asha'man's business this morning, and though no one would say outright that they were looking for men who could channel, Daranbar suspected that she knew more than she let on. He'd heard many rumors of a concentration of Aes Sedai in the area and he was hoping that he would not have to resort to killing one of them should she come snooping around . . . or worse yet, be captured and gentled. The thought sent a shiver down his spine. He'd always considered his life full and exciting serving in the Tear Cavalry, but serving the Lord Dragon, and feeling the glory of Saidin, he realized that he had been asleep all those years, only to awaken to a brilliant dawning.

    Daranbar driften out of his musing at the sight of a man coming down from the rooms upstairs . . . he wore a Heron Mark sword at his hip.
     
    Last edited: Oct 20, 2004
  16. Nienor

    Nienor Administrator Staff Member

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    With Maera's help, Kori starting leading the Aiel towards the healing area. While he seemed healed enough to her, it wouldn't hurt to have a more experienced Yellow check him over. The man also badly needed rest and food if he was to recover from the healing. It sapped strength almost as badly as the original wounding. Several times he nearly stumbled, but typical for a man, accepted little help from either Kori or Maera. It was tempting to leave him in the woods wherever he fell, especially because he kept mumbling about his toe. 'If he didn't keep stumbling on so many darn roots his toe would be fine' Kori mumbled to herself.

    As they approached the bustling healing tents, Kori scouted around for a quiet area. She doubted the man wished to be asked a million questions by people curious about the Aiel. Motioning towards some blankets in a corner of a supply tent she said, "Stay here for now. Nobody is coming in her much. I'll find one of the serving girls to give you something to eat and you need to rest in order for the healing to be effective." When he mumbled something once again about his toe, Kori snapped, "You've been healed, I'm sure your damn toe is just fine." Suddenly realizing her lapse in language and manners, the Aes Sedai nearly blushed. All those years of Sheriam Sedai correcting her language went for nothing once Kori had gotten the shawl. She still looked over her shoulder occasionally when using coarse language, before remembering there was no punishment for that anymore.

    In softer tones, she concluded, "I'll be back soon. Just stay put."

    After thinking for a moment she turned towards Maera and said, "Thank you for your help so far. I would suspect Kelaine Sedai is around here. I think everyone from the Yellow Ajah is around here." she added wryly. "I'll see if I can help you find her." She strode out of the tent with the Wise One following behind. Kori thought she should turn the situation over to another Aes Sedai anyhow. Let her be the one to get the woman to write her name in the novice book. Once that happened, the entire situation would go much better. Obviously the woman would benefit from more training, she seemed to have a talent for healing, but hardly any training. Best if someone else attended to that, Kori had other things to worry about.

    Stopping a passing dark haired novice, she dictated, "There is a red haired man in the supply tent. I promised that somebody would bring him a meal. Do so quickly." Finishing up her thought she questioned, "Have you seen Kelaine Sedai?" Fortunately for Kori the novice said the other Aes Sedai was in the large green tent.

    Ignoring the stench of too many unwashed bodies in the same place, Koriandre and Maera entered the tent. Hopefully they could find Kelaine quickly and find a better place to talk. From the corner of her eye, Kori saw the pale haired woman she had met before. Kelaine had sent her off before Kori could even inquire about the girl's name. Briefly, she wondered why the girl was in the healing tents. Only a few servants were here besides the Aes Sedai; she didn't appear to be a servant. Suddenly, she was collapsed upon the ground. With a gasp, Kori rushed over towards her, ready to offer any assistance she could.
     
  17. Elan Morin Tedronai

    Elan Morin Tedronai The Forsaken

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    Ahsdale quickly threw his things together, placing his sword on his left hip, his quiver on his right and his bow across his back. He then threw his dark cloak over himself to conceal them all. He had spent enough time at The Wandering Woman - it was clear he would find no Aes Sedai in Ebou Dar. Picking up his few remaining belongings he left his quarters and began walking down the stairs. As he approached the bottom he noticed a tall man with a well oiled goatee staring at him. He looked Tairen. Ahsdale casually glanced around the room, pretending not to notice. He did not want trouble.

    Oddly enough, there were at least 4, perhaps 5 others dressed in the same dark coat. "What in the Light is going on ?" he mused as he returned his attention to the Tairen. Something set this man apart from the rest, his coat he realized, had two pins. One on each side, the first was a sword, its point facing down and the other...."Light !" he exclaimed loudly, nearly losing his grip on the railing. That strange serpentine animal.....he had seen that before. In his visions, the red-headed man had fought beside that banner. He had seen that creature every night since the events in Falme.

    Ahsdale purposefully strode towards the Tairen, he seemed to pay no heed to Ahsdale's mood. "Who are you ?" Ahsdale growled. The Tairen turned and eyed him up and down, "Thats an interesting weapon you carry there. I noticed it when you came down the stairs." he said casually, sipping his drink.

    "You didn't answer my question, Tairen, who are you, and what does that mean ?" he said as he prodded the mans upper chest, where that serpentine creature sat proudly.

    "Let's go outside," said the Tairen sternly, "we have much to speak of, it seems."
     
    Last edited: Oct 21, 2004
  18. Turin

    Turin Valar Morghulis

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    Daranbar noted the looks on the other Asha’man’s faces as the stranger spoke. The also noted a couple of potent looking weaves forming behind the man as he poked Daranbar in the collar. A slight wave of his hand and the weaves dissipated. He stood and motioned for the agitated newcomer to lead the way and followed him through a small door in the back of the kitchen, motioning for the other Asha’man to continue as he passed.

    As the pair walked through the small stable yard to the stable, Daranbar took in a measure of the man he followed. He appeared strong, but lacked some of the deadly grace that was typically present among those carrying the Heron Marked blades. He supposed that a mans posture could be trained and might not be indicative of his fighting prowess. Never the less, Daranbar concluded that exchanging sword blows with the man might not be in his best interests if push came to shove.

    They entered an empty quite stable, and the man turned again to Daranbar, extending a finger to again prod the Dragon pin at his collar. Before the mans hand reached Daranbar, the Asha’man hand woven flows of air around both of his arms, and snapped them back down to his sides. Lifting the man a foot or so from the ground, Daranbar noted the fierce struggle the man put up, as well as the wide-eyed shock that appeared on his face after being neutralized by an invisible force.

    Daranbar strode slowly around the man taking in a good measure of him, noting subtleties in his clothing and hair. He paused a moment to run a finger along the hilt of that beautiful sword. “You’ve a bit of spirit in you, yes?” Daranbar chided when he again came to face the man. A wry smile crept onto his lips as he continued. “You asked about this?” He lightly fingered the pin on his collar as he spoke.

    “I’ll make you a deal, my friend, I will answer your question, but then you must do a thing for me . . . agreed?” Daranbar asked, maintaining that wry smile.

    The strangers face darkened and he made an angry grunt, but he ceased his struggling. “Very well!” He responded.

    “Good, I suppose though that you had little choice in the matter yes?” He noted the fierce look in the other man’s eyes as he spoke, noted for the first time the difference in dialect. “A proud one too I see, let me guess, you’re a northerner . . . no matter. This –” He motioned again to the Dragon pin. “Is the mark of my lord. I serve the Dragon Reborn.”
     
  19. Elan Morin Tedronai

    Elan Morin Tedronai The Forsaken

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    The Dragon Reborn.... The words hung in the air. He knew that name - everyone knew that name. The words were enough to still Ahsdale's useless struggle. But not for long.

    "What have you done to me !?" Ahsdale said sternly, "release me at once, I want nothing to do with the Prophet !"

    "...The Prophet ?" said the black-coated man, "you think I serve him ? No, I serve the true Dragon Reborn. I serve Rand al'Thor." The name thudded on the inside of Ahsdale's skull. Rand al'Thor... Ahsdale knew that name, but how ? He had never met a Rand al'Thor in his life.

    Struggling against his invisible bonds, Ahsdale attempted to kick the man standing mere inches away from his face. But to no avail. "What have you done !? Answer me," cried Ahsdale.

    "This, my friend, is the power of saidin."

    Ahsdale's eyes widened in shock, for the first time realizing the severity of his situation. He was at the mercy of a man destined to die, and take half the world with him.
     
    Last edited: Oct 22, 2004
  20. Turin

    Turin Valar Morghulis

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    “Oh do stop your squirming!” Daranbar snapped at the bound man. “Your struggles only gain you discomfort.” He set the man down on his feet so that he could look down upon him. “I will release you of your bonds if you can behave yourself . . . agreed?”

    The other man did not respond but Daranbar noted the resignation in his look. He took a step back and let the weave go. The other man sagged briefly before regaining his composure. His hand went to the hilt of his sword, though he did not draw it from its scabbard. Daranbar raised an amused eyebrow, he knew that it was nothing more than a reflex, but he couldn’t pass up the opening for another jibe. “Oh, please do! It’s been nearly two weeks since I’ve had to kill a man, and I do so enjoy the thrill.”

    Another look of anger passed across the man’s face, one that made Daranbar smile a bit, if only to himself. “Such ferocity” he thought to himself. As the shorter man removed his hand from the hilt of his sword Daranbar went on. I have two simple rules for you before we continue. One; you will remain in my company until I leave this city. I can’t have you running through the streets blathering about men who can channel now can I. Two –” Daranbar allowed a bit of his anger over the man poking him earlier to come through in his voice. “If you decide to prod me with that finger again, well . . . I might just make your eyes explode.” Daranbar smiled a bit at the look that crossed over the other man's face.

    “As I’ve told you, I serve the Lord Dragon, not this Dragon Sword rabble that terrorizes the country side, supposedly in his name. I seek men who would willingly and faithfully serve the Dragon Reborn, under the light, and in defiance of the shadow, are such a man?”
     
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