Rhuidean

Two weeks had gone by since the War Council had decided not to go to
Rhuidean, and admittedly Stevan was enjoying the free time at the
Tower, away
from the dangers of mission. Indeed, Stevan had almost forgotten all
about
the ancient city until he arrived at his office early one morning to
find a
note rolled up upon his desk.

As this was the first message he had received for a while, he sat down
on his
chair and unrolled it, wondering what instructions the message would
contain.
His eyes widened, and his mouth opened. Getting up, he muttered, "The
end of
our peace."
 
 

He knocked on the door of the library only to receive no reply. So he
cautiously opened it and peeked inside to find Xyranthes sitting over a
pile
of books, muttering furiously to himself as he read. As Stevan entered,
the
elderly Asha'man looked up surprised. "Sorry Stevan, I must have been
so
engrossed in my studies that I didn't hear you knock. Or didn't you?"

Stevan smiled as he came and sat down on the opposite side of
Xyranthes'
desk. "Yes, I did knock," he replied, knowing all too well of what
happened
to the librarian when he was involved with a book.

Xyranthes looked up from his book again. "What brings you here then?
News of
Rhuidean I presume?"

Stevan nodded. "I informed the Storm Teams just minutes ago to prepare
for a
mission, which means that you, my friend, will have to get ready too.
But the
main reason I'm here is to see if you've collected my information about
Portal Stones. We're going to need to use one."

"You needn't worry Stevan, I've prepared a whole collection of notes on
them
for you," he said, handing over to Stevan a sizeable pile of paper.
Seeing
the look on Stevan's face, he laughed. "But I'm sure I can remember how
to
operate one correctly, if you need me to!"
 
 

At noon, Haza and Maelstrom were gathered in the courtyard of the Black
Tower
with their belongings carried in bags upon their shoulders. Stevan
stood at
the head, checking if everyone was there. "Aramis, La'rece, Collin,
Rengar,
Shea...I think that's it now," he murmered just before he addressed the
crowd.

"Two weeks ago I received news that sets of footprints had been found
leading
to and from Rhuidean to the Portal Stone which stands near the city.
After
discussing with the War Council, I decided that the Black Tower
shouldn't
investigate further, and should wait for news of more drastic events.
Meanwhile the Lord Dragon had stationed a guard of Aiel around the
Portal
Stone." He took a deep breath as he glanced at people's faces. Many had
heard
rumours of a mission, yet none of them as of yet knew what it was, and
they
were taking in this new information eagerly.

"However, this morning I was informed that the Aiel guard was found to
be
slaughtered, with the evidence pointing towards the One Power being
used." He
struggled to speak over the murmurs and gasps of shock, and he raised
his
voice to continue with, "Some ter'angreal and angreal were also noted
as
missing from Rhuidean." Even more murmurs.

It was at that moment Stevan opened a gateway. "So we go to Rhuidean,
enter
the Portal Stone and hope to end up where the criminals are!" He
stepped
through to feel a wave of heat come over him. He glanced around at the
Aiel
Waste, and then he stopped and stared as he caught his first ever
glimpse of
Rhuidean...
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------
 

Steve
**********************************************
M'Hael of the Black Tower
Marked Asha'man Stevan Jaer Ingaren
Lord of Fal Sion
**********************************************
<><

  "Light, I hate the heat." Already sweat plastered the close cropped white hair of Xyranthes to his forehead, rolled down his back and made him even more crabby and wretched than a man in his early fifties should be. And this was before he even stepped into the gateway Steven had created. The Dragon had shown the tower the age old trick of ignoring the heat, but Xyranthes had never succeeded in his attempts to stop sweating. Deep within his psyche the longing for the cold from the Spine of the World clamored.  "I really, really hate heat." A thought occurred to him, and he brought up a weave of air and water. It worked till he had stepped through the gateway, then the dry heat of the Waste leached the moisture from his weave.  Dejectedly, the old Cairheinian acknowledged defeat and choose to bear the heat.  By this time other members of the Tower had begun to step through the gap between space and time and gather in the small vale near the ancient city of Rhuidean. About 50 yards away, a small stump of stone jutted from the desert floor. Xyranthes approached, reaching into his jacket pocket for a small notepad hidden inside. Refreshing his mind of the complex weave needed, the elderly noble glanced at the pillar.  'Portal stones bridge the gaps between the worlds that are, those that could be, and the worlds that might have been. Each stone is linked to an  infinite number of other stones, each of those stones linked to an infinite number of other stones, both here and there and nowhere. Each link is of pure light, and only the inner light can see that which is not there. It links the hope of things not seen with that which is seen. Place the light of Life before thee, and the stone behind, as many paces as there are Powers, for stone is of the Earth, but the Light transcends that which is into that which may be and the Powers bind both together. Touch the firmament of the world one hand high for each of the companions, less one hand high in remembrance of the One who is above all things, so that it is as it was in the days gone by. Turn to the stone, that thee may see that which lies before thee. As the One who called the land from the see did in the day of Creation, so now look on and behold that which thy hands have made. Therefore with the Light before thee, thou may walk and never fear, for the way is illumined before thee, and the way will be opened and shown. Once shown, look neither to the left nor the right, but ever forward.' Justarvius Mordichie, philosopher and mathematician 231 FY. "Leave it to Justarvius to say a whole lot without saying anything important on the surface." Xyranthes chuckled to himself. Justarvius had been the most  thorough in his studies of the Portal stones, yet the man had gone mad while studying the stones. In the end, after wearing his shoes on his ears for about three years, he had caught athletes foot in the inner canal and died.  But mad or not, Justarvius knew the most about the Portal stones since the breaking of the World, and one mealy had to read between the lines. Obviously the Inner Light was the One Power. The light of Day was waning in the waste, but it looked to be about three hours before Dusk, that left two hours to prepare.  "Steven, I can find out where the stones last users went, but not before  sunset. We have little more than three hours to wait till I can complete the weave, orders?"
Peter
<><

  Mura'shar listened to Stevan's news with some apprehension. As a Cairhienin, he had no particular desire to see the Aiel Waste. And now that things had finally settled down at the Black Tower and Myiona was speaking to him again, he was hoping for a little more time to relax.  Looking around, he spotted the two Soldiers that were the source of some of the Tower's more recent disruption. The shot him sullen looks as they spotted his glance. Their initial terror had worn off, though they have been nothing short of perfectly proper to everyone at the Black Tower for the last couple of days. He knew he made no friends in them, though.  Stevan had opened a gateway to the Waste "So we go to Rhuidean, enter the  Portal Stone and hope to end up where the criminals are!" With that Stevan stepped through Mura'shar was one of the first Asha'man through the gateway, right after Myiona. He'd never been closer to the Waste than the Jangai Pass before.  And the heat was worse than the pass. He could feel the moisture being sucked from his pores and his throat drying. How could the Aiel live in these conditions?  His first site of Rhuidean completely altered his train of thought. In this desert, which looked next to lifeless, an entire city which rival the majesty of Cairhein and Caemlyn was totally incongruous. Small figures moved about in the streets. Did people live here? It seemed improbable that this relic to an Age gone by would be used for so mundane a purpose as living quarters.  Not far from it was a large lake, which only added to the strangeness.  What was a lake doing in a desert?  Putting the city, and all the wonders it may hold, out of his mind for the moment, Mura'shar rounded up a few stray Soldiers that decided to wander and awaited further orders.
Jake
Marked Asha'man

  A wave of oppressive heat washed the group as they passed through the Gateway into the Aiel Waste. Rough gravel replaced the softer grasses of the Black Tower. Nothing of measure grew here. It was in inhospitable land. Yet down the mountain before them lay Rhuidean, forever changed by the Dragon. Now a large body of water stretched away braced on both sides by fields of growing fruits, vegatables, and the like. Rhuidean, dead for so long, had been given new life; its streets filled with new inhabitants, mostly Aiel who followed the Dragon Reborn.  Looking around at her companions, La'rece felt a momentary pang of sympathy for the new recruits who had not yet mastered the trick of ignoring the temperature of a given place. In this instance, the sweltering furnace of the Aiel's Three-fold Land. Feeling relief at being back in breeches which were far easier to deal with the usual Tower adventures in, the Dragonsworn walked over to a group of Novices. The young women were hardy group, yet even they were quickly succumbing to the extreme climate. Reaching into her pocket, La'rece slipped her grandmother's ring onto her finger. The small angreal made it possible to channel larger amounts of Saidar than would be ordinarily possible. Roses and poppies encircled the ring in red, green, and yellow gold.  Looking across to the lake across the way, the Dragonsworn channeled. An intricate weave of water, air, and spirit, touched with fire. A fine mist enveloped the Novices and other members of the Tower bringing the temperature down a mere notch, but even that seemed helpful.  La'rece was feeling very pleased with herself and the apparent relief the weave had brought, when she felt someone's eyes boring into her. Turning, she found Xyranthes staring at her, or rather at the ring on her finger. *  Well, I suppose I'd best find out what's wrong. The man's clearly perturbed about my weave ?? and, it would appear, my angreal.*  Walking over to where the Cairhienian stood looking at her, La'rece was struck by the quality of the man's eyes. She would bet her finest silk dress that they didn't miss a trick. "What's wrong?" she asked flatly. After her  experience in the Library, the Dragonsworn was not about to hand out trust like new baked cookies.  "That." Xyranthes replied just as flatly making the barest gesture to indicate La'rece's ring. "You can't take that through the Portal, La'rece.."  Turning to look at the skewed stone stub on the side of hill off in the distance, she asked, "Why not?" For a moment she thought Xyranthes was going to become angry, but instead he merely shrugged.  "Apparently, there are inherent dangers involved with the use of Portal Stones when there are certain other angreal about. I think it would be a good idea if your ?? ring were left behind ??" The Librarian's smile suddenly seemed almost sinister to the Dragonsworn.  For a moment La'rece considered whether Xyranthes might be trying to get her to stay behind for some reason, but dismissed the thought. Why would Xyranthes be interested in anything but this Portal Stone and the mission at hand. With a bare nod, an almost imperceptible inclining of her head, La'rece turned to find an appropriate place to set the ring.  Walking a ways off around a cluster of rocks, the Dragonsworn first tied off the weave creating the cooling mist. It would dissipate with time, but by then they should be well on their way to the other side of the Portal. Creating a dome of air and water to prevent unwanted eyes from peering in, La'rece chose a medium size rock. With a whip crack of air, spirit and earth, she cleaved the stone in two. Bright purple amythest crystals glittered from inside. Were she not using the stone to hide the ring, La'rece might have taken the two halves to place on a shelf in her study. Placing the ring inside the stone, the Dragonsworn used a fine weave of air, earth and fire to seal the stone again. A small weave around the stone would both hide and identify it later for her to find the ring again. Inverting the weave so that none but she could see it, she smiled.  Releasing the weave creating the dome, La'rece walked back to join the group.  As she stepped over to where Myiona and the others stood, the Dragonsworn glanced over to the Librarian. Xyranthes nodded to La'rece who returned the gesture in kind.
Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 Tareena stood clutching her skirts, willing her stomach to settle down.  She had not been feeling well for a couple of days and the oppressive heat was murder on an upset stomach. Willing the contents of her stomach to stay in place, she moved down to where the War Council was gathering, assuming that decisions would now have to be made on what the next step would be.  Tareena glanced back through the gateway which still had the storm teams spilling out of it from the Tower. She allowed herself one fleeting thought of her bondmate, wondering when he would return from his mission and be able to join her on this one. By the bond, she knew he was alive and well and the general direction that he was in, but that was it. By the bond, he had to know that she was minutes away from unloading her paltry breakfast. With a chuckle at that thought, she moved onward.

 Stevan sighed, he had hoped Xyranthes would have been able to work quicker, not that it was his fault at all. Stevan looked at the crowd of Asha'man and Dragonsworn gathered around the portal stone. "We camp here for tonight," he said, addressing them, then added under his breath, "I wouldn't like to enter a new world in darkness." He nodded to the elderly librarian. "Thanks, I don't know what I'd do without you, Xyranthes."
Steve <><

 "Of course the heat is bad, Aramis. That is the reason Trollocs call it Djevik K'Shar, which means 'the dying ground.'"  Aramis listened with interest at Xyranthes' reply to his hasty question just before the teams began the transfer from Andor into the waste. Aramis decided to make sure to prove the "Waste Heat Theory," so he made a quick trip back to a certain building on Tower grounds and came back with a small bundle in his coat pocket... *** You know, the man was right. It's bleedin' hot. Not that Aramis had ever had any doubts about the accuracy of what he had been told, but for something this unpleasant a person just couldn't be told; they had to feel.  Aramis laughed. They all stood in a group waiting for orders. He still had to find something out for certain. So he removed the bundle from his pocket and unwrapped the cloth from around its contents. It didn't take too long for the results to show. They smelled like breakfast.  "You're mad, Aramis," said Stevan over his shoulder. "Only a loon would fry eggs and bacon on the rocks in the middle of the waste." And sure enough, the two eggs and slab of bacon were sizzling nicely on the rocks. Yes, Aramis might be a loon, but they were on a mission again, and that's all that mattered.

It felt, ... wrong. Like a void had been gouged in the small of his back, annoying, not painful, but just, ... empty. Xyranthes stopped himself just short of touching the place where his backpack held the small black box. For the hundredth time, since leaving it behind in the Black Tower, Xyranthes felt the loss, and again stopped himself from placing his hand there to make sure everything was fine. It was important, bringing anything forged by or used in conjunction with the One Power could easily offset the delicate crossing between the Portal Stones. La'rece was the only other member of the Tower who had an Angreal in their possession, hopefully no one else did.  Again, Xyranthes was shocked at the coldness in his voice when he had spoken to her. Usually he was so soft-spoken, but the Aes Sedai twisted his insides in a way the old Cairheinian was shocked by. He would make it up to her soon.  But not now. Timing was incredibly important, and the weaves had to be just right or the Tower would be sent into some far off place and never know they where in the wrong place till it was too late. Mixing Air and Water where hard enough for the nobleman, water being his weakest of the five, but to add the other problems was nearly maddening. Air density and pressure had to be just right. Increasing the oxygen by 12%, alter the water vapor in area to match the records, attune the air at the molecular level to perfect the small pink disk that spun before him, just so, there was a lot to keep up with.  Mathematics was a pain, it always had been. Xyranthes had even left most of the accounts to his wife, choosing to work with the physical rather than the theoretical aspect of math. Yet here he was, calculating air densities and water vapor content, trying to create a small disk of Creation atmosphere. Xyranthes looked at the horizon, just a little less than half an hour, and then the sun would begin to set.  Light, let this work.
Peter
<><

 Ariana heard the others griping or moaning about the heat, but she couldn't figure it out. It was hot, yes, hotter than anything they were used to, but at least the humidity was next to nothing. When she learned that it would take, at the least, two hours to actually get any further, she decided the sensible thing to do would be go find a shady spot and wait.  She had never prided herself on her sensibility. The Healer promptly found a sun-heated red rock and spread out on it, enjoying the dry air and brilliant sunshine. She squinted at the glare reflected from the lake and pulled her long hair over her face to keep her pale skin from burning, then closed her eyes and dozed in the sun. Not far from where she lay, she could hear the librarian and Stevan speaking, and then some mumbling about Portal Stones, Powers, and numbers in a rather archaic accent. Portat stones, hmm, she thought, her curiosity piqued despite her drowsiness. There's something I never thought I'd be around, much less using. That thought prompted another. I hope this works! I'd hate to end up in, say, the Mountains of Mist or something. Or worse. That thought inspired a shudder despite the heat which pressed her against the smooth stone. Oh, Light, I hope this works!
 Okay, there's the opinion of a true desert-born girl! Phoenix rocks! :)
So long as it's a DRY heat, I don't care if it hits 122- which it has, before. Heat is a GOOD thing! :::laughs::: ~E

 Myiona sighed as Stevan announced they were going to the Waste. She would be content to stay at the tower, sleep in her own bed, and take a bath daily. Missions always seemed to be dirty, filled with battle, and too long. She looked around at the group of ladies and tried to put on a brave front. The first dragonsworn walked around talking quietly with the girls who seemed the most upset about the mission.  Mura'shar stepped up behind her as Stevan opened the portal. Myiona found herself one of the first people going through. The heat was intense and she was grateful that she knew how to ignore the heat. La'rece, out of sympathy for the novitiates, had caused a fine mist to surround the tower members.  The First Dragonsworn was talking quietly with Alcinia, who was being disciplined for her act of "justice" in the Domani village. Myiona insisted that the Mayene girl wear dresses for the next two weeks, something she hoped would make her slow down long enough to think before acting. Alcinia was clearly not happy and was sulking. The Domani made a point of telling the young woman that her pout was quite attractive and some of the men would enjoy seeing it. Laughing, Myiona stepped away to speak with someone else.  When La'rece joined the group, Myiona sensed a certain stiffness in her stance that seemed to indicate something was bothering her. It was not the proper place to discuss her problems, but she intended to speak with the Arafellan as soon as she had the chance.
Vicky
aka Myiona

 Alan walked through the gateway...the opressive heat hit him like a sledge hammer. He wiped his forehead, and was almost shocked when it came away with no sweat before he realized that he didnt sweat anymore. With a grim smile he continued walking until he came abreast of the portal stone. It seemed very complex, and Alan was relieved when Steven called for the members of the Black Tower to pitch camp. Alan went around helping people out. Finally as everything was ready he went into his own tent, and sat down on his cot. Another man walked in, Alan stood up and went over to him and said, "Hello, my name is Alan al Daren, it seems we are tent mates."  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
anyone feel free to jump in....i know it is short, but i am on limited time at the moment :) i hope this email sees everyone well, and i'll check ya later
 joe

 Surely, Shea thought, staring into the powdery blue sky, the Creator never intended anything, anything, on Earth to be like this.  Oh, she knew. Knew that the Creator had had far less a hand in creating  the Aiel Waste than Lews Therin Telamon and his 100 Companions. But she also knew that the Breaking of the World had been done under the terrible influence of tainted saidin, and Shea also knew that saidin had been tainted by the Dark One's touch. In a very real way, the Waste was the work of the Dark One.  Being on this mission with, and at the mercy of, a whole bloody organizati on of men dealing with that same rancid taint every moment they channeled, didn't particularly help Shea's mood.  But then, she reflected, what would, really? Her eyes hurt from the sun.  Her blonde hair was probably lightening as she sat there, and her skin...she didn't want to think about her skin.  Shea was, in a word, pink.  Bitterly she cursed her parents for being responsible for producing such a fairhaired, fair-skinned, pale creature as herself. The sun and she did not get along. By the time she'd realized, from the odd looks she kept getting, that her face had gone all rosy on her, and had gone into the shade and taken steps to relieve the flush she was experiencing from the heat, the sunburn had set in, brutally so. Besides being a totally ludicrous shade of pink, the burn was horribly painful, and irritated by the flimsy white cotton shirt she wore beneath her black wool coat. When she'd attempted to avoid some of the heat by just not wearing the coat, despite uniform regulations, the coolness had been refreshing, and allowed her to get some sword-practice done. ..until she'd gone back in the tent to change out of her sweaty shirt and discovered that she had gotten sunburned through the white, and was nearly as pink on her back and entire torso as she was on her face.  Fine. Shea gave up, put on the fresh shirt, buttoned up her stuffy coat, and went back outside. Just because she looked as though she'd been swimming in a pot of boiling water for the past three hours was no reason to ignore her duties as an Initiate, and with those completed, she sat down defiantly on a large rock, and watched the sun descend over the unimaginably barren wasteland. The sky now was a dazzling blend of purple, periwinkle, cerulean, and, yes, even pink.  Shea leaned back and laughed. There wasn't a shade in the whole lot that could even hope to compete with hers. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*
A certain lover of pink I know would be welcome to jump in should they so > desire. So would anybody, for that matter. ;)  Shea Vironda,  Initiate giving new meaning to the term "desert rose"
a.k.a.
Rae,
Redhead who knows all too well the sorrow of (fair skin + calor fatal)
Who RPs mainly to shock people that she's still alive :?

 Raileine had just taken her turn through the gateway, and she wasn't liking the experience at all. *How in the flaming world can Elysa even bloody create those things!* She told herself, grabbing her skirts and tromping off towards where the rest of the Black Tower members were waiting. *This trip better be worth it, or I'll bloody well throw something flaming.. grr!*  The heat slowed Raileine down with her work as Novitiate. She frowned, what she was wearing would be enough to make her loose 30lbs in weight. *How do the bloody Aiel live like this?* She asked herself, trying to move around with the bulky coat. She dared not to take it off. Raileine may not burn that well, but she didn't want to have the leathery skin and dark complexion of the Aiel when she returned home to Andor.  It was getting late, and the sun was being dashed by magnificant colors, though all Raileine could think about was the shade that would acompnay the setting sun. In the whole desolate place, Raileine had scourage for one speck of shade, but found none. She took a short walk and found one of the Initiats sitting near a rock. Walking up to her she stiffled a childlike laugh (though she was well into her 30s). Shea had been sunburned badly, and Rai had to feel for her.  "You look.. pink." She said sitting down besides her. "Guess you learned your lesson. Either you sweat like a pig, or your turn into the color of a pig. Your choice, I prefer sweating, maybe I can loose some of the flab I've gained as a Librarian!" She laughed softly. "So, I'm Raileine Topire, a Novitiate, and you are Shea..." Rai trailed off with a nice smile.  A certain lover of pink I know would be welcome to jump in should they so desire. So would anybody, for that matter. ;) PINK!!!!!!!!!!!!!  ::would be that certain pink lover:: I LOVE PINK!! ::dazed look::  - Jamie
Raileine Topire
Pinky!  I LOVE PINK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Pink pink pink pink pink ... mmmm... piiiiiink

 The hot wind blew down from the mountains and into the valley where the tower members were gathered, ready to use the portal stone. Tareena glanced around, wondering if anyone else was feeling as aprenhisive as she was.  Knowing what a portal stone did and actually using one were two different things. She had confidence in Xyranthes, knew that the old Asha'man would have more knowledge than anyone else about its use, but still, that didn't still the fluttering of her stomach.  With a sigh, she focused her attention on Xyranthes, who was giving out instructions. She said a silent prayer to the creator and waited for what would happen next.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------  --------------------
 OOC:: Okay, I realize this was short but I wasn't sure who was going to use the stone. Is it going to be one person taking everyone, like Rand did, or do we all have to use it individually? I suggest that someone make a decision and step up and do it and let's get this show on the road!! Steve?  Peter? You guys seem to be in charge of this stone, how are we going to use it? I am anxious to get into the heart of this RP because we have a lot of cool things planned! Take care everyone :)
Lisa

 Myiona began organizing the women as soon as Stevan announced they would camp there for the night. While the men began setting up tents, she had the women begin preparing food and filling water skins.  After they finished that task, she had them all go inside one of the tents so they could get out of the sun. The tents were stifling, but she had noticed some of the women were getting sun burned. Myiona stretched out upon one of the mats and closed her eyes for a moment.  "Myiona," she heard someone at the tent opening calling her name, "I need to speak with you." Tareena came inside pulling the flap closed behind her.  The First sat up and motioned for Tareena to sit down. "What is it?" Myiona asked.

 For the last few hours Xyranthes sat gloomily in the grassy bay gazing at the stone, or out west through the narrow opening. He had a queer feeling he was waiting for something.  If he lifted his head he could see a glimpse of the distant Rhuidean lake.  As the sun turned west there was a gleam of yellow upon it's far surface, as if the light caught the last ripples. Soon he saw the orange ball of the sun sinking towards the level of his eyes. Gazing out to the horizon, there, pale and faint was a thin new moon above the rim of the earth. He went to the stone, paced out the correct measurements, and opened himself to Saidin. A strange washing sensation crept from deep within, bubbling to the surface of his mind. It felt, ... odd, probably due to using the source without the Angreal as both a shield and an aid. Above, just placed at the proper alignment with the last fading light from the sun, a rosy pink disk of air formed, becoming a lens. Angle, distance, height, mathematics, all perfect in form and function, and now harmonious with their purpose. Calling out to the other members of the Tower Xyranthes kept his hold on the weaves tight, not daring to let them slip. Many of the members of the Black Tower gathered about the aging nobleman, waiting expectantly. They all fell silent: the old Cairheinian standing by the gray stone, and his brothers and sisters of the Tower watching impatiently. The sun sank lower and lower, and their hopes fell. It sank into a belt of reddening clouds and disappeared. Steven groaned, but still Xyranthes stood almost without moving. The little moon was dipping to the horizon. Evening was coming on. Then suddenly when their hope was lowest a red ray of the sun escaped like a finger through the cloud. A gleam of light came straight through the opening, into the opening and fell on the small disk of air. From deep in the center of the disk, a narrow beam of light lanced out, and struck the stone. Nearby an old thrush, who had been watching from a high perch with beady eyes and head cocked to one side, gave a sudden trill. There was a loud crack. Pale light suffused the stone, each of the etchings and diagrams glimmering with an inner light. For a moment, the wind blasted and eroded stone seemed grander, more majestic than it was.  Now three spans high and a full pace thick, the hundreds, or thousands of eroded markings now looking deeply etched, new. The stone shimmered with a new polished look, defying anyone to guess as to it's true age. And outshining all the other diagrams, one marking shown brighter and with a clearer light than all the others. Two figures, crouched under a triangle, facing inwards. The Tower had their beacon, they knew where the last party of travelers had gone.  (Note, the above is mostly quoted from one of the greatest books ever written, 10 points to the one who can identify it, and no, it's not Jordan)
Peter
<><

 You look.. pink." She said sitting down besides her. "Guess you learned your lesson. Either you sweat like a pig, or your turn into the color of a pig. Your choice, I prefer sweating, maybe I can loose some of the flab I've gained as a Librarian!" She laughed softly. "So, I'm Raileine Topire, a Novitiate, and you are Shea..." Rai trailed off with a nice smile.  "Shea Vironda," she said, extending Raileine a friendly hand and smiling. " Initiate, but not for so long that the novelty hasn't worn off yet." Shea grinned and fondly rubbed her sword pin, as she did daily for maximum shine.  "I'm from Andor, more or less...You are a librarian? Were, I mean -- I * was* a girl unnaturally suited for martial arts, but now I'm just another member of the Black Tower, one of the many Dragonsworn women, joined together by a single cause -- in name, at least." Though Raileine probably couldn't see the subtle motion, Shea momentarily arched an eyebrow, thinking about her own reasons for becoming Dragonsworn. Her cause had more to the effect of  anything but the White Tower;' however, she could admit that over time, her feelings for the organization in which she served had grown immensely. Shea relaxed her eyebrow, because despite the dignified look it gave her, should anybody be able to see it, it also hurt her face to stretch the burned skin. Quite abruptly, as was her practice, the Initiate switched subjects. "Where were you a librarian? Are you a true scholar, or just a book lover? Do you miss those days? Or did you truly join because you wanted to? Please be frank; I'll be the first to admit that my motive for joining was less than noble."
~Rae/Shea
In a big rush so forgive the minimal sense involved in this pathetic excuse for an RP... :/

 The next morning the whole Black Tower stood gathered around the stone, fanning themselves in the already blistering heat. The sun had only just crept above the horizon, illuminating the distant rugged mountains below it in an array of reds and oranges. Stevan stood nearest to the portal stone, listening to Xyranthes explaining to him how to work the stone. The librarian pointed to a symbol on the top half of the stone, which was a triangle with two figures crouched underneath it, pointing inwards. "That's the symbol you must focus on. Form it behind the void, and let the rush of saidin flow into it." Stevan turned to Xyranthes. "Why don't you just do it? You're much more likely to get it right than I am." He was getting agitated by the constant mutterings of advice, but he was also more than slightly nervous. This was something he had never done before, and one mistake could mean the death of many. Xyranthes sighed. "I'm afraid you're far more suited to this than I, Stevan. I'm a little exhausted after last night, and being rather old I'm not as strong physically than you are. This needs someone with physical strength as well as strength in the Power, to try and hold out until we reach our destination." "But are you sure I'm strong enough in the One Power?" Xyranthes stared at Stevan. "If you're not strong enough, then neither are most of the people here, and you also are one of the most experienced channellers. And we discussed linking earlier. It's not an option. You could risk it, but I have no record in my books of anyone passing through a portal stone while being linked. I like to try to be as safe as possible." Stevan bowed his head. He knew Xyranthes was right, and the more poor excuses he used, the more pathetic he appeared. He raised his head, took a deep breath, and turned around to address his comrades. "We shall go through now. Everyone please huddle as close as you can to the stone." The former mutterings ceased, and an eerie, fearful silence fell over the group as they moved closer and closer together. Stevan was now right next to the stone, staring at the symbol. He inhaled sharply, then formed the flame in his mind, consuming all emotion, leaving nothing, until saidin. Saidin rushed through him, and at that moment he let the symbol form in his mind. The symbol seemed to form itself; the stone took control, and the saidin was drawn towards it, sucked into it. At that moment when the two met, a great power overcame Stevan and he gasped. Almost involuntarily, he was drawing more and more saidin to feed the symbol's great hunger. Closer and closer he was drawn to his limit; power was needed to sustain the symbol, sustain the transportation. His eyes were closed, clenched shut, and then... He gasped as saidin was taken away from him, and he reeled backwards and fell onto the floor. Pain and exhaustion washed over him, and the feeling of nausea continued, the continuation of the Taint when you had channelled too much of the Power for too long. Around him he heard voices, one he thought was like Myiona's. "I don't believe it...it's another world..." And another, this time it sounded like Caballein. "And it looks as if we've arrived at sunset..." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ -------------------------------------------- We're in the new world! From now on follow the outline. We camp in Rhuidean (which still has cloud surrounding it in this world) tonight, so someone take us on down there! As a side note, some of you may wonder why I didn't have the experience that Rand had, of possible lives being shown to me as I passed through the worlds. Well, after reading that chapter I thought that it only happened because there was a surge in the OP from Rand - in other words, he channelled too much! Earlier, when he went from Selene's world to the true world, he didn't have that experience (probably because he was less experienced in the power). I gathered that as I could only just muster enough strength to get us into this world, I wouldn't have a surge in the OP to have us passing through others! Some of you may disagree though. What do you experts think? Nature? :)
Steve
<><

 Stevan gathered everyone as close to the Portal Stone as they could manage.  Mura'shar took Myiona's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. She returned the squeeze as they tried not to look nervous for the rest of the Tower. They knew that only Xyranthes knew much of anything about Portal Stones. And even he had no firsthand experience with them.  Stevan and Xyranthes spoke quietly for a few minutes, then Stevan examined the symbols on the Stone. Mura'shar felt saidin seized and channeled. Then more saidin was channeled, and more. More than Mura'shar could handle unaided. Stevan must be drawing as much as he could safely to activate the Stone. Maybe more than that.  A sense of vertigo assaulted Mura'shar. There was a sense of movement without moving. Like he was standing still and the rest of the world was moving all around him. Just as abruptly, it stopped.  Mura'shar shook off the dizziness and looked around. Everything seemed more or less the same. It was hot as ever, at least. But somehow it was less real. The colors of the earth and sky weren't quite the same as his own world. It was more washed-out and faded like well-worn cloth. He wondered what that meant.  "I don't believe it...it's another world..." Myiona was as awestruck as he.  "We made it" he whispered. They were in an entirely new world. Who knew how similar, or different, it would be from his own? Who knew which would be more frightening?  "Mura'shar" Myiona whispered back to him "Look"  Myiona, and much of the rest of the Tower, were facing the other way, back towards Rhuidean. Instead of the great city there was a huge opaque fog bank covering the area. There was no sign of the lake.  It was getting late. Sunset was fast approaching. Stevan ordered the Black Tower into the fog and hopefully Rhuidean before dark. There were a few grumble that there was no certainty that the city even existed in this world, but they complied.  The fog cloud was a welcome relief from the heat of the Aiel Waste. The water soon soaked through Mura'shar's shirt and plastered his hair to his scalp. Now he was wiping water from his face like it was sweat. He could see a few sunburn victims sigh in relief as they entered the fog.  The city existed. It was as grand as ever. Perhaps more so. The city was perfectly intact, unlike the one in Mura'shar's world, where repairs seemed to be taking place. In ones and twos the Black Tower popped out of the fog bank and into the city. They gaped at being so close to such a marvel. A few wanted to explore immediately. But cooler heads prevailed. They would make camp tonight and begin exploring the city tomorrow.  After making sure the rest of the Storm Team was on its way towards settling in, Mura'shar found an out of the way place to pitch a tent. He then crawled inside and began peeling off his soaked clothing. For now he just wanted to get some sleep. Pulling on a dry pair of pants, he lay down in his bedroll and tried to fall asleep. As he drifted off, he wondered if this was a world so very different from his own that he was never born, or if he was, what would he be like?
Jake
Marked Asha'man

 A scream. A feign. A scrape. Ly'dara twisted her body around in time to find herself face to face with the Sh'Baon. A small nod of Ly'dara's head was the little acknowledgement that her ruler recieved from the small Ayyad. "Yes, mistress?" Ly'dara had been one of the chosen to searve the Sh'baon for her 7 year period as the ruler of the Sharans. She was a strong woman, both mentally, physcially and with her powers. Most dared not to cross her path, which embodied the paths of all Ayyad and the Sh'baon, her mistress.  "There's a distruption in one of the ports, that the Ayyad and I think you should see to. A channeler has touched our shores, she's one of the Sea Folk, I want her away from Shara, dead or alive." Ly'dara's anger flared at the thought. Only a half witted idiot would bring a channeler onto Sharan grounds. Another bow of Ly'dara's head sent her off towards the center of the room.  "It will be as my mistress commands." A gateway flashed open in front of Ly’dara and the Ayyad stepped through.. and onto a streat of the main port on Shara. She had enough time to turn before a voice called out through the stillness of the night. Guards up, Ly'dara spotted the woman. "Ah-ha! I thought I felt the presence of a channeler." Ly'dara turned around to face the Sea Folk woman. She glared and started stepping back into the Arch, forgetting her weaves, and having an urge to get out of there. {They must know of this, they must} She repeated to herself.  "Come here, I just have some ques--" Ly'dara dashed for the gateway and fell through. She was knocked uncouncious quickly and then when she awoke with a start. The suroundings weren't Sharan, Ly'dara's scream caught in her throat. {I've not made it back to the hold.. I'm.. I'm..} Shock overtook the woman's body and she collapsed in a faint.  With the last awakening Ly'dara took the moment to search the premisis. It was not Shara. She felt lost, and she knew if she were to return, she'd be killed for leaving the lands. Her love for Shara and her life came between her and re-opening the gateway. A wave of fear washed over Ly'dara as she started off in the direction of the setting sun, a long long way from home.  The walk ended up being an abbrieveated one. Ly'dara appraoched a small encampment, her guards down from the tiredness that had set over the Ayyad. A smash to the head crumpled her to the group and as she was in a semi-conscious state of mind. what did you do that for do what for smash her up like that the dragon told us not to touch any visitors she looked hostile she  doesnt look hostile to me leave her there lets get out of here well get in trouble if we dont i dont care about trouble its the matter of the girl i wont leave her here me neither well i would thats you go back and well report you for harrasment to her she looks foriegn then all the better all the better for what we can learn from her you woolhead ok ok help me lift her.  There was a brief moment when Ly'dara fell off completely but her eyes were open then when she came back the voices carried on, she couldn't tell them apart what did you do to her i didnt do anything you did something nothing i tell you and she got the bumb all by herself thats how we found her no it isnt yes it is you just want to get me in trouble again you flaming soldiers shut up i need to check her out shes not seanchan not sea folk the only thing that looks this foreign is what is is what is a shara no it cant be or surely it can but they never leave well find out when shes awake i dont want to find out Then Ly'dara slipped off again.  When she awoke there was a motherly face around her that was taking care of her. Ly'dara almost crawled off the cot and ran for her life. Through the next few days Ly'dara was healed in return of her story. They asked for information on her country, though they recieved non. Ly'dara had drilled a tight wall around the thoughts of her home country. With the knowledge of her channeling power they told her about their own land, and Tower. It was called the Black Tower, something that Ly'dara had read about in the Sh'Baon's notes.  She listened to them ramble on and then offer her an entrance if she swore fealty to the Dragon. Ly'dara did so and then was immediatly brought off with the group on their expedition to the Aiel Waste. {Home.. oh no! what if they mess up? What if they bring me back to Shara? What would I do then?} Ly'dara hugged herself and followed closely to the middle of the group. She knew no one with them, but kept in the middle, hopping not to loose sight of them and be dragged home.  "Rhuidein.. but wasn't that something from the stories?" She asked softly at the mention of the old clouded city. Though no one heard her. The little Ayyad kept to herself, but followed the group, with a loyalty about her. ....l..y..'..d..a..r..a..... ooc: hiya, I'm Lynne, I just wanted to say hi (and thank Jamie-love for the idea of the semi-concscious mess that I used in my RP) anyways, thanks for letting me in and I'm sure I'll love to RP. As well I don't use my AOL except for mail, but my AIM name = LynneWhite99

 What he noticed first was the light. It wasn't like sunlight, and it wasn't like torch light, or lamps or candles, or any other light they had ever seen.  It was a dull, rather red light, not at all cheerful. It was steady and did not flicker. They where standing on a flat paved surface with the buildings of Rhuidean in front of them, or at least Xyranthes assumed they rose within the massive cloud that covered where the city should be. Xyranthes glanced up.  The sky was extraordinarily dark- a blue that was almost black. When he say that sky, Xyranthes wondered that there should be any light at all.  "It's very funny weather here," said Xyranthes. "I wonder if we've arrived just in time for a thunder storm or an eclipse."
"To the city, we'd best not get stuck out in the open at night." Steven ordered, and the tower moved to the fog covered city.  "I think we should scout out the city, make sure we are alone." Rengar said, as they made camp in one of the courtyards.  "No, it's too dangerous to split up now with the day nearly gone." Xyranthes replied. "Posting sentries would be safer, and in the morning we can have a look about the city." Steven advised. And so it was settled. Steven selected several of the members to stand watch first, while the rest of the tower finished with the camp.  (Yet another quote from yet another of the greatest authors to ever live. 25 points to the one who correctly identifies the author, 10 additional points for any one who can identify the book and 15 points for the page number.)
Peter
<><

 The whole place was dusty, as though the wind had never blown through the streets. Aramis tried to imagine the throngs of people that had never walked between these buildings. The slab-sided palaces and builidings had an exotic look, like the architects had a grander scheme in mind but were limited by the stone, or perhaps the lack of something else. The whole place gave him the creeps. A dead, lifeless city.  It wan't like he hadn't seen deserted cities before. Shorelle had been dead since the Breaking when the Maelstrom first tread upon it's streets. But Shorelle was part of the real world, and real people had once lived there.  True, the place had been overrun with Shadow-wrought, and Aramis had lost his right hand on that mission, but still, there had been a sense of reality.  He had the impression here that if he held a pebble up to the sunlight he would be able to see right through it.  Then he heard the voices.  It sounded almost like an echo of the Storm Team, but whispered instead of spoken. Or maybe it could have been the wind... but there was no wind here.  Light was fading fast. Sentries were being posted, camp made for the evening. Aramis checked his pockets to ensure he had an ample supply of Tabac.  He wanted to stay up for the night; at the very least he could take a nap tomorrow. At the very worst, an extra Asha'man would be awake if an attack came in the night. He went to find Stevan, to talk this out.  Hopefully, everyone else would be able to sleep tonight.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
James aka Aramis
It wasn't me! it was the one-armed... nevermind.

 At first, as the group passed through the portal stone, Ariana didn't see much difference from where they had been. Only the sure knowledge that this was a different place kept her from thinking that the Cairhienin might have messed up and returned them all to where they started. Now wouldn't that be lovely? We go through all that and end up where we started! Then she noticed that the glimmering lake was nowhere in sight. So. A different place indeed.  As they went on, another difference came to her; the light was faintly reddish, like that of brilliant sunset, but unlike a sunset it didn't change or fade away. She looked up at the sky, and shuddered. The light transformed the wispy cirrus clouds. It makes the sky look like a curtain of blood, she thought uneasily, as though the ether bled and the clouds absorbed it like bandages. Then she forced herself to laugh mentally at her Healer's metaphor. There was no sense in letting something as distant and unthreatening as the sky bother her. There was far more chance of attack from creatures on the ground than from the color of the light. At least, she told herself so...  Gradually the sky became deep midnight blue, nearly pitch black- but the eerie light remained. Up ahead of her, Ariana saw more than one of the Tower members shudder. She agreed with them, but had to focus on hearing what was being decided.  "I think we should scout out the city, make sure we are alone." Rengar said, as they made camp in one of the courtyards.  "No, it's too dangerous to split up now with the day nearly gone." Xyranthes replied. "Posting sentries would be safer, and in the morning we can have a look about the city." Steven advised. And so it was settled. Steven selected several of the members to stand watch first, while the rest of the tower finished with the camp.  Ariana had volunteered to watch later, so she would have enough time to help set up camp with the others and make sure she had all the supplies that she would need if there were an unexpected attack. When her turn at watch finally came, she snatched up her bamboo staff before taking her position- and some food. A guard whose stomach growled louder than an attacking beast would be little use, she told herself. But there was no attack, at least, so far. The Healer stood facing outward from the camp's tents, listening intently and scanning the surroundings. She found herself wishing the odd light would change, or turn colors, or even leave; anything but this disturbingly steady carnadine glow. When she heard faint footsteps- two legs, running quickly, she snapped her mind back to her task and glanced around.  The oddest creature she had ever seen stood, head cocked, looking at her. It was at least as tall as she, most likely taller; the hide appeared leathery and its eyes were bright yellow. The neck its sleek head sat upon was long and supple, as was its tail. A bipedal lizard, was the first thing to pop into her head as they regarded each other warily. Ariana held herself perfectly still, not wishing to frighten it or provoke it, and definitely curious. The way it stood, regarding her unblinking, head tilted, made it look uncannily... intelligent. At length the odd creature chittered at her, something rapid and unintelligible, if indeed it was anything more than a squirrel's chattering. On impulse, the Healer whistled at it, trying to imitate its rising and falling pitch. It appeared startled, then bounded away from camp. Ariana released a huge sigh as it disappeared from sight over a low ridge. Whatever it was, it apparently was not out looking for dinner... the Healer maintained her vigil until her replacement came, but the animal (if animal it was) did not reappear. She limped toward her tent, quite ready to sleep, and wondering in the back of her mind if her interaction with the beast was a good sign or a bad one- on the one hand, it had left without attacking, so perhaps not all the things here were hostile.  On the other, it had shown no fear of humans whatsoever, so if they encountered other- and possibly more hungry- creatures, they would probably not be afraid either. With mixed feelings she crawled into her bed and settled to sleep as much as she could. Outside, the red light lingered on the tent wall, and the Healer tossed restlessly in her sleep. A reptilian head poked briefly from behind a concealing ridge in the landscape, an almost curious expression in its bright eyes, then ducked back down again before the sentry could see it.  Ok, sorry if that was long, but I've been so busy with this essay every night thing that I really felt bad for neglecting everyone here. So- there's my Dinotopia-influenced contribution. (I love the illustrations in that book!  and the idea...) I have no idea if the dino-thing is sentient, or carnivorous, or even important, but it does establish that there's life here, and I liked the ending... Anyway, let's all go and have fun! And try not to get pummeled too badly... :)
~Ariana Kantori
Aes Sedai of the Yellow Ajah, and
Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 Myiona was glad that Mura'shar stayed by her side during the trip by portal stone. The first glimpse of the new world was unsettling and she hated to feel uneasy about anything. The fog startled her, since there had been no fog in their world.  The first dragonsworn found herself sharing a tent with La'rece and was pleased that they could continue their new friendship. Myiona went inside and rolled out her sleeping mat. The trip had left her feeling restless and nervous. When she fell asleep, if was not surprising that her dreams were filled with eerie images and a feeling of being watched. People were stepping in and out of the fog bank, but she could never see them clearly enough to tell who they were.  Myiona awoke and looked around the tent. La'rece was sleeping soundly and the Domani woman felt foolish for being so uneasy. Still, she did not think she could go to sleep again, at least not here and now. She walked through the camp and found herself standing outside a tent, knowing that her  bondmate slept inside.  Myiona stepped inside and looked at him sleeping. He was muttering something in his sleep and his sleep seemed as troubled as her own. She walked over quietly and laid down beside him hoping that she could sleep more easily by Mura'shar's side. As she listened to his breathing, Myiona drifted off to sleep again.
Vicky
aka Myiona

 Alcinia stood in the heat of the desert scowling. She was shocked when the First Dragonsworn had given her a punishment for dealing with the scum she had encountered in Arad Doman. The actual punishment left her even more shocked. The idea of spending so much time in a dress was unnatural to her. The whole portal stone experience made her feel like she had on the Seanchan ship they had taken from Mayene. Alcinia went away from the others and emptied her stomach.  That night the Mayene had volunteered for two sessions of sentry duty. She knew that sleep would be impossible as tense as she felt. While standing her sentry, she sighed and stared off into the night wondering how blasted long this mission would take. It seemed that everyday proved to her how much she did not belong at the Black Tower. The inability to make friends among the women and men had not gone unnoticed by Alcinia. She knew that eventually she would have to leave and find a place where she belonged. She kept putting off leaving because she was afraid of being all alone again, but she was still all alone at the tower.  Someone came up and tapped her on the shoulder. "You should get some rest," they said. "I will take the rest of the night."
"Whatever," Alcinia said turning to walk back toward the tents. She stepped inside one of the tents assigned to the women, found an empty sleeping mat, and laid there thinking about the dangers ahead of her for the rest of the night.

 It had been a long, arduous day made more so by the blazing sun. Heat had seemed to envelope every inch of the place. Now, inside the domed city, there was still a presence of heat, but not the intense scorching inferno they had passed through before entering the fog. Now, with what La'rece thought was  night, the environment was more tolerable.  Despite her exhaustion, the Dragonsworn was unable to sleep, but rather laid abed with her eyes closed breathing evenly. Hearing Myiona enter the tent and knowing that the First Dragonsworn would want to rest after the day's events, La'rece feigned sleep so as not to keep her friend awake with idle chat.  When Myiona turned and left the tent again, La'rece sat up wondering what might be bothering the Domani. *Well, apparently neither of us is going to get much sleep this evening ... or whatever it is. Might was well make yourself useful, woman!*   La'rece stepped out of the tent and made herway over to Alcinia who was keeping the watch. The young woman looked as worn out as the Dragonsworn felt.  Smiling, La'rece said "you should get some rest. I'll take the rest of the night."  With a nod, Alcinia replied, "Whatever" and headed off to her tent.  Leaning against a broken pillar, La'rece pulled out her pipe and tabac. Her sword was back in her tent, but she wasn't concerned. She could feel the wards that protected the perimeter of the camp. Taking a draw on the carved pipe, the Arafellan blew out a stream of scented smoke. With the sweet scent of the tabac in the air, the Dragonsworn hummed softly to herself and hoped the night wouldn't seem interminable.
Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 The stone shimmered with a new polished look, defying anyone to guess as to it's true age. And outshining all the other diagrams, one marking shown brighter and with a clearer light than all the others. Two figures, crouched under a triangle, facing inwards. The Tower had their beacon, they knew where the last party of travelers had gone.  Tareena stood in silent wonder, watching the beacon light their pathway on the portal stone. Deep in her heart, she didn't really believe that it was going to work. She had been wrong. Her respect for the old Asha'man climbed to a new level. Turning to go, she heard her name, low and urgent, being whispered. Unobtrusively looking around, she spied Luthar motioning to her and then start down a trail, leading behind where everyone has set up their tents. As quickly as possible she followed, making sure no one was observing her. Furtively looking around, Luthar began by apologizing for summoning her in such a manner. Tareena brushed his apologies aside and asked him to hurry. She wanted no one to come across them. It was imperative that no one connect her with the Soldier standing before her.  Luthar had willingly agreed to spy for her, that much was true, but she did not even want to think of the consequences of his being ferreted out by his fellow brothers.  "I thought you should be aware, I overheard two Asha'man speaking of Myiona, you know, the ones who gave her trouble on the training field?" She quickly nodded yes. " They plan on ambushing her when she is away from Mura'shar, to punish her fro getting them into so much trouble. I thought you would want to know."  After thanking him for the information, Luthar melted into the shadows.  Some might think him old and not worth much but Tareena recognized calculated movements when she saw them. If need be, Luthar could be as graceful as a cat and more silent than an Aiel tracking game. Tareena realized that she had been standing there for quite some time. Gathering herself up she set off for the next logical place, Myiona's tent.  Tareena entered the tent, grateful to have found her friend alone.  Myiona asked her to sit down, motioning to a spot beside her. Tareena took a deep breath, hoping to settle her heaving stomach. Tonight, she could not blame it on sickness. She was afraid to tell Myiona, that was the simple truth. Her friend's temper was notorious and she would not put it past Myiona to march immediately to the two men and jerk knots in their tales. Or the equivalent there of. Tareena forced herself to meet the 1st Dragonsworns eyes and began to relate to her what information she had gathered. Before she got more than two words into it however, the tent flap opened and several novitiates and initiates came into the tent. Realizing that she could not just blurt it out in front of everyone, she started to ask Myiona to accompany her outside. That, to, was thwarted when several of the girls clamored for her immediate attention. Laughing, Myiona shrugged and told Tareena she would speak with her later.  Frustrated, Tareena left the tent and returned to her own. They would be using the stone in the morning and she wanted to get what little sleep the night had left for her.  The morning left no opportunity to speak with Myiona. The group gathered around the stone and watched expectantly as Stevan stepped up and began the process that would take them into another world. Seconds or hours  later, to Tareena it felt like her whole insides were trying to become outsides. Not bothering to take a look around nor stop to listen to everyone exclaim over the fog surrounding Rhuidean, Tareena quickly but quietly  slipped away to empty the meager contents of her stomach. She had been telling herself that she just had a bug and it would work itself out but she had been feeling rotten for days. Maybe she needed to go and visit Ariana.  When things settled down, she would give it a shot. In the meantime, the group was heading down into the city for the night. All she wanted to do was crawl into her blankets and sleep for days. Maybe then she would feel human again. Maybe.

 Mura'shar was plagued by nightmares for most of the night.  He saw
himself performing terrible acts of cruelty to innocent victims, while
shadowy figures hid in the shadows and murmured their approval.  He
tried to
tell himself to stop, to look at the pain he was causing, but all he
heard
was laughter from the dream.
    He was on the verge of waking up when he felt a calming presence in
his
mind.  Peace washed over him, and his dream faded as he drifted into
dreamless sleep.
    The next morning Mura'shar woke refreshed.  He sat up, and saw
Myiona
next to him, still asleep.  Mura'shar was a bit startled, but wasn't
about to
complain.
    She looked so peaceful he decided to let her sleep a bit longer.
He
arranged the blankets so they were more comfortable.  He dressed
quietly, and
gave Myiona a quick kiss before leaving the tent.  He saw her lips
curve into
a smile before he turned away.
    Outside, Mura'shar got some breakfast and an extra plate for
Myiona.  He
was almost finished with his own when Myiona emerged.
    "Why did you let me sleep so late?" she asked as she took her food
form
Mura'shar
    "You looked like you needed it" he replied as he scanned the city.
Besides the Black Tower, it was totally deserted, like no one had ever
lived
here. He also noticed several Black Tower members seemed disturbed.
Alcinia
looked angry, though she'd looked that way ever since she started
wearing a
dress.  He thought about asking about that, but decided not to. Tareena
kept
shooting troubled looks towards himself and Myiona.  This whole place
was
making people paranoid.
    As they finished their breakfast, they discussed where they should
start
their search for clues.  They hammered out a basic plan for where to go
and
how long they should be gone and prepared to leave.

Jake
Marked Asha'man

 Rhuidean in the morning was not much different to Rhuidean at night, as the cloud blocked off much of the sunlight. However, it was lighter, and when Stevan dressed and got out of his tent, he was able to appreciate the beauty of the city much more. The buildings towered high, and were of a quality of stoneworking that even the Ogier couldn't match. Indeed, they were in a different age. After breakfast, Stevan issued the instructions to the Storm Teams. "Split into groups of two or three, and search the city for any sign of the thieves. However, do NOT confront them. You don't know how many there could be, and three of you against, say, ten of them doesn't seem like good odds to me. Also, if you see any ter'angreal, pick them up and bring them to the camp." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ -------------------------------------------- k, this is where the fun really starts! But if you don't know who to partner, then try and sort it out! If you're an Asha'man, then I'll try and pair you up with someone, or if you're a Dragonsworn then e-mail Vicky and ask her to give you a partner. Above all, don't be afraid to ask!
Steve
<><

 Myiona awoke late, hearing everyone else moving around and talking about the day ahead. "Why did you let me sleep so late?" she asked as she took her food from Mura'shar. "You looked like you needed it" he replied. She could tell he was distracted about the mission ahead, so the Domani just shrugged and walked away. After Stevan explained what they were going to be doing that day, Myiona noticed Tareena looking at her intently and remembered that there was something that the Seanchan wanted to talk to her about. Before anyone could ask for anything else, Myiona walked over to Tareena and the two women stepped into a tent to talk in private. "There is something I need to tell you," Tareena said quietly. "Those two who gave you and the novitiates a hard time before are wanting revenge. They have something planned for you. They are only waiting for a time to get you away from Mura'shar. I do not know what, but I wanted you to be aware of it." Myiona laughed. "Well, I suppose I will have to be careful." She looked at the serious expression on her friend's face. "I promise to stay in a group." "That is not enough," Tareena replied. "You need to tell Mura'shar and Stevan about this threat. Let the proper authority take care of it." "I will talk with Mura'shar," Myiona said, "but he can decide if the matter needs to be brought before Stevan or not. Don't worry about me. There is enough to worry about out there in the city." The two women left the tent, each going in different directions to find partners for the day.
Vicky
aka Myiona

 This is a long one, folks. You have been warned:) Mura'shar and Myiona headed towards the general center of the city. If this is the thieves original world, then it made sense that this was their first target, and thus the one where they wee most likely to have made mistakes. Maybe there would be clues where the ter'angreal were supposed to be stored. They couldn't help but gape at the city from time to time, despite Stevan's admonitions to be careful. The city was no caemlyn, or Cairhein, in terms of size. But this city seemed to be composed entirely of palaces! Glass, marble, and crystal was everywhere Every house had its own garden, or would have one if anything was planted. No lord would be ashamed to have to live in the lowliest neighborhood here. Myiona and Mura'shar ducked into a gangway between two buildings, hoping to find a shortcut. When Mura'shar stiffened. He felt something here, something made of saidin. Wait here he instructed Myiona, and proceeded forward cautiously. If there was a trap, only one of us should be endangered. He was halfway across the alley when saidin suddenly became a torrent. The trap has been sprung! "Get back he yelled at Myiona and channeled a wall of Air that shoved her all the way out into the street. Then he wove a shield about himself as explosions turned him end over end. Mura'shar didn't know where the wads were hidden. On the ground, in the walls, or a combination of the two. The explosions seemed to come from everywhere Mura'shar bounced, rolled and staggered towards one of the exits from this killing zone. He barely made it out before the large debris began falling. The two adjacent buildings had, in essence, become a single mass of stone and glass. The alley was gone. Mura'shar sensed Myiona was all right, if a little shaken up. He had nothing worse than few bumps and scrapes. He was lucky not to have any broken bones. A few tentative tests showed that he would have to find another way back to the main street and Myiona. Any attempt to shift the debris will only cause further collapse, perhaps this time burying him. Mura'shar was about to call out to Myiona, to see if she could hear him and get a message back to camp, when he spotted a dark figure heading in his direction. He melted into the shadows and watched the figure made its way to the ruined buildings and gazed at them for a moment. The figure seemed to be cursing. Mura'shar couldn't see the figures face, but he was fairly certain this was no member of the Black Tower. No one else was operating in this area of the city. He crept closer, to get a better look at hi potential quarry. The figure sensed his approach, and seized saidin as he drew his sword. Mura'shar did likewise. They both started and stepped back as they recognized each other, for they wee the same person! "Who...who are you" demanded Mura'shar" "I am Mera'shar, Marked Asha'man of the Black Tower, Baijan'm'hael of Storm Team Maelstrom! Who are you" demanded the stranger. Mera'shar? "I am Mura'shar, Marked Asha'man of the Black Tower, Baijan'm'hael of Storm Team Maelstrom" What was going on here. Mera'shar lowered his sword and released saidin. Understanding dawned his features. "You came from the portal Stone, didn't you? You're looking for the thieves who stole the ter'angreal from Rhuidean, just like we are!" "That's right" Mura'shar responded cautiously. I assume the same happened here?" "Undoubtedly" said Mura'shar "Although my Black Tower is from a third world. We followed the thieves here too and were looking for clues when you came along. I sensed a trap going off and came to investigate. I thought one of the Soldiers had gone off by himself and did something we'd all regret." He paused for a moment. "Come back to our camp. I'll tell you what we learned about this world and the thieves. Maybe our two Towers can work together. "But my bondmate! Mura'shar replied She's on the other side of this wall. She needs to know I'm all right" Mera'shar looked startled for a moment, then recovered "She'll be fine. The cam isn't far, and we'll help you get back to your own camp. You may even eat her back to it" reluctantly, Mura'shar accepted. "Tell me about your bondmate" Mera'shar said as they headed out. "You only have one?" "Yes Most Asha'man only have one. A few have two, but that's rare. Some don't bond any. You have more than one?" "Six" Mera'shar replied, then laughed at Mura'shar's startled look "That is a lot, even in my world. But we have a lot of Aes Sedai in the Black Tower. And bondings do provide certain benefits, do they not?" Mura'shar pretended to understand that. As they walked, Mura'shar told him stories about the members of the Black Tower. Tareena, Stevan, Rengar, Alcinia, Myiona, and others. He mentioned the recent trouble with the Soldiers who were bothering Myiona. Mera'shar found it amusing to no end "In my world, those Soldiers would have been taught a lesson they would remember to their next rebirth!" Mera'shar talked about what he knew of this world, though the information was vague. Darkfriends were everywhere. It was an open secret that the Black Ajah ruled the White Tower. He aluded to the Forsaken having never been imprisoned, but Mura'shar was incredulous to the tale, and Mera'shar didn't press it "This is not a pleasant world to be in, my friend" Mera'shar warned him. It is said the Dragon Reborn, or one claiming to be him, founded the Black Tower here for the express purpose of recruiting Dreadlords for the last Battle. Ah, we're here" Mura'shar received many startled looks when they entered camp. But Mera'shar called out to them that everything was fine, he was taking them to see Stevan. That reassured them, though they were still amazed at two identical copies of a man walking side by side. They entered one of the buildings. Mera'shar headed for one of the other rooms, and stuck his head in and whispered something. He turned back to Mura'shar and said "I would like you to meet my bondmates" Suddenly Mura'shar was shielded he gasped and went for his sword. Mera'shar channeled something, and Mura'shar slumped to the ground, asleep. Mura'shar awoke still shielded. He was chained to a wall. He could sit, but not stand. Six women knelt before him. All had the ageless look of Aes Sedai and the defeated look of prisoners long used to their confinement. Mera'shar stood before him, smiling. "I never thought yo would be so stupid 'Mura'shar" What kind of name is that anyway, the prefix for 'without' in the Old Tongue is 'mera" " I wasn't the scholar you obviously are" Mura'shar replied. He tested the shield. All six Aes Sedai must be linked and maintaining the shield. He couldn't budge it "You're the Black Tower of this world, aren't you? You're the thieves" Mera'shar gave a mocking bow "Of course. Now we'll just have to find out what threat your people pose my people" The look he gave Mura'shar made it clear what was in store for him "Go ahead. Torture me. Myiona will know where I am and what happens to me. Then we'll see whose Black Tower is stronger!" Myiona wont know anything. Her beloved 'Mura'shar' will be right by her side" he picked up what looked like a long golden scalpel from a nearby table. When we capture an Aes Sedai alive, it's never a good idea to let her Warder know where she's being held, so we cut the bond from her. He tore open Mura'shar's shirt and poked him with the blade just above the heart. Enough to draw blood. He channeled Spirit into the blade, and Mura'shar felt an emptiness in him. Myiona was gone. Mura'shar fought not to weep Mera'shar continued "Every once in a while, it's to or benefit to pass such a bond along. Black Ajah sisters enjoy using bonds to compel Warders who don't follow the Dark One. He unbuttoned his own shirt and pricked himself with e bloody blade, which now cast a greenish light. Mera'shar's eyes widened "Two bonds? She bonded you as well? This will be very interesting indeed" Mura'shar wondered if this impostor could really fool Myiona Maybe. He is an accomplished actor, it seems. And very charming. He wished he hadn't run his mouth off so much on the way here. He shouldn't have been so trusting, even to himself. "How much of what you told me was the truth about this world? he growled" "None of it" Mera'shar grinned "Well, maybe some of it. Maybe all. Does it matter to you anymore?" A pair of Dedicated knocked on the door and were let in before Mura'shar could answer. Mera'shar gave them their instructions. "I want you to extract every bit of information you can from this prisoner. Everything about his Black Tower. Command structure. People of importance, political situations. Everything. When we replace others in his Tower, I'll want them to blend in as effectively as they can. "But shouldn't you wait a bit, sir? Let us get some more information out of him first?" one of the Dedicated dared to ask "I should, but he's been gone too long already. If he's not back soon, questions will be asked, I'm sure. I'll be back when I can to check your progress. And no one touches my toys wile I'm gone, or you'll hear from me. The way he shifted his gaze from the Dedicated to the Aes Sedai made it clear what he meant by his "toys" Mura'shar felt revulsion rise in him. This was no t him! To the Aes Sedai, Mera'shar said "Three of you are to be shielding him at all times, while the others rest. Is that clear?" The Aes Sedai trembled and said it was clear. Mera'shar turned to Mura'shar again and grinned "I have almost a complete collection of toys. Every Ajah but Green." He paused a moment "Your Myiona is Green, isn't she? He laughed even harder when Mura'shar tried to lunge at him and was stopped by his shackles. With that, Mera'shar left, and the Dedicated went to work. ========================================================= Mera'shar laughed all the way to his quarters. It has been a long time since he could put his skills to good use. When was the last time? Ah, yes. It was when he pretended to meekly go away when his parents asked him to "for the good of the family" They were ashamed of their son who could channel. But he showed them! He showed them all! But this was far more dangerous. He may need some backup he opened a drawer to his desk and placed the ter'angreal in side. The bondcutter was a wondrous thing. But useless where he was going. There were two other items inside. A heavy stone ring and a silver pin. The pin is almost identical to the one he received as a Dedicated. It was the stronger of the two angreal, and less conspicuous. He put it on and Traveled. Mera'shar stumbled into camp, feigning exhaustion. Members of the Black Tower rushed to his aid, asking what happened. He shook them of with a few words of apology, asking where Myiona was. He had to make sure Myiona was all right. The others understood and pointed him in the right direction. Mera'shar thanked them, refused offers of Healing, and headed towards his latest bondmate. All the while he wondered at the gullibility of these people. __________________________________ Note: I will now be writing two rps at once. Mura'shar the prisoner and Mera'shar the Darkfriend infiltrator. Mera'shar is so close to physically identical as to make no difference. He is totally amoral, and will say or do anything to get his way, including murder (though he'd also be smart enough to cover his tracks)
Jake
2 Marked Asha'man

 Tareena strode away from the tent, trouble painted across her Seanchan features. Myiona did not seem to be taking her warning very seriously. Tareena knew that Myiona could take care of herself but that was just the problem. This was something that should be dealt with through the chain of command, not by the Dragonsworn. Asha'man were the responsibility of the Captain of Soldiers and Stevan, not the 1st Dragonsworn. As Guardian, Tareena could have stepped in, she had the right, but she normally tried to stay out of the picture, preferring to let the men handle the men. It kept the tension down. Should I report this to Stevan directly? Is it my responsibility as Guardian to do so? If I do, Stevan will have to be told of my informant and I cannot risk that. Who knows how he will react to knowing I purposefully recruited a spy from the ranks? Not to kindly, I can well imagine. No, I will let Myiona handle this. She said she will tell Mur'ashar, I have to believe that she will. That decision made, she continued on her way through the camp. Stevan had told them to divide into groups so she better find some partners. As Tareena made her way through the camp, she noticed that almost everyone had left, leaving her to wonder whether she should go out alone and meet up with another group. Just as the thought crossed her mind, she turned the corner and saw two women standing there, eyeing one another and their surroundings with trepidation and, it seemed to her, a little fear. Realizing that the newcomers would not be the first to be asked to go, Tareena decided she would take them with her. Knowing little about them, she still thought that she could provide enough protection for the three if the need arose. Maybe they would run into another Ash'aman would join their group at a later time. Tareena approached them, eyeing them carefully. Lina Inlaison was from Ebou Dar, that much she remembered from the vague report that had come to her. The other, Ly'dara was Sharan. Little was known about her world and from the little Tareena had picked up, the girl was unwilling to talk about it either. Oh well, she had to make her own way, as Tareena herself had. Being Seanchan was not exactly the best way to start out a career in the tower. Some of her wry amusement must have shown on her face because some of the fearfulness left their eyes. "We have not met formally. I am Tareena De'Havilan, Guardian of the Black Tower. You may call me Tareena as we are fairly informal here. I am in need of partners to explore the city. I would like for the two of you to join me." Not waiting for a response, Tareena started walking from the tent area into the city. Having no idea what to look for made an interesting search. Needle in a haystack came to mind but with that came the thought that maybe she would just as soon leave the needle where it was. Of course, it would do no good to let the others see that she was just a tad bit afraid herself. Who knew what they would find on there search? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ - Okay you two, welcome to the BT, there's your intro in the wonderful RP world :) Feel free to write your impressions and if one of you has a brilliant idea on where you want to search or what you want to find, go for it. I am open to adventure. I will wait for your responses before I go any further. If one of the Asha'man or Soldiers/Dedicated would like to join our group, feel free. Here is a wonderful opportunity for you guys to scope out the new ladies for bonding potential. Hmmmm...wait a minute....on second thought....maybe it is their chance to scope YOU out. ::grins::: Nick, Tareena is going to be awfully tired after searching the city, could she possibly arrange a moonlight serenade of the violin? Just a thought.... :) Anyway, looking forward to this mission and reading everyone's stories, keep up the good work!!!
Lisa

 It had been a long night, but La'rece did not regret the missed sleep. Time had passed rather pleasantly. Once, she had heard what sounded like a stone falling, but from the looks of things, the Dragonsworn wouldn't have been surprised to see an entire structure collapse. Rhuidean, this Rhuidean anyway, had sat empty for presumably over a hundred years or more, unfinished and uncared for. After she was relieved by a young Asha'man, La'rece headed back toward the tent she shared with Myiona. Walking across the large square in which the Black Tower had set up its camp, the Dragonsworn spotted the First and her bondmate having breakfast over near his tent. Deciding she needed some tea at the very least, La'rece strolled over to the fire. "Morning, Myiona. Mura'shar." Myiona smiled and Mura'shar inclined his head. La'rece figured he was probably at bit at odds with her since their last 'discussion.' "We've received orders to search the city in small groups. I'm teaming the Dragonsworn with novices for today's expedition" Myiona explained. "There's something … out of joint with this place …" La'rece's voice trailed off as her eyes scanned the surrounding structures. Mura'shar grunted. La'rece's eyes shifted to him, hard and intent. Seeing that he was also observing their destination, the Dragonsworn realized she was being skittish. Unlike her after so many years. What was the danger here? Shadowspawn? Darkfriends? The Forsaken? They'd faced them all and would again and again. This was different. Taking a cup of tea offered by Myiona, La'rece sat down and shared a quick respite with the two bondmates. After a short while the Arafellan stood, brushing the crumbs from her fingers. "This place makes my flesh crawl. Fah!" Shaking her head and frowning, La'rece looked around once more. Members of the Tower were already preparing to set out on their scouting assignments. "I'd best find some poor novice to torture. I wonder if any of them have ever been on a snipe hunt?" Mura'shar was laughing almost as hard as La'rece as she walked away. An amused smile played over Myiona's lips as she watched the Dragonsworn head off to find search companions. ****** As La'rece bent over a trunk inside her tent a voice spoke up behind her. "Excuse me, Dragonsworn. But we've been instructed to find a … Dragonsworn to accompany today. So, I've come, Dragonsworn, to join you today." The young woman waited for La'rece's answer. "Dragonsworn …?" Standing up, La'rece turned around holding her sword. A gift from Ivan Gregorian, her bondmate. The heron stood out clearly as sunlight glinted across the blade. "I know very well what my rank is, thank you." Grinning, the Arafellan added, "call me La'rece."
Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster
OOC: So, if anyone wants to join me in the search of the city, jump on in … :P

 A wisper. Just a silent whisper against the night was enough to wake the sleeping Shara, her sleep had been topsy-turvey -that is if you could even call it "sleep". It was more of a period for the closed eyes to take a break for the vast realm they called the Aiel Waste. Ly'dara pulled her hair back loosely and a few whispers took home on her face. Ly'dara was at a complete loss to her expedition that day, she figured if she stood around long enough, she'd be scolded and sent off to do something. {Compared to home....} A long sad sight escaped her lips. {Home, like I'll ever see that again. Oh, I really shouldn't be doing this to myself, it'll make me sad, and down. Then I won't make any friends...} Ly'dara continued to ramble in her head until a woman, with the growings of an ageless face appraoched her and another young girl. Ly'dara took a stance of pure attention. "We have not met formally. I am Tareena De'Havilan, Guardian of the Black Tower. You may call me Tareena as we are fairly informal here. I am in need of partners to explore the city. I would like for the two of you to join me." As Tareena turned away from Ly'dara and Lina, Ly'dara tossed the other young girl a look, shrugged and sprinted off after Tareena, so that she'd catch up. Ly'dara, not being accostumed to such a manner of clothery, tripped amongst her skirts and took a lovely fall, flat on her face. A very colorful use of Ly'dara's vocabulary flowed freely from her lips as she brushed herself off. Most of her cursing was directed at the skirts she wore, and at the Sea Folk wench that was the casue of her being in such a predicament. Though, none were directed at any members of the Black Tower, to which she owed her life, debt and gratitude, for taking the Shara into their humble being. Grabbing the skirts into her hands, not even caring at this point in time if they wrinkled or not, Ly'dara trudged after Tareena, praying and hopping that no one had seen her gracefull spill. She fell instep slightly behind Tareena, the Dragonsworn, and to her left, the position she'd so regally taken many a time before. "What have you in mind for us today, Tareena?" Unfortunatly for the Sharan her hair had taken it's own path, having tumbled out of it's bow and fell into her face. She shoved it back with a fiercety that Ly'dara had never shown before. If it were up to Ly'dara, she would've chopped off the matting of hair that had placed itself on her head, like an unwanted visitor.
.....l..y..n..n..e.....
"Ly'dara Kavall"

 Alcinia, clothed in a dress, listened to the instructions. It was bad enough that she would be hampered by her clothing, but now she would be stuck with another person. She looked around wondering if there was anyway she could find someone that could keep up with her. The young Mayene woman had decided to sneak off on her own when she heard someone calling her name.

 Myiona was surprised when Mura'shar yelled for her to "get back." She was worried when she felt something explode. She tried to find a way to get over the rubble to her bondmate, but it was hopeless. After considering her options, she decided that he would meet her back in camp and that the best thing to do would be to head back. The Domani woman walked slowly through camp and went into the tent she had shared with her bondmate the night before. She could feel his injuries from the explosion and something else, a kind of confusion. A quick pain made her drop to her knees on the ground. "What?" she muttered, but the pain quickly slipped away. Everything seemed to be fine with Mura'shar then, he even seemed to be laughing. As Mura'shar stepped into the tent, Myiona turned around and looked at him. For a moment, she thought she saw something in his eyes, something dark and evil. She pushed the thought away and stood slowly, walking into his open arms. "I thought," she said looking up into his face, "that I had lost you, but you are not injured." She reached up and touched his face gently, allowing her love to show clearly in her eyes.
Vicky
aka Myiona

 A small breeze kicked up as La'rece and Raileine headed across the square. The young Novice had been instructed to find the Dragonsworn to accompany her on a search of the southwestern sector of the city. Raileine was clearly nervous. *More about being assigned to me than this bloody wreck of a city, most likely* the Arafellan thought wrily. "This should be fairly straight forward today, Raileine. Nice day for a stroll, don't you think?" La'rece asked the young woman. "Um, yes, Dragonswo … I mean, La'rece. A … nice day for a … stroll" the Novice replied. Looking up at the towering, unfinished and crumbling structures, Raileine swallowed hard. ***** As the two women continued on their way through the camp, the Dragonsworn spotted a young Soldier who was looking about in what appeared to be confusion.. La'rece stopped in front of the young man who did not notice her presence for a moment. When he suddenly realized that the two women were standing there, one almost nose to nose with him, he jumped in surprise and yelped. Blue eyes met green eyes as the Soldier met La'rece's intimidating gaze. "Blood and a…" the Soldier's voice trailed off as he realized that it was a Dragonsworn standing in front of him. La'rece's grin did little to assuage the mortified look on the man's face when he realized what he was about to say in her presence. "Ashes. I believe is the expression you were looking for. Blood and ashes. Or, for a more profound surprise or irritation, one could resort to blood and bloody ashes, though I think that's best reserved for really choice moments … like getting caught by the M'Hael with your breeches down, as it were." La'rece's face was a picture of Aes Sedai calmness though her eyes fairly glinted with unsuppressed laughter. Raileine covered her mouth as she giggled at the confounded look on the Soldier's face. The Soldier's mouth tried to work, but before he could speak again, the Dragonsworn spoke, "Have you been assigned to a search party?" "No, Dragonsworn" he replied. Raileine noted that La'rece did not correct the Soldier by telling him to refer to her by name. "Well, then, I guess you're mine to collect. Grab your sword and come with me. We'll be searching the section of the city just past that large building over there" La'rece said pointing at an immense tower with a skin of glass, much of it shattered. Scrambling to grab his gear the Soldier quickly followed the Dragonsworn and Novice as they proceeded into the deserted city. Anyone who saw the trio would have marvelled at the sight of the statuesque redheaded woman in boots and breeches, her clothes in shades of brown, the pretty young woman gliding along holding her skirts above the debris cast about, and the young dark-haired Soldier trying to keep up while buttoning his black jacket. As the group turned a corner, La'rece paused to look around. Still searching the surrounding buildings, the Dragonsworn asked, "What's your name, Soldier?" "Shahn, ma'am. Shahn Anders. From …" the young man started to answer. "Ebou Dar" La'rece finished for him. Seeing the look of surprise in his eyes, the Dragonsworn added, "Your accent marks you clearly. Light, some of the experiences this Tower's had in that place." Glancing at his sword, she asked, "Do you actually know how to use that thing?" "Of course, I do!" the Soldier replied indignantly. For her part, Raileine decided to keep quiet during this exchange. "Don't get bent out of shape, Soldier. I only ask so I know what to expect in the event that we … run into trouble." "Do you think we'll run into trouble, La'rece?" Raileine asked hesitantly. "Girl, I've been with this Tower now for … well, a long while and let's just say that you can count on it. Light, but you could almost set a clock by it." Raileine and Shahn shared a brief look. The Novice didn't think they were meant to hear the last. With a sigh, the Dragonsworn motioned with her head for the other two to follow her as she headed down what appeared to have been a long narrow street. The group could make out what appeared to be another square at the other end. Buildings on either side of the street towered over the threesome as they moved stealthily down the length of pavement toward the other end.
Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster
OOC: Anyone who'd like to catch up or wander into my little group is free to do so. We'll be coming across something that makes us suspicious perhaps, leading La'rece to suspect an Invasion of the Body Snatchers theory. I promise not to muss anyone's RP :::wink:::

 Alcinia quickly hurried around a corner, pretending not to hear her name. She did not need anyone tagging along with her and slowing her down. After she was beyond sight, the Mayene woman headed for the shadows and moved among them. As she rounded a corner, Alcinia heard a sound and turned around. A man stood there, a familiar looking man, and he held a knife. "So, little thief," he said, "you have come back. I thought when you ran with those ter'angreal we would never see you again. Where did you put them?" Alcinia looked at him in confusion. "What are you talking about?" she asked. "I have no ter'angreal and I have no idea who you are." The man frowned. "Have you already forgotten the lessons I taught you? I am looking forward to teaching them to you again." As he reached for her, Alcinia pulled her own knife and let it fly. The man had moved and the blade only nicked his arm. He roared with anger, "You will regret that. Now you have made me mad and you know what happens when I am mad." Alcinia tried to turn and run, but he was quicker. He grabbed her and threw her to the ground, putting the knife to her throat. Knowing that all was lost, the Mayene used her small skill in compulsion to move the knife until it pierced her skin. The blood that spurted out seemed to amaze and delight the man. She could feel herself getting weaker by the moment and knew that her life was over.

 For a long moment, La’rece stood looking at the young woman standing before her garbed as a Soldier. If the Arafellan was surprised at the nature of the young Initiate’s choice of clothing or her sun scorched face, it did not show in her expression. La’rece marveled at the girl’s insistence in wearing black in this Light forsaken heat. A man might do so because he was too proud to admit the elements could potentially get the better of him, but for this girl … *What is she trying to prove, I wonder?* “What’s your name, child?” La’rece asked with a smile. “Shea. Shea Vironda” the Initiate replied hesitantly. Shea wondered why the Dragonsworn looked at her so oddly. “You will stay with us on our search. If you actually know how to use that sword, keep it at the ready. I don’t trust this place … something feels wrong. Maybe it’s just that it isn’t *our* reality, but all the same … keep your eyes open and speak up immediately if you detect something unusual.” La’rece turned back in the direction they had been heading and continued on with the three following her. As the group entered what appeared to be another square, the Dragonsworn signaled a stop. “No one channels. Understood?” La’rece looked them in the eyes to make certain that they indeed understood. Raileine nodded, Shahn hesitated but quickly nodded his assent at the Dragonsworn’s arched eyebrow, and Shea nodded curtly. Satisfied that the three would follow her instructions, La’rece turned her attention back to the structures surrounding the square. The buildings all appeared to be as deserted as the rest of the city. Any of them could be holding untold hidden dangers, but the battle-trained former Green did not like the feeling of being exposed, in the open. La’rece had learned long ago to trust her instincts and right now they were telling her to find cover. The Dragonsworn looked back at Shea. *It wouldn’t hurt to get her out of the direct sun, either* Gesturing with her hand rather than speaking, La’rece indicated a building to their right and began heading toward it, the Novice, the Initiate, and the Soldier following her lead, not speaking, moving stealthily. As they entered the shadowed interior of the immense building, the temperature dropped about five degrees. It wasn’t precisely cool, but it was a far cry from the relentless heat-drenched light outside. Still not speaking, La’rece indicated that they should all stay close as she led them up a flight of stairs. *Perhaps we’ll be able to see more of what’s going on from up top* Each of the group wondered in their heads what such a building might have been intended for … was it a palace? a fortress? They had climbed sixteen floors when La’rece changed course and led the group into one of the rooms. Tall wooden doors crumbled when touched and the windows were empty of glass or covering. Looking out the window, the four members of the Black Tower could see more than half the city. Rhuidean appeared to be completely devoid of life. Yet the others of the Black Tower were there, off to the left. La’rece thought she could just make out a thin wisp of smoke. Something that would be easily missed unless you knew to look for it. But there was something else … Sweeping her eyes across the expansive city beneath its foggy dome, the Dragonsworn searched for some clue as to what was troubling her. Suddenly, her eyes narrowed. There was a small party of people entering the square on the far side. A small voice in her head told her to use extreme caution. Gesturing for Raileine, Shea and Shahn to get down, La’rece channeled a bare wisp of spirit and snaked it down toward the other group, carefully so as not to be detected. Listening to a few words of conversation, the Dragonsworn relaxed. It was just members of the Tower who were apparently also searching in the general area. *Your jumping at shadows, woman!* La’rece thought ruefully. Then suddenly, not having let go of the weave yet, she heard a voice that made her skin break out in goosebumps. A man was giving instructions to the others. It was Ivan Gregorian. *But that’s impossible, unless he …* But before she could finish the thought a woman’s voice spoke followed quickly by another woman’s. It was all La’rece could do not to scream as she quickly released the weave and scrambled back from the edge of the window. They had to get back. Something was more than not alright. Something was very wrong. “Blood and bloody bleeding ashes!” the Dragonsworn exclaimed in a tight voice. Raileine and Shea exchanged troubled looks and Shahn looked as though he wanted to run. “Oh, Light! What have we found in this place?” “Dragonsworn?” Shahn began hesitantly. “What’s wrong?” Her face drained of color, La’rece took a deep breath. “Unless this place is a far cry different from our world, which I must say, I pray it is, then we may have just found the trouble I’ve been sensing.” The Dragonsworn’s face became hard as granite. “I believe the Black Ajah’s in Rhuidean.” Raileine’s hands went to her mouth, Shea’s eyes widened considerably, and Shahn looked as though he wished he could find a cave to hide in. La’rece understood completely. She had been fighting Aes Sedai darkfriends for almost a hundred years and figured she would continue to do so for the rest of her life. More disturbing than the Black Ajah to La’rece was the persons to whom the voices she heard belonged. The first was Brendina Collon, a Blue from Ghealdon she had known over fifty years ago. La’rece had killed her when the woman tried to kill the Green along with her two warders. La’rece had begun to suspect Brendina’s darker affiliations which had spurred the Black sister into action. It had been a close fight, but La’rece’s fighting skills had given her the edge. But it was the second woman’s voice that had shaken her foundation. That voice was her own!
Lauren
La’rece Barata’gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 Ariana quickly decided that she would volunteer to stay and guard the camp. She really didn't want to go crawling through ruins, at least not these ruins. For some reason, the shattered shell of the unfinished Aiel city raised her hackles in a way that was eerily like the time she had had to get through a Whitecloak camp. And besides, it was simply too hot to go limping through a pile of wreckage. The best thing to do would be stay at camp and soak up the sun, and Heal whatever injuries the city was bound to cause. Nothing happened worth note during the first half of the day; most of the time was taken up in creating search parties and beginning exploration. The Healer went to take up her post, thinking about nothing of importance and idly twirling her staff around as she sat on the rock she had adopted. Briefly she had wondered about the creature that she had seen the other night; since then she had seen not a single sign of life anywhere in this barren waste. Does anything live here? If not, how come the thieves were traced here? Or do they come from yet another world, and simply passed through here? The idea of so many worlds, stacked like books on a library shelf, was daunting. One was enough for any person to have to worry about! The day passed in boredom and speculation; at one point she scratched a stones board onto her rock and played red rocks against gray. Twice the red side won, then the gray did once. Then she got bored and pitched the rocks one by one as far as she could, aiming for other pebbles and improving her aim. Since there were so few guards, she was on shift all day. At one point someone brought her food; she ate half. Too bad there are no birds to toss the breadcrumbs to, she thought, wishing for some sign of life. Only at evening did something interesting happen; Mura'shar returned to camp. Alone, for Myiona his bondmate had already been there for a while. She frowned. She couldn't imagine him leaving her behind, but apparently he had. When he turned casually to look at her, she got the same spiky feeling that the ruins had given her- but only for a moment. Then he smiled casually and turned away. The Healer dismissed the prickle of fear and wariness as a result of the boredom and sun- and being on a world where she technically didn't exist, or at least didn't belong. Who knew what sort of effects that could bring? It was probably why she was so nervous. That, and the reddish light. But one more anomaly occurred that day. None other than Dedicated Sneed presented himself for Healing later that night, a large bruise a shade of livid purple spreading across his face. When he discovered he was going to be healed by the "cripple" he had knocked in the dirt only a few weeks ago -Li ght, was it really only that short a time?- he looked humbled for a moment. Which was rather out of character for the little snot, she knew; if she hadn't been a Healer in the true sense of the word, she would have refused him. And his behaviour was not particularly humble after that first momentary look of reproach; she got only a curt "fell" when asked how he had come by such a spectacular bruise, and the only detail she got when she probed deeper was "in the ruins." He resisted all other attempts at getting information. Of course, such an explanation was unlikely; it was hard to fall on one's cheek without scraping hands and elbows and acquiring bruises on other parts, too. And the mark surely looked like a fist- four darker points within the general swelling and purpleness that corresponded to the knuckle points of a fist. Oh, how I wish they had the Oath against lying! Sneed left her presence as soon as he possibly could, and Ariana had to wonder. She didn't think, judging by his behaviour, that having her Heal him was what had kept his mouth civil. The way he had eyed her like a bug to be squashed or ignored did not support that idea. But what use was there in trying to ask him? And besides, she had to admit, if only to herself, that if someone had finally had enough of him, she didn't really care all that much. For what he had done and how he had acted among the female contingent of the Tower, she was surprised someone hadn't socked him before. Finally, someone came to take over her watch, and the Healer went to relax in her tent for a while. There would be all too little rest for them all, she feared, and it was best to snatch sleep where one could. Still, the strangeness of the day kept intruding on her dreams, and she saw Mura'shar laughing into a mirror that didn't laugh back, and Dedicated Sneed being punched by a hand that seemed to come out of the walls of the city, and a red light fighting a shadow while she watched from her rock. In all, she didn't get much sleep- when she woke, suddenly, in the middle of the night, it felt as though she was being watched, but when she glanced out toward where a lantern's gleam shone through the tent's wall, there was no silhouette of a watcher. She went back to sleep feeling uneasy, as she had since arriving here. And when she rose the next day, it felt like she hadn't slept at all. Ok, here's a long one in celebration of the AP English test being over!! YAY!!!! Now I shall hopefully have more time to write, and the RPs will also hopefully improve in length and quality... I hope! ~e

 "I'm back now though," Mura'shar whispered in her ear, "now and forever." Myiona was surprised by the passion in his kiss. There were few times when Mura'shar let go of the control he had learned growing up. She pulled away before her knees buckled under her. "You must have been very worried," she said with a smile, "to kiss me like that. It is the middle of the day. Aren't you afraid that someone might walk in on us?" She walked to the other side of the tent and took several calming breaths. "I think I should go to my own tent now," Myiona said. "I am sure that Stevan will call a meeting as soon as everyone gets back and it would not be seemly for us to miss it. Perhaps, I will come visit you later." She touched his face gently before leaving the tent. ============================================================= A dark robed figure appeared beside the portal stone and spent a moment orienting herself. She could feel the bond between herself and the newest of her young playthings. He had been sent ahead with the others to prepare her tent and to gather information. She constructed a gateway and stepped into it, coming out behind her tent. She moved quickly to the doorway and stepped inside. The handsome young man was reclining on her pillows. "Well," she said in her sexy voice, "I hope you are enjoying yourself." "M-misstress," he stuttered falling to his face in front of her, "I was not aware that you had arrived. Everything is ready and I have learned some interesting things." "So," she said settling back on the pillows, "tell me all that you have learned." He told her of the capture of the double by Mera'shar and that he was puffed up with pride over his latest victory. "He has gone to impersonate the double," the man said as Myiona of the Black Ajah gazed at him impassionately, "in the other camp. His Aes Sedai have been left behind." "You have done well," Myiona replied, "and now I shall reward you. I will let you live even though you disobeyed my instructions, but I must punish you." She channeled and touched the pain centers in his brain, leaving him writhing on the floor. She walked through the camp, aware of how everyone stepped out of the way, and refused to meet her eyes. She knew the rumors that circulated about her, and most of them were true. She had been head of the Black Ajah in the White Tower until she was ordered to join the Black Tower. So, she had left the Ajah in the hands of her chosen successor and had gone to the Dragon offering to join his side. She had spent days in humiliation at his hands, but it had been worth it. She had been given a special status in the tower. She was made a special emissary to the chosen. That job she had taken willingly and now she reported directly back to them. Myiona stopped at the tent where the prisoner was being held. The three Aes Sedai inside cowered before her. They had thought she would aid them when she came to the Black Tower. Each had learned a painful lesson at her hands. "Outside," she directed, "you may keep him shielded from there." As she stepped close to him, his eyes opened. "Myiona," he said, "how did you get here? Can you get me out?" "I am not your Myiona," she said healing the latest round of bruises and cuts, "but perhaps I can help you if you help me. Your double, Mera'shar, is a dangerous man and hopes to displace me in position. I cannot let him gain as much attention as this will bring him if all goes well. I will think about what I should do and speak with you again. Do not tell them anything." She touched his face gently and then kissed him, bonding him. "That will help you resist," she said with an evil smile. "Perhaps later I will have them bring you to my tent for some fun."

 Shea stared at La'rece, not sure whether she should be shrieking, hiding, or attacking. The Black Ajah? The bloody Black Ajah? The Initiate's brow furrowed as she tried to puzzle her way through this strange statement. How could she know? "How does she know?" she whispered more or less inaudibly, knowing that nobody would answer her. From the way the Dragonsworn was staring out onto the desert, Shea probably could have set herself on fire and danced a jig without La'rece so much as registering the action. Frowning, Shea shifted away from the window and studied her other two companions. The sight of Raileine brought to mind a certain feeling, the one experienced after walking several miles through pouring rain and hail, and just wishing more than anything else to curl up somewhere warm, safe, and dry, with a good book. Shahn looked as though curling up anywhere, temperature and dryness irrelevant, would be more preferable to him than this very high, very hot, very precarious -- in more ways than one -- position they had all found themselves in. It occured to her than perhaps he was afraid of heights. Shea flashed a friendly smile at him, provoking an even more frightened look, and she chuckled softly to herself, or tried to. Finding humour in such a spot was totally ludicrous, but what else was there for her to do? The Black Ajah. The Aiel Waste. And Rhuidean, the very sight of which gave her an odd sensation of apprehension. Trapped in the corner as she was, Shea could find little to relieve the tension that presaged what would surely be a strenuous flurry of fighting, exploring, and other such bothers. Remembering something, she placed her hand firmly on the hilt of her sword, and clutched it. There. That was something to do. And so she did it, with all her might.
~Rae
Shea Vironda
Initiate

 Darren has been on a mission to Seanchan territory, sent by a lead from one of his old Andoran - army associates. He has tracked down a mysterious bargain, and snuck into one of the cities' Seanchan Headquarters... Darren looked up from the paper to his sole companion, Dedicated Gavin. "Whoever is making this deal is going give the Seanchan half of their recalcitrant Saidar-wielders, in return for a large number of A'dam. They both benefit - at our expense. Of course, given the bizarre detailing of the handing-over, it looks like either side could turn it into a simple theft, if they just know how to Travel." "Well, who is this other bunch of people?" "It doesn't say, but I can look at the signature." Darren looked down again Suddenly the light that Gavin had been making went out, but not before Darren saw the tip of a sword sprout from his neck. Darren leapt, siezed saidin, and reached for his swords. And someone spoke. "There is no need to do that. I signed it." A pause. Darren had to wait for the other to get out of the way before he could escape to somewhere with moon-light, where he could fight. The other continued. "And what's beautiful about it is that everyone will think it was you. After all, I signed it 'Darren Sadke, Black Tower, in the service of the Dragon Reborn, Rand Al'Thor' and I made sure that several... neutral... spies have had a chance to see it. And not trust our dear... Dragon." Darren could tell he was out of immediate attack range, so he hazarded speech. "I don't suppose any of them would listen to a reasoned-out handwriting analysis?" "Yes, they might. but..." an evil chuckle. "They would find that it indeed was you." He created a light. Darren stared at Darran uncomprehendingly. Darran drew his sword and flaired it so that its heron-mark was obvious. "See what you could have been?" Darren shrugged and planned an attack. Darran had also planned one, and started first. He was fast, very fast. Darren had to make two or three parries a second, and Darran cleanly parried every one of Darren's ripostes despite only having one blade. Darren suddenly rolled beneath the table he had been reading at. The table between them, they took a moment's breath. "I'm not just a blademaster," boasted Darran. "I'm the one blademasters go to to learn further." "Oh shut up", mumbled Darren. He thought about Darran's tactics, about some way to get through them. Darran threw air at the table, throwing it at Darren. Darren rolled aside, under it, and brought his swords up into two parries for the two possible attacks Darran might have made. His right sword caught the attack, and he rolled onto his feet. Then he retreated while changing position, and assumed with his right hand the raised, pointing-down ready position of a blademaster, and with his left wielded the sword like a dagger, blade back. Fancifully, he murmurred a made-up name for the position "Cobra and Mongoose together." Darran immediately made an attack, a feint to Darren's right side, which he parried with his left hand, and did not strike back. It was too clearly an enticement to fall out of position. Darran struck again, and this time Darren parried it with the right blade, and swung in with his left hand leading to punch Darran in the face. The light went out, and Darren ran for the door, down a short corridor, into the bright moonlight on top of a high wall-walk. Darran was quickly in pursuit, and was wise enough to roll through the door, not leaving himself as open to an attack from above. Darren did indeed spring down, and Darran did parry and strike back, but Darren was on fire. They evenly traded blows and counterblows, and each one parried. But Darren was the one pushing. Darran tripped backing down a step in the wall-walk, but even from the ground continued to parry. Once, and he was disarmed of the heron-marked blade. Then Darren had his blade free, and a clear path... but Darran parried with an empty hand, and channelled earth, water, and fire. Darren tried to interfere, but what he did to it didn't stop it at all. he didn't even know exactly what it was supposed to do. He soon found out. When sword met hand, sword gave way, and liquefied around Darran's hand. Darran reached for the heron-marked blade and almost got to his feet. Darren swung his remaining sword at the hand reaching... but this time he was ready for the liquefying weave. Well, in a way. Darran's hand clasped around the heron-marked blade. Darren's sword met Darran's wrist, and liquefied. But the heron mark blade also gave way, and oozed into a pool on the ground. Darran finished getting to his feet. "You have given me the advantage of metal fists." and he charged. Darren only moved into the Aiel stance at the last moment, and threw his double to the ground. Holding the wrists tightly - something one would not do unless one's victim's hands could not bend - Darren pinned him against the wall. "Now, who are you?" Darran smirked. "Darran Sathke... and you are on the bottom. " "What?" He was interrupted by being pushed off the wall-walk into the garden below. He threw himself wide of Darran in case Darran was right that he would have been on bottom, and relaxed for the landing. It wasn't a long fall, but it took both of them a moment to recover. Darran didn't even bother standing up, but Travelled. Darren watched him crawl through, and just as it was released, and crumpling, jammed it open, a little tiny point. He stood up and pulled the Gate fully open again. And there was Darran, at a portal stone, reaching for a particular symbol. Darren silently walked up behind him, and watched what he did, but did not strike. And then the world changed. **** I had to get back into things somehow, and this seemed a good way.
Luke
Darren Sadke and Darran Sathke
Bonded with Tareena

 Myiona certainly seemed to be enjoying herself, when she finally backed away and took a few breaths "I think I should go to my own tent now," Myiona said. "I am sure that Stevan will call a meeting as soon as everyone gets back and it would not be seemly for us to miss it. Perhaps, I will come visit you later." Mera'shar suppressed a moment of temper No woman refuses me! None! But instead he smiled at her as she touched his ace and left. There will be time later to show her who was in charge here. He distracted himself with thoughts of this upcoming meeting. It will be interesting to see who held the reigns of power in this Black Tower. Stevan is obviously a force to be reckoned with here as well. But who else is there? And can he drive some wedges between them? As he stood in thought, Mera'shar saw another familiar face. Tareena De'Havilan returned from the city with a pair of Novitiates in tow. Mera'shar wondered if she too was a voice of authority. The Tareena he knew could be most effective in "training" new recruits, and was as well respected as anyone was respected in the Black Tower. Deciding to test his luck, and still seething a bit from Myiona's rebuff, Mera'shar strolled up to Tareena. He turned up the charm a notch, and with a touch of saidin, made her seem to slip on a patch of gravel. Mera'shar gallantly caught her arm before she fell, and in a semi-flirtati ous voice, asked "Fancy meeting you here" ============================================================= Mura'shar was enjoying a dream where he was cutting Mera'shar's throat with a golden knife when a figure walked in and approached him. He opened his eyes, and dared hope for a moment... "Myiona," he said, "how did you get here? Can you get me out?" He hopes were short lived. "I am not your Myiona," she said. Surprisingly, she Healed him as she spoke "But perhaps I can help you if you help me. Your double, Mera'shar, is a dangerous man and hopes to displace me in position. I cannot let him gain as much attention as this will bring him if all goes well. I will think about what I should do and speak with you again. Do not tell them anything." So far he had told them little but cries of pain. But he didn't think he would fare well helping this woman. At first glance, she was Myiona. But when he looked closer, he saw signs that should have tipped him of. There was no warmth in her eyes, only a hunger; a hunger that disturbed him. And her black robes only added to an already sinister air about her Myiona bent down and kissed him. He felt a chill of saidar rushed through him, and felt the bonding take place. Feeling her in his mind, so like yet unlike his own Myiona, was almost worse than the emptiness he felt before. The black-clad woman smiled like she knew what he was thinking "That will help you resist," Her smile turned evil "Perhaps later I will have them bring you to my tent for some fun." He didn't know what she believed fun was, but he was fairly certain he wouldn't like it. Or maybe he would. But he'd never forgive himself if he found out. Myiona gave an Uncharacteristically childlike giggle and swept from the room. Whatever she was up to, things seemed to be going his way. A few minutes later the door opened again, and one of the Aes Sedai holding his shield entered, carrying a tray. She mumbled that his food was ready, but n one wanted to enter while Myiona was here, so it wasn't brought in until now. Mura'shar thanked her and began to eat the thin stew. The woman sat down and watched him eat. Someone was always present while he ate. Probably so he wouldn't try to open his veins with his spoon. He was finishing his food when he saw something at the bottom of the wooden plate. Clearing away a bit of grease, he saw words seemed to be written on it: Be ready. A way out is near As he read them, the words faded. Was this a sick joke on Myiona's part? Or Mera'shar? Or one of the others? Or a mad scheme to get him killed in an escape attempt? Or maybe, just maybe, the Black Tower has found him and is planning an escape. He couldn't bring himself to hope for that. Right now he was wondering what fate was in store for him now that he's become a pawn in the politics of the Shadow.
___________________________
OOC No, the Black tower hasn't found him, and what happens next changes almost hourly in my mind:) But something is afoot, I can feel it...
Jake
Marked Asha'man

 Tareena, Ly'dara and Lina carefully made their way along the streets, pausing now and then to listen carefully at corners before they turned them. Nothing of interest had shown itself to them and they had not ran into any one of notice. Wondering if any of the other members had had any luck, Tareena decided they needed to head back to the camp. Upon entering the camp, Tareena looked around, hoping to find Ariana. Her stomach was bothering her again, the heat of the waste irritating it beyond belief. Two or three times while out searching the city she thought she was going to sick up. Not finding her, she continued on her way to her tent, one that she was currently sharing alone. She missed her bondmate. Always on missions they had shared the same sleeping space, out of necessity at first and then out of comfort. She missed his quiet presence and security. Oh well, loneliness will not kill me. Standing there in the heat might. Walking with her head down, she wasn't paying attention to where she was going and she felt herself stumble and begin to fall. She tensed, expecting to hit the ground, only to find herself being held up by her arm and saved from the hard rocky ground. Catching her balance and turning, she looked into Mur'ashar's face. For one instant she caught her breath, not understanding what she thought she read in his eyes. Then she laughed at herself and smiled at him. "Thank you so much, I thought for a minute there I was a goner." "Fancy meeting you here" he laughingly said to her. "We have to stop meeting like this" she said in return. It felt good to laugh, there had been very little of it since they had left the Tower. Mur'ashar continued to speak with her and at first, it felt comfortable but as the conversation continued she began to feel awkward. Mur'ashar had always been friendly towards her, they had shared a bond ever since her first mission when she had tried to kill him and he had forgiven her and placed his voice behind letting her join the tower, even though she was Seanchan. Yet, he was a quiet, unobtrusive man, rarely going out of his way to speak with anyone, let alone another female. Everyone knew he loved Myiona. Everyone knew Myiona had a temper, especially one of her best friends. Mur'ashar's actions had a touch of...flirtation to them, almost as if he was testing her, which was odd. I wonder if they have gotten into another fight? If so, she wanted no part of getting into the middle of that one, regardless of how much she liked them both. Quickly, but as unobtrusively as possible, Tareena politely ended the conversation, claiming tiredness, and headed towards her tent. Whatever was happening, she wanted no part of it.

 Myiona walked slowly back towards her tent. She was still a bit dazed from the kiss, and did not notice the man walking toward her. Another walked up behind her, boxing her between them. "Well," Honsare said, "look what we have here. It is the pretty little Domani who thinks she is too good for a couple of soldiers. Your bondmate isn't around to save you this time." Myiona looked around and realized that no one was in sight. She had wondered away from the camp without realizing it. Now she was truly on her own. "You do not want to do anything you will be sorry for later," she warned them. "Mura'shar was furious with you then. Just imagine his anger if you actually harm me." "How would he know that it was us?" the other man asked. "You could have run into some trouble while you were out. Perhaps that group we are tracking found you and decided to keep you from talking." The First Dragonsworn embraced the source and prepared to defend herself. It was then that Tareena appeared, heading straight for the group. ******************** Back in her tent, Myiona Shallon of the Black Ajah laughed. She had come up with an idea to discredit Mera'shar, and if all went well he would be in a trolloc cookpot before he knew what was happening. She kicked the man lying on her floor and told him to get up. "I want the prisoner brought to my tent immediately," she said. "If anyone dares to argue with you tell them it is the command of one of the Chosen." Technically it was true because they had given her authority to deal with any situation that came up. She had learned complete loyalty to both the Dragon and the Chosen. Myiona shivered remembering the intensity of those lessons. The flowing black dress swirled around her feet as she walked over to where the Aes Sedai knelt. "Your sisters have given you to me for discipline," Myiona said. "They seem to think you are planning to free the prisoner. It would be easier if you would go ahead and tell me the truth now. If I have to make you tell me the truth you will not enjoy the process." "I," the woman answered licking her lips nervously, "I confess that I thought to use the prisoner to gain freedom from Mera'shar. I offered him aid and hope. Please, do not tell him what I have done." Myiona smiled and patted the woman's head. "I will not inform on you," she said. "In fact I will help you free the prisoner. Perhaps he will kill Mera'shar and do us all a great favor. You must go back to your sisters and pretend nothing has happened here. You are under my protection now." The hope in the woman's eyes nearly made Myiona laugh. The fool actually believed that she mattered. She was just another pawn in a large game, a game that Myiona intended to win. Mura'shar was brought in and she could feel his emotions through the bond. "Well," she said, "they have not been treating you nicely. I am going to make sure that changes. No one is to touch the prisoner without my permission." The soldier nodded and left quickly. It was always amusing to her to see them scurrying away, as if that could save them from her attentions. With a smile, she turned back to the prisoner. "I have come up with a way to free you," she said, "but it will take some time. First, we must establish a routine of you coming to my tent every night. You will stay here until the morning when one of the Aes Sedai comes for you. After everyone is used to this routine, one of the Aes Sedai will sneak you out of the camp. They seem to hate Mera'shar as much as I do, but do not say anything around them because they would turn on me and each other to gain a small amount of favor with their master." "Since you are going to stay here tonight," she said, "I suppose you should get comfortable." She loosened the weave that shielded him from Saidin. "I trust that you will not try to escape before it is time. If you do, I will not be able to save you."

 Tareena wiped the sweat from her brow as she turned over on her pallet, hoping to catch at least some breeze coming from under the tent flaps. She had decided to lay down, hoping that it would ease the pain in her stomach. To no avail. Breathing deeply, she began to let her mind drift, hoping to find respite in sleep. It was wasteful to nap during the day but she couldn't help it. Slowly, slowly she felt herself begin to relax. Oppressive heat beat down upon her naked flesh, searing and ripping into her skin. Blood red and blistered, she stumbled and scrambled along the rocky, desolate ground. The vast wasteland stretched for miles with no relief in sight. Over and over she had screamed for help until her voice was a mere croak. She had been cast out of Rhuidean by her friends, no one believing that it had not been her who had killed. No one, not even her bondmate who had been the only one to trust her, in the beginning. WHY!! She screamed again, her voice bursting through her throat. I didn't do it, I am innocent, I am not an animal. She would have cried had there been any moisture left in her body for tears. Falling to her knees, she gave up the struggle, knowing it was futile. Her last thoughts were of her family, long lost to her now, and of her bondmate, who's love had been denied her, in the end. BAM! Tareena's head slammed against the ground, the instep of a black boot placed against her throat. Spitting blood, she looked up out of the corner of her eye only to close it once more in silent horror. Staring down at her was her Sul'dam, punishing her for some supposed misdeed once more. Molten lava coursed through her veins, the forgotten pain so intense she thought her heart would burst. She wanted to wail and scream but she knew that would only increase the pain. Her Sul'dam hated weakness, any show of emotion. She stoically tried to stifle her screams but knew that she was failing. Pain, pain, it was all she had known and it was back, worse than it had ever been. For one moment it subsided. Panting, she once again opened her eye and stared. I must be going mad, she thought to herself. No longer was it the face of her Sul'dam looming over her but it was her face, glaring fiercely and snarling out words of hate. "I am going to kill you" it said. She knew it for truth. Pain again, then blackness. With a gasp, Tareena sat straight up on her pallet, lungs billowing to inhale enough oxygen. Shaking and trembling she looked around, reassuring herself that she was alone. Wrapping her arms around her legs she willed herself to calm down, her heartbeat to slow. Loneliness so intense that it threatened to overcome her welled up inside of her. Always before when she had had a nightmare, Darren was there to soothe her, calm her down. Not today, maybe not tomorrow. Still shaking, she forced her legs to move and she got to her feet, making her way to the tent opening and out into the sunlight. Looking around, she wondered how many people had returned to the camp while she had been sleeping. Jittery and a little skittish, she wandered through the camp, finally deciding to head for Myiona's tent, knowing that she, at least, had returned. Not finding Myiona in her tent, she moved to the outskirts of the camp, not wanting to run into anyone else. She decided to take a walk, hoping to clear her head of the ugly nightmares. Not paying much attention to her surroundings, she continued to walk along, realizing that she was feeling sorry for herself, yet still spooked by the image of herself, holding an adam. Suddenly she felt Saidar being embraced, and quite near her. Rounding an outcropping of rocks, she took in the sight of Myiona, sandwiched in between two Soldiers, the very ones she had warned her about before. Embracing the source and rushing to catch up, she firmly planted herself in between one Soldier and Myiona, while ordering the other to join his companion. Hesitating, weighing her out, he did as he was told. Turning her back to them, she glared at Myiona.

 The world re-formed. They were in a jungle, hot, water-drenched. the Portal-stone was almost entirely buried in ferns and a thick mossy soil. Darren waited, silently, hiding behind a tree as best he could while still having a view. Darran took a look around, then Travelled again. Once again, Darren jammed the gate just slightly open just as it was collapsing. He pulled it open fairly quickly, and followed. He stepped into a furnace - the Aiel waste. Darren was glad he wasn't in regulation black. and... Tareena! [What is SHE doing here?] It suddenly struck him that he hadn't felt her for some time. Darran was far ahead, running into a city. [Rhuidean?] The whole city was enshrouded in a thick mist. [If Tareena is here, the whole Tower probably is. It's more important for me to find them than to track him down when my only weapons are my hands] Darren headed straight for Tareena, taking city streets and avenues equally, so long as they led towards her. Approaching one corner, he saw a knife lying in the ground, so he picked it up... and turned to look into the eyes of a particularly vicious man. It was easy to say that he was vicious since he was in the process of pinning a girl to the ground and slitting her throat. And that girl, he soon saw, was Alcinia! Darren charged, but was too late. The man stood up and turned to find a rapidly moving boot planted in his face. Him out cold, Darren hefted up Alcinia and continued on his way to Tareena.
**** Ok, someone has found your body, Alcinia... do you want it dead or alive? Sorry for two combat RP's in a row, but I've been sort of isolated.
Luke

 Tareena stepped between Myiona and the soldiers, and then turned her back on them. As she glared at Myiona, the Domani watched the men carefully. She could not know they held Saidin, but she thought it very likely. As the fireball flew from the hand of Honsare, Myiona dove at Tareena knocking her to the ground. Her body went limp as her head smashed upon a rock. "Oh trolloc guts," Myiona muttered. "I could have used her help here." The small Domani woman rolled and came up with a knife in her hand. She let it loose, and it found its mark in the chest of Honsare. The other soldier continued to advance upon Myiona, but she attacked him using the power. She knew she was not as strong as the man, so the Dragonsworn would have to rely upon speed and her mind. She slammed a wall of air against the soldier, knocking him to the ground. Then, she created a massive wall of fire that consumed him. His screams were horrible, but Myiona covered her ears and watched him burn. Then she walked over to where Honsare lay. He was hanging on to life by a mere thread. "Witch," he muttered, "you murdered him in cold blood." Tareena had regained consciousness and had stepped up behind Myiona, hearing the final words of the dying soldier. She spun the Domani around and asked, "What have you done?"

 Time passed as the four members of the Black Tower huddled out of sight the 'others' on the upper floors of the building they had entered. La'rece Barata'gan's mind raced over the possibilities that would explain the presence of a dead woman and … herself. Her 'other' self. *Well, apparently in this world we also exist … yet we are clearly different either through design or happenstance* The former Green knew too well that even hidden, the longer they stayed put without clear knowledge of the 'others' movements or whereabouts, it was simply a matter of time before their search parties found the Dragonsworn and her companions. Taking a deep breath, La'rece turned to Raileine, Shea, and Shahn. "Alright, we need to move from here and find a way back to warn the others. Unfortunately, the last known direction that the … Others were heading was the way we came in … therefore we need to find an alternate route. The rub is we don't know where they've gone since or how many more of them there are roaming about or … Light!" La'rece carefully walked over to the window ledge and studied the empty square below. The young Soldier, Shahn rocked from one foot to the other, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword, beads of perspiration beading on his forehead. Shea, in sharp contrast, seemed completely composed, and despite the heat, seemed to be faring fairly well. Even the redness that had suffused her skin seemed to diminish somewhat due to the time out of the direct light. Raileine, sat on a block of stone, her skirts dusty from the mornings activities. The Novice watched the Dragonsworn intently. "So, the plan is we'll move downstairs slowly and quietly keeping an eye out for any Others …" La'rece continued. "Excuse me, Dragonsworn" Shea interrupted. "Who is it that you saw? Who are these Others?" La'rece hesitated a moment before she spoke. There was something appraising, almost predatory about the shift of Raileine's eyes from the red-faced Shea to La'rece when the Initiate spoke. With more pressing matters at hand, the Dragonsworn shoved the thought to the back of her mind for later analysis.. It was probably just the Arafellan's heightened nerves. "The short answer is I don't know. An educated guess would be that they're either the thieves who have been stealing the ter'angreal, or another group … either way, I can't believe they mean anything good for the Black Tower forces here." La'rece took a breath before continuing. "One more thing, I … I suspect that they are us, or I should say, who we are in this reality. This world. But I suspect they may not be all that we would have them be." "How are they different, Aes Se… Dragonsworn?" Raileine's voice was anxious and frightened, but La'rece noticed the fear and anxiety did not reach the young woman's eyes. "I saw Ivan Gregorian, my bondmate. I know through my bond that he is not the man I am bonded to, but another Ivan." La'rece recalled how the tone of his voice and those of the strange Ivan's companions had made her flesh crawl. "and I saw … myself. And another Aes Sedai. A known Black Sister. One whom I assume likely serves the Dark One here, as well. " Shea and Shahn looked ready to have to do battle on the spot. La'rece doubted that if they found trouble it would be so easily dealt with … a mere sword fight. No, if trouble found them it would have much nastier weapons, she feared. The trick would be to stay together and not be captured or killed.. Easier said than done, but Stevan and the rest needed to be warned. *Blast Xyranthes and his knowledge of bloody portal stones! I need that angreal* Moving out, it did not escape the Dragonsworn's notice that Raileine did not look so much scared of a fight as she looked as if considering the possibilities. *What's up with her, I wonder. Can the fool girl actually be looking forward to the possibility of finding the Others? Perhaps she sees this as an opportunity to bring darkfriends to justice. Light! Just what I need a bloody Cadsuane in training!* Gesturing to the others to follow, La'rece said, "Stay close, no speaking, and again, no channeling Let's go." Starting down the stairs, the Dragonsworn did not see the smile that tried to quirk up the sides of the Novice's mouth. ***** "Ivan. Look!" Lu'rece The group had just rounded a corner and saw a man departing the far end carrying the body of a young woman. Another man lay in a heap on the ground, a knife by his side. Lu'rece and the others were too far away to reach the spot in time to stop the departing man. That was Darran. What's that fool up to now? Ivan kept moving leading the small group to where the body lay. "Fascinating. I could swear that that was Darran just now with the girl's body, but ...." Lu'rece and Brendana walked up beside the Asha'man. As one their heads turned to look at a young woman standing toward the back of their group. Walking directly to her, Ivan asked in a low voice, "You did not sense his presence?" The girl's head shook vigorously. A mere play thing, a tool for an Asha'man, she had learned long ago not hesitate when an Asha'man asked her a question or gave an instruction. A small scar above her right eye served as a constant reminder that only immediate obedience would keep her alive. The Black Sisters had refused to allow healing of the injury, saying that some lessons were best taught sharply. Turning to look back in the direction that the man who looked like Darran had gone, Ivan pondered the meaning behind what they had observed. Grunting to himself, the Asha'man said, "Alright, let's head back. It looks like we may have been followed here which means …" "… the other Tower is in Rhuidean." The wicked smile that spread across Brendana's face was a mirror to her fellow bondmate and fellow Black Sister's.. The Blue was a skilled strategist and quickly pieced together the clues coming to Ivan's same conclusion. "So, it would seem." Ivan nodded. "Let's speak with the others and establish a plan to eradicate this irritation." The body on the ground already forgotten, the group moved off to return to camp.
OOC: Luke, I hope I didn't step on toes. The girl's completely disposable Just wanted a way to quickly establish the knowledge of the two Tower's simultaneous presence … er, yeah Jamie, La'rece is simply curious about the usually timid Novice's behavior. No big whoop. I let you develop anything you want to reveal … Also, I don't see us being captured, but it should take a while to get back to the others, if we ever do … I'm gone for the weekend for my sister's graduation in Southern California (woo hoo), but I'll be back in action come Monday! Have a great one.
Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 Strange things were afoot at the circle plaza. That much was obvious. From the pale shadows of a half-collapsed alley, Aramis could see the entire plaza. Exactly what was afoot, he could not tell. He was sure of one thing, though: the Black Tower was plotting against him. And it wasn't like he was going mad, or anything, but Aramis was pretty sure that the morning's orders dealt with the location of thieves in Ruidean. From what he could tell, the Soldiers in that plaza were collecting as many of the ancient relics as they could find. It could be that they were simply disobeying orders and looking for an easy profit, but Aramis had lost his faith in simple naivete long ago. For a moment he thought he recognized one of the Soldiers, but the fellow was hunched over and whimpering to himself, and seemed to be a source of ridicule among his fellow Soldiers. He didn't recognize any of the others. Aramis thought to intervene, but something stayed his hand. Something instinctive. Slinking back deep into the shadows, Aramis turned to go. The blackcoats could go on looting, for all he cared. If they were disobeying orders, he would snatch them up back in camp. The alleys were as wide as streets in some places, so navigation wasn't too difficult. Of course, one must pay attention when walking so that he or she doesn't trip on objects in plain sight. Aramis had to remind himself of that as he tripped and landed painfully on his nose. But as he brushed himself off, he noticed what he had tripped over. A body. The body of a young Mayener thief, as a matter of fact. He cursed. Seizing Saidin, he delved Alcinia's body. There was some life left in it. The child was still alive. He picked her up to find help, any help, and fast, when a voice spoke from behind him. "So it was you that violated my Ward. I should have known." Aramis spun around and with surreal recognition realized he faced himself. almost himself. This man was the same he had noticed in the plaza, hunched and whining. But this man looked sickly, and his ears were tattered on the edges. "Aramis? Are you me?" This was too strange. "Aramis, Dog, Swine, I am called several different things. I'm supposed to kill you now. Not that I could. You are Asha'man," he whined bitterly. Aramis noticed this strange reflection of himself bore only the rank of Soldier. "I don't know what's going on here, but this woman needs our help. She is still alive." "So? Let her die." The Soldier held up his hands in resignation. Or what was left of his hands. Both of his hands were gone, ending in scarred, twisted stumps. Aramis tried not to stare, but failed. "Yes, you begin to see. In my world, I failed as a Dedicated. I could not stand up to the pressure of being Proven, so my hands were removed. It only took a week. My hands were nailed into a box full of starving rats. When the flesh was gone they hacked the bones off, and left me to heal as I would." Tears ran down Soldier Aramis' face as he remembered his torture. "They only healed me when I approached too close to death, and told me how lucky I was to be alive." "Aramis, help me. She's going to die soon." "I don't care. I want to die. Let her have her peace." "I can't. Help me!" And with that he set Alcinia down and poured all of his meager Healing ability into bringing life back into her. It bought her almost nothing. He had to find help. The Soldier Aramis spoke. "If you don't kill me, I'll kill her. I have that much ability." The reaction came without thought. Aramis' rapier flashed, and found it's mark, cleaving a cowardly and tortured heart in twain. And like a dog, he whimpered as he died. Cursing, and feeling strangely Mad, Aramis once again poured Healing into the limp form at his feet. "Wake up, woman. Don't you dare die on me." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Well, if I stepped on any toes, please disregard my insane rumblings and ramblings. hehehe
James aka Aramis

 As he finished peeling the last scraps of sword-metal off of his palms, Darran strolled into the temporary encampment in Rhuidean, and wondered who was in charge of matters today. Not that it really mattered. His plot was coming off rather well despite his having to leave Darren behind to try to fix matters. [I'll just get a new sword, and he'll be split up the middle in a matter of minutes] Then he saw Myiona. And he stopped examining faces to see who was in charge. She would be. And he did not need to report to her. Too late - she spotted him. A sharp look, wary as always and in a blessedly good mood. Nonetheless, she asked, "What did you do with your sword?" Darran had not thought of an answer to that yet, other than a slight embellishment. A foolish mistake could be disguised by inflating his foe's competence. "My opposite, Darren, is every bit as dangerous as I am." Myiona's sharp look changed somehow. "And what of your progress?" "I finished planting it. Darren's reaction will of course be to deny everything... but who will believe him?" "But might your leak allow them to ambush the exchange?" Darran smirked. "You agreed to provide the escort for that. Do you doubt the strength and preparedness of your own forces?" "Surprise has defeated overwhelming forces - all of the army of the Great One - in more than one world. I do not wish this world to become one such. And I will not be made to look foolish for it." Darran nodded. "I will be there too, and expect no offers of surrender. No threat you can make will make me prepare more thoroughly." Myiona was somewhat confused, perhaps affronted. But then she realized he simply meant that he was doing the best job possible. And the Great one would probably not revive someone as insignificant as him just so that she could punish him... so he was right, she could not follow through on any threats she made. Myiona nodded. "Then I hope your preparations are sufficient." Darran nodded in return, clearly pleased to have survived an encounter with her dreaded presence unharmed. "They shall be." **** No Darren section today. ;) **** Oh, one other thing - I will be out all next week, an a spectacular tour to faraway New York (my college is in Philadelphia, so this is pretty pathetic). Nothing like when we went to Venezuela two years ago. ::shakes head:: Luke
Darren/Darran

 Oriana watched the camp of this mysterious "black tower" from another world with contempt. Her small face was twisted in a laughing sneer as she saw Mera'shar enter as their "Mura'shar" with no suspicion whatsoever. Were all these people so naive? It was incredible. Her devious mind was screaming that this had to be some sort of trap- no one could be so stupid, much less an entire group of someones. But apparently they were. "Mura'shar" was greeted and accepted with no visible suspicion. From her rocky outlook post, Oriana laughed at such foolish weakness. When it was time for her to go and report, she took her time returning to camp. There was no telling if any of the others had found their doubles, but she had not seen her own. It was irritating; her twisted curiosity wanted to see what sort of a naive fool she was on some other world. Though she certainly found it hard to believe that any reflection of her could be a fool... Tomorrow she would find out, if she had to sneak into the camp and do it. ************ Ariana glanced nervously toward the rocky outcropping at the edge of the city; for some reason, she felt as though it were watching her. "Ridiculous," she chided herself. "Rocks don't spy on people." But the uneasiness refused to go away. ************ When Oriana returned to camp, there seemed to be a bustle of activity near the "leaders'" tents. Most likely there was a captive. Or a corpse. Either way, she'd find out soon enough, and without going over and making herself seem unknowledgeable. Oriana strove to know everything going on in the tortuous politics of the Tower, and she never, never allowed herself to be caught not knowing something. To this purpose, she had recruited a number of spies among those who were beneath notice- servants and new recruits, who would not question her and were easily intimidated. Some of the little fools even thought it exciting, playing spy for an indirect power. A smile touched the Amadician's lips at the thought. When she finally took power, they would be the first to lead the charges- and no doubt get themselves conveniently killed. She ran into one, seemingly by accident, outside her own tent. Glaring at the young man, she jerked her head and indicated that he should precede her. He did not waste time by bowing; apparently he was one who had learned the hard way what she thought of such empty gestures. Once safely inside and double-warded from eavesdroppers by an inverted weave, she turned to the Dedicated. "Yes? What is the commotion at the tents?" He babbled out news of a captive, named Mura'shar. Ahh, so that's where he went. I wondered whether our fearless leader caught or killed him. She smiled. She knew one or the other would soon make an attempt to use the captive to their advantage. And she was betting on Myiona; the woman was more power-hungry than the Dark One. Oriana nodded curtly at the man, and dismissed him. "Oh- and if you, or anyone for that matter, is waiting oh-so-casually by my tent the next time there is news.... they will discover that being staked out in the Waste without water is a pleasant way to die compared to what I will dream up." He gulped, nodded, and fled. Oriana frowned at his disappearing back. Hopefully the fool would slow down before his haste was noticed; strange behavior like running in this bloody heat would be noticed and questioned. There was no way he could betray her, though, so it was only his own hide in danger. Her smile returned, stronger than ever, as she began to plan. Surely she could think of a way to use this prisoner... It might help if she knew more about her counterpart in his tower, but she would do what she could to sow confusion and chaos in the meantime. An evil grin lit her face as the beginnings of a plan came to mind. No, i have no idea what she's plotting, but I'm sure it's not good for whoever's on the other end! Yikes, i don't like this person... she's mean! and a bunch of other adjectives.... ~E

 "Wake up, woman. Don't you dare die on me." The words seemed far away and distant, but they pulled at her. Alcinia's eyelids fluttered, but did not open. The pain of her injury was intense. "Hurts," she whispered and then lost consciousness again.

 Rahtul's eyes opened, his gaze already scanning the area. Sitting up, he wondered what day held for him, he giggled (yes, giggled) with glee, at the thoughts of the possibilities confronting him, another day of easy plunder was the way he saw it. Already he had taken many objects of power found in the city. He laughed at the others in there foolishness in playing with theirselves, well their otherselves from another world. He knew his mission, to obtain as many objects of power he could. But he knew if he did meet up with one of those people, they would have their throat slit before they knew it. Thus he went to begin another day of looting, snearing at the foolishness of the others openly. ~Ed well there is my alter ego, feel free to try to annoy him, not sure what I am planning to do with him yet.

 "Hurts..." The word was feeble, but it was also a sign of life. Of course it hurt. The wound in Alcinia's neck had closed; now Aramis had to keep the body alive. He needed to do something different. But what could he do? Angreal? Maybe... The Soldiers in the plaza were collecting things such as that. He glanced at the body of his maimed double. His pockets practically bulged. Aramis wasted no time rifling the pockets of the dead man. It was himself, after all. Some of the articles were broken bits of junk, but there was an angreal, shaped like an Avendesora leaf pierced by a sword. This he placed in his pocket. Then he found the rods. They were both about eight inches long, made of strangely colored stone, with figures carved at the end. One bore a woman, the other bore a man. Both figures cradled a small child in their arms. The rod bearing the woman was simply cold to the touch. But when Aramis grabbed the other one, it began glowing. Instantly he understood what he held. These were ter'angreal. The one bearing the woman and child, be thought, would not react to him because he channeled saidin. Then he understood their purpose: Regenerative Healing. It made perfect sense. A man with no hands would naturally jump at the chance for restoration. Aramis' own right-handed stump tingled, the first sensation he had felt in his right forearm since he had lost his hand over a year ago. Beside him, Alcinia groaned. A single tear slid down her cheek. Cautiously, Aramis reached over and folded the rod into Alcinia's hands and waited for a response. Nothing. But on sudden impulse, he channeled Spirit into the figure at the end of the rod. There was a blinding flash and a sound like children laughing. Aramis tried to ignore the warm fuzzy feeling in his head while he checked to make sure Alcinia was still alive. She definitely looked better. The rod, however, had snapped in two. Now all he could do was wait to see if she would wake up... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
James
aka Aramis

 Mera'shar spent much of the rest of the day wandering the camp. He learned everything he cold about who slept in which tent. La'rece and Myiona were here. Ariana was there. Stevan was over there, and so on. Knowing your enemy's position was always important, even if the battle was in the mind. Along the way, Mera'shar managed to pocket a knife. The hilt was a little small for is hand, but it would serve his purposes. It was a weapon that couldn't be traced back to him. You never know when something like that may come in handy. He wondered how these sheep could let a wolf like him into the fold. And so trusting...these people were so loyal to each other. His own Black Tower was a maze of armed camps with swiftly changing boundaries and alliances. Here everyone trusted each other... Through the bond, Mera'shar felt his new bondmate's rage and terror. It was almost a relief to feel such familiar emotions once again The rage grew and swallowed the fear. Something very interesting was happening. He followed the bond until he reached Myiona and Tareena. Tareena was getting to her feet. There was blood on the side of her head and a lump was forming. Myiona stood over a pair of bodies. One had a knife in his heart. The other was burnt beyond recognition. They were both Soldiers of the Black Tower. Which one he couldn't say. As he approached, he heard Tareena speaking to Myiona "What have you done?" she asked. To Mera'shar, it seemed obvious. She was displeased with a couple of Soldiers, so she killed them. What was the problem here? Acting concerned. Mera'shar first approached Tareena and treated her injury, then went over to Myiona. "Myiona what happened? Are you all right? I felt something through the bond and thought there was trouble" He glanced at the bodies, then at Myiona's tear-streaked face. "What happened, Myiona, you can tell me" Inside his mind, Mera'shar's thoughts were turning. Murder upset these people. A lot. Maybe he could turn that to his advantage. A couple of plans began to form. ----------------------------------------------------------- The last bout of questioning left Mura'shar with a torn artery in his leg. After he was Healed, he was left alone to sleep and regain his strength. He was awakened by a Soldier, who told him he was to be brought to Myiona. The managed to look both looked sympathetic and a bit envious at the same time. Mura'shar's legs didn't want to work after not standing for so long. He had to be helped to walk until his strength had returned enough to walk unaided. When they reached Myiona's quarters, they saw an Aes Sedai scurry out. She was one of Mura'shar's Aes Sedai keepers? Has he been betrayed? Or was this some complex joke that's only now being revealed? Myiona was waiting as they entered. Mura'shar felt a sense of satisfaction through the bond. She looked him over for a moment and made a declaration. "Well," she said, "they have not been treating you nicely. I am going to make sure that changes. No one is to touch the prisoner without my permission." The Soldier knew better than to argue. He bowed and practically ran out of the room. Myiona laughed at his fright. Still smiling she turned her attention back to Mura'shar. "I have come up with a way to free you," she said, "but it will take some time. First, we must establish a routine of you coming to my tent every night. You will stay here until the morning when one of the Aes Sedai comes for you. After everyone is used to this routine, one of the Aes Sedai will sneak you out of the camp. They seem to hate Mera'shar as much as I do, but do not say anything around them because they would turn on me and each other to gain a small amount of favor with their master." Was Myiona the one who left the message? It didn't seem possible, no matter how much he wanted to believe that this woman who wore Myiona's face and used her name. She is not helping him, she's helping herself, and would kill him in a moment if that advanced her agenda. Myiona continued "Since you are going to stay here tonight," she said, "I suppose you should get comfortable. I trust that you will not try to escape before it is time. If you do, I will not be able to save you." With that, the shield was gone. Mura'shar filled himself with saidin almost to bursting. It felt so good to channel again, even with the taint. He could knock Myiona down now, flee back to his so-familiar cell and Travel... But Myiona would be prepared for that. No doubt he would be killed if he tried that. Or captured. He can't face the whole Tower alone. Reluctantly, he released saidin. At least the questioning will stop. "It seems I have no choice but to accept your generous offer" he told her with a formal bow. Then he rubbed his unshaven face and looked down at is dirty, tattered, bloodstained clothes "But if I am to be your guest here, would there happen to be some place where I can get cleaned up?"
Jake
Marked Asha'man

 Striding into camp with the rest of Ivars's (name change … oops!) scouting party, Lu'rece and Brendina radiated an air of venomous danger. Years of serving Shai'tan from within the Black Ajah had honed their skills in deception … and perception. The two shared a look and leaving Ivars to deal with reporting their findings, headed directly toward Myiona's tent. Lu'rece, as well as Brendina, knew of their Sister's plans to undermine Mera'shar. The man was an idiot as well as a fool. For her part, Lu'rece thought the man needed to be dealt with in a way that even Graendal could envy. The man was fit and not unpleasing to the eye. Brendina, like Myiona however leaned more toward the Semirhage school of disciplinary, interrogatory, and strategy school of thought. Lu'rece was no stranger to causing pain, even extreme pain. She had once systematically exterminated two entire caravans of Tinkers for no reason other than that they had, with their garish wagons and clothes, made the mistake of setting up their encampment outside her estate within her line of sight. She had rewarded the three Myrdraal who had assisted her by giving them each one of her nieces. Lu'rece was fairly certain even one of the Chosen would have admired that week's festivities. As the two women made their way through the camp, movement caught Lu'rece's eye. Laying a hand on Brendina's arm to stop her, Lu'rece tilted her head in the direction of the tent belonging to Oriana. As they watched, a Dedicated who was infamous as a spy for anyone with an iota of power or influence emerged and hastily took off in the direction the two women were heading … to Myiona's tent. "Well, well, well. What have we here?" Brendina said in a soft voice dripping with barely concealed malice. The young woman Oriana was in many ways every bit as ambitious as Lu'rece's fellow bondmate. Brendina spent her energy on being positioned to succeed if and when Myiona's plans blew up in her face. Lu'rece on the other hand, was content to ride behind the likes of Myiona and Brendina in battle. More often than not, the vanguard suffered the heaviest casualties and Lu'rece had no intention of ending up a statistic in the Great Game being played by the Chosen and the various factions within the Black Tower. No, she was going to survive even if it meant killing others indiscriminately. As irritating as the woman could be, it was a shame she couldn't easily dispose of Brendina herself. But the bond connecting the two women prevented it. The Black Sister often fantasized about imprisoning the woman in the Dream World or leaving her stranded in one of the many worlds reachable only through the Portal Stones. "It would seem that we have another player on the board, Brendina. If a minor one. Leave her for now. Let's go pay a visit to Myiona and find out if there have been any … developments" Lu'rece smiled at her bondmate. The smile did not touch her eyes. As the Lu'rece walked on, Brendina said, "As you say, Lu'rece. This should be interesting."
Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan (and introducing Lu'rece, her evil twin!)
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 "Myiona what happened? Are you all right? I felt something through the bond and thought there was trouble." Mura'shar asked. "What happened, Myiona, you can tell me" "Those pigs," she said touching Honsare with her boot, "thought to attack me when I was alone. Tareena came upon us and I had to kill them." Her eyes pleaded with him to understand, even though she could tell that Tareena thought the worst of her. The Seanchan looked away, refusing to meet Myiona's eyes. With a sigh, Myiona turned and walked away, back toward her tent. "If anyone still wishes to talk with me," she said, "I will be inside my tent." ********** "It seems I have no choice but to accept your generous offer" he told her with a formal bow. "But if I am to be your guest here, would there happen to be some place where I can get cleaned up?" "Of course," Myiona replied looking at him closely. "I do believe you could use a bath and some new clothing." She stepped to the door and spoke softly to the man waiting outside. In just a few moments a rub was brought in followed by buckets of hot water. Looking at his face, she laughed and said, "I will just wait outside for you to finish. We can get to know each other better later." Two of Ivar's bondmates came walking toward Myiona's tent. "Brendina and Lu'rece," the Aes Sedai of the Black Ajah said, "I was beginning to think you would miss our little tea party." "I'm afraid we will have to hold it outside today," Myiona continued, "since my new guest is a bit leery of being seen while he is bathing." A young, handsome soldier appeared carrying a tea set and pillows. Myiona took a moment to admire him openly and decided to add him to her bondmates as soon as possible. She looked up to see the open hatred on Brendina's face, but schooled her own expression to reveal nothing. The women discussed their plan about disposing of the upstart Asha'man, Mera'shar. Finally, Brendina ran off feeling Ivar's displeasure. "Stay a moment longer, Lu'rece," Myiona said. "I sense that you have a problem with your bondmate, but fear dealing with her directly because of the bond. If I were to offer my aid, would you be interested?"

 Lu'rece smiled and inclined her head. She glanced at the man inside Myiona's tent dismissively. He was attractive, but he was Myiona's plaything and of no use to Lu'rece. Perhaps when she was finished ... "You're never one to beat around a bush, Myiona. Let's speak frankly and openly." Lu'rece channeled and a chair floated over to where she stood. Taking a seat and carefully arranging her skirts, Lu'rece looked Myiona in the eye. "I want her dead, yes. This is probably not even a secret to Brendina, though she knows I would never dare kill her out of hand. No more than she would me, thus is the nature of our bond. Ivars was a fool to bond that ... 'du'sha'najk' Myiona arched an eyebrow at Lu'rece's colorful use of the Trolloc tongue in describing her bondmate. "Every day she becomes more ambitious. It's her desire to serve the Great Lord in ways that are more to forwarding her advantage than pursuing his will. She rebels against the plans laid by the Chosen and our Master." Lu'rece sneered the last. Myiona smiled. "Surely were you to punish such a one you would only win favor with ... our Master." It was ever a game of cat and mouse trying to determine which of the Chosen any one member of the Black Ajah might be serving at any given time. Myiona knew that Lu'rece had carried out missions for both Lanfear and Moghedien, and suspected the woman had done the same for others of the Chosen. Not knowing was a dangerous aspect of the Great Game as played amongst the men and women with the ability to channel that served the Great Lord. Lu'rece just looked at Myiona for a long moment. Would Myiona really help, or was it a trap? The two darkfriends were both experienced in the art of betrayal and neither trusted the other as far as they could throw the whole of Rhuidean. But Myiona's assistance could make the process of dealing with Brendina much easier. "Perhaps all Brendina needs is ... time away from all of this" Lu'rece gestured off-handedly at their surroundings. Understanding Lu'rece's veiled suggestion, Myiona smiled and said, "Of course. A long holiday might be just the thing." Lu'rece inclined her head in acknowledgement of their tenuous agreement. Myiona did likewise. "So, Myiona" Lu'rece said turning her attention back to her fellow Black sister's current guest, "what do you have here? I cannot believe that you've actually managed to shield and hold Mera'shar, though I'm sure you'd love to." Seeing the expression harden on Myiona's face, Lu'rece added, "As would I, my dear. As would I."
Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan (and the evil Lu'rece)
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 Alcinia opened her eyes a tiny bit and saw Aramis bending over her. She closed her eyes against the glare of the sun. Her throat was dry and it took her a few minutes to speak. "Why," she asked, "did you heal me? You should have let me die." The Mayene thief did not feel that she belonged at the Tower, like she had never really belonged anywhere. She had no family and no real friends. The man who attempted to kill her had been doing both the world and Alcinia a favor.

 Myiona smiled at Lu'rece's suggestion to give Brendina "time away from all of this." Myiona smiled and said, "Of course. A long holiday might be just the thing." "So, Myiona" Lu'rece said looking toward the tent, "what do you have here? I cannot believe that you've actually managed to shield and hold Mera'shar, though I'm sure you'd love to." Myiona knew at that point she allowed the facade she wore to slip a bit. Especially when Lu'rece added, "As would I, my dear. As would I." "It is not Mera'shar," Myiona replied, "but his double from the other world. If I were not so intent upon spoiling his plans I would add him to my collection. It would be interesting to break his morals." She sighed and allowed her mind to consider the possible ways she could enjoy the man inside her tent. Myiona shook her head and smiled at Lu'rece. "I will not allow my plans to be fouled by anyone," she said. "Mera'shar has stepped on my toes one too many times and I intend to see him suffer for all eternity."

 As always, Xyranthes had chosen to go investigating alone. Wandering the massive city, the old Cairheinian felt lead, guided, and found himself staring at a massive building, stretching far up into the night sky. The climb proved to be more than just annoying. Winded and in pain, the strain on the ligaments and joints in his knees complaining, Xyranthes finally reached the top. There, standing regale in his black coat, framed by delicate weaves of the power, stood his counterpart. "Ceranthes, Zaranthes, how has your world twisted my name?" Came the question. "X, Y, actually, and yours would be..." "Zeranthes, master of the tower, though few know it. I learned from the best, a spider in waiting, watching and playing. Yet my fangs are hidden, and my voice sweet, so the fools let me alone." The self proclaimed master wove a few more stands and created two twin thrones of stone from the floor of the room. Xyranthes slowly lowered himself into the throne, giving him a chance to look around. Opulence was not the real trait of his host. Most of the furnishings had been hastily put up, probably just for this visit. The massive paintings had the look of being hung quickly, many of the tiny statues had no dust underneath, yet the city was full of dust and decay. And in a group of statues, something that caught the nobleman's eye. He let the image slide out of view, revealing nothing outwardly of the sheer joy and shock. He spent more time on the weaves then anything else. "To mask both sight and sound I assume? The general effect is to create the appearance of an empty room, even if the person should enter into it?" Xyranthes queried, gesturing to the weaves that now flowed around the entire room. "Yes," replied his host, "quite clever of you to figure it out, but then, we both know we are better than the others. With knowledge comes power, and with power comes the inevitable superiority. Don't you agree?" "Yes, quite clever, but not necessarily with the rest." Xyranthes stood, and went over to a nearby Angreal. Picking it up, he turned it over in his hands, but was careful not to touch the One Power. Zeranthes might not react kindly to that. "Quite an impressive collection you have here, though this piece is several thousand leagues from Tear. How?" "I've been collecting since I was a child. I was the first to enter Rhuidean. I saw things that few have ever seen in this world." "The Aiel did not oppose you?" "How could those sniveling pacifists even oppose me? They follow their foolish leaf ways." "Our worlds are truly different, you never had The Division here." Xyranthes filed this away, it would prove most useful in his future dealings. "As such you should no that I would never serve the Dark One." "Oh, but you have, as have I. Aginor was..." "That was a long time ago. Trolloc and Myrdraal, and other things no longer trouble my conscious." "Pity, that was some of our finest work." Xyranthes said nothing, but replaced the Angreal where he found it.
Peter <><

 Time seemed to suspend itself as Tareena felt herself falling to the ground. She felt her head rebound off of something very hard and then all was blackness. With a groan, she lifted her head in time to hear the soldiers dying words, condemning Myiona for her killing. Getting to her feet, she spun the 1st Dragonsworn around shouting what have you done. Mura'shar came to the two women, offering his help with Tareena's wound. Thoughts were swirling in her head, rage threatening to overcome her. "Myiona what happened? Are you all right? I felt something through the bond and thought there was trouble." Mura'shar asked. "What happened, Myiona, you can tell me" "Those pigs," she said touching Honsare with her boot, "thought to attack me when I was alone. Tareena came upon us and I had to kill them." Her eyes pleaded with him to understand, even though she could tell that Tareena thought the worst of her. The Seanchan looked away, refusing to meet Myiona's eyes. With a sigh, Myiona turned and walked away, back toward her tent. "If anyone still wishes to talk with me," she said, "I will be inside my tent." Tareena watched her friend stalk away,. knowing that somehow she had failed her, but knowing too, that the killing was wrong. Deciding to take the bull by the horns, she followed Myiona, into the camp and straight to her tent. Telling herself to calm down, did little good. She was in a fury when they finally found themselves alone in the tent. "You didn't tell Mura'shar did you Myiona? Instead, you lied to me and look what happened! You had no intentions of telling him or Stevan did you? DID YOU?"

 Myiona stepped inside the tent and took a deep breath. It took all of her resolve not to fall upon the floor and weep. Killing had never been easy for her, but it had been necessary as it had been every time before. The Domani was not really surprised when Tareena burst in upon her. "You didn't tell Mura'shar did you Myiona?" she asked with sarcasm and condemnation in her voice. "Instead, you lied to me and look what happened! You had no intentions of telling him or Stevan did you? DID YOU?" "I intended to tell him," Myiona protested, "but there was no time. First, we were cut off from each other while exploring and then . . . Tareena, you have to believe me." The First Dragonsworn turned away from her friend so she would not see the tears on her face. "I did not kill either of them in cold blood. They were . . ." Myiona turned back to see that Tareena had left, not bothering to listen to her explanation. "Great," she muttered. "This will not go down well. Stevan will jump on any chance to see me brought down. He never has liked me."
Vicky aka Myiona

 With an oath, La'rece ducked back behind the pillar. Another group was patroling in the area ahead and the Dragonsworn had no way of quickly determining if they were with the Black Tower or with the Others. La'rece and her small scouting party had spent the entire day slowly making their way back toward the Black Tower's camp, careful to avoid detection. The patrol that had just past in the direction they had most recently come from was the sixth such group they had encountered. Peering around the corner once again, La'rece scanned the narrow street searching for signs of Others. Seeing none, she motioned the rest of her party to follow her. As they made their way down the street, La'rece kept looking behind them to the far end to make certain no one saw them. Reaching the end of the street, La'rece once again carefully peered around the corner looking in both directions for any sign of the Others. The wide avenue looked empty but a feeling made the Arafellan hesitate. Not a moment later, another patrol entered the avenue and headed toward them. Needing to act quickly, La'rece wove a light bending shield around herself, Shea, Raileine, and Shahn. It would not stop people or weapons from passing through, but the small group would be invisible. If there were women who could channel with the patrol, they would sense the use of Saidar. Inverting the weaves, La'rece was counting on them not feeling her channeling long enough to pinpoint the group's location. La'rece grimaced. The patrol, led by a woman, was moving right toward the spot where the group stood. The terrified look in Raileine's and Shea's faces spoke of a strong desire to run. Shahn looked as though he were about to pass out from fright. The Dragonsworn held her breath as the patrol walked into the alley barely missing brushing Raileine's skirts. At one point, La'rece looked down to see that one of the men in the patrol was standing so close to the weave that a portion of his heal had entered the dome To anyone in outside the dome, it would appear as though a part of his foot had disappeared. Luckily, no one noticed and the patrol moved on. As the party left the narrow street returning to the avenue to continue on their original course, the woman who led the party paused letting the others go on. The woman stood watching the street for a long moment, then abruptly turned and disappeared out of view following the rest of the patrol. La'rece let out a loud sigh that was echoed by each of the other Black Tower members. Releasing the weave, the Dragonsworn led the group to the edge of the street once again. Checking to be sure the patrol was gone, La'rece led the group at a brisk pace out onto the avenue. La'rece estimated that they were only a short distance from the Black Tower camp. "Alright, let's go. Quickly, people. Quickly." Setting a fast pace, La'rece began to lead her small group down the avenue. A sudden flaring pain in her shoulder made the Dragonsworn stop. An arrow stood out from her shoulder, blood beginning to seep through her shirt. Down the avenue in the direction they had just come from stood the woman along with two men. Each of the men held a crossbow. "Run! For your lives, get back to the camp! Now! Run!" Heeding her own words the Dragonsworn turned and began running. A soft whisk next to her ear told her she had just missed being skewered by another arrow. However, the arrow did manage to find a target. The young Soldier Shahn lay sprawled on the ground, his eyes already glazing over, the arrow through his neck. La'rece paused only a moment then turned to face the on coming attackers. Channeling a dangerous amount of Saidar, even for her, the Dragonsworn turned the air to flame down the length of the avenue. The screams and shrieks of men and women dying gave the Arafellan little comfort. Releasing the destructive weave, the Dragonsworn channeled again, this time creating a pallet of air which lifted the body of the slain Soldier. Raileine and Shea stood wide-eyed down the avenue watching as La'rece with Shahn's body floating before her made her way back to them. "If I'm not mistaken, we'll find the Camp around that corner up ahead. Let's go. I need to find Myiona …" the Dragonsworn's voice became soft as the pain in her shoulder increased. They'd managed to find trouble once again, but then the Black Tower always did. As they turned the corner to find the Black Tower camp, La'rece wondered what other discoveries had been made this first day in Rhuidean.
OOC: Raileine and Shea, we're back in the Black Tower camp so feel free to break loose, if you'd like.
Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 Mera'shar gave the two o Dragonsworn a few minutes head stat, then followed them to Myiona's tent. Yes, this would be perfect. He just had to get Tareena alone for a moment. Tareena was just leaving the tent when Mera'shar reached it. She looked absolutely furious. Mera'shar took her arm "May we speak together for a minute, in private?" He had none of the playful banter from before. He was playing a serious role now. Tareena nodded, still fuming, and Mera'shar led her towards the far edge of the camp, where no one was likely to eavesdrop. When he was satisfied that they were alone, he pt an awkward edge to his voice, like he was suddenly unsure if he should speak. "I...I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier, but there's something I've been meaning to tell you. It's Myiona. I, I don't think those Soldier's deaths were entirely her fault. I may have played a role in it" Mura'shar, you aren't to blame" Tareena was quick to reassure him "You were nowhere near them when it happened. And Myiona didn't tell you they were planning something, did she?"' No, but she has been acting, I don't know, odd, lately. At first I thought I was being paranoid, but she's been having foul mood swings lately. Once when I brought those two Soldiers up, she actually said she hoped they'd try something again. That she'd show them what it meant to trifle with her!" Mera'shar lowered his voice "I should have told someone. That's why I'm to blame. But it seemed so unlike her" Tareena listened in silence, letting him vent his "feelings" By the time he finished, his gaze turned thoughtful "Could she e sowing symptoms of that disease the Windfinders were showing when we visited the Land of the Madmen? Land of the Madmen? Not wanting to talk too much of events he wasn't familiar with, he shrugged "I don't know. Healing was never a major Talent of mine" That last statement was the first truthful one he had made thus far. "I may be reading too much into nothing, for all I know. I just felt that somebody should know that she may not be entirely responsible for her actions. Just in case..." he let his voice trail off, letting Tareena read into it what she would. "I understand. Thank you Mera'shar. I will think on it. I know how difficult this must be for you. She gave him a sympathetic smile and patted his arm. "It's getting late, and there is another big day ahead. We should be getting back" "Yes, I have a few more things to do tonight. And Myiona will want some company. She may want to talk about what happened" Mera'shar made his farewells and started back to his tent. As soon as he was out of sight, he changed directions. He ducked behind an empty tent and channeled. Now it was Xyranthes, or rahter a Mask of Mirror s of him, who stepped out. He strode purposefully towards his direction, like he was on an important errand. It was full dark as he approached Stevan's tent. It was occupied. Good, he wouldn't have to hunt for him. Keeping his knife concealed, he ducked into the tent. This camp will be in chaos by morning, with any luck.
Jake
Marked Asha'man

 No more than a few minutes had passed since Tareena left. Myiona was considering what she should do to rectify the problem with Tareena when La'rece came hurrying inside the tent. "You look as bad as I feel," Myiona said motioning for the other Dragonsworn to sit down. "What happened? Do you want me to send someone for Ariana?" ***************** Meanwhile, in the other camp, Myiona sent for Brendina requesting her help on an important mission. "I cannot think of anyone else," she said flattering the other woman, "that the Chosen would welcome a report from. Sometimes getting their attention is a bad thing, but in your particular case they have been positive." The two women walked out to the portal stone, each wrapped from head to foot in dark cloaks. Myiona chose the coordinates carefully, since she had no intention of taking her to their home world. As the stone activated, she smiled in anticipation of the amount of pain it would ultimately cause the other woman. "Here we are," Myiona said almost cheerfully, turning toward the other woman. The weave of pure spirit hit her hard, knocking Brendina senseless. "Now, that should send up a warning beacon that will be seen back to the capitol. Your captors will arrive before you regain consciousness. I hope you like life with the Seanchan." She activated the stone and stepped back into her own world to report what had been learned to her superiors. Myiona carefully concealed her intentions in the other world, making the interview brief because she had to oversee the "bloody fools from the tower." Myiona stepped back in the tent and walked over to where Mura'shar was sleeping. She could see the appeal her other self found in this man and briefly considered keeping him for herself. Her ambition overruled her passions, leaving her planning the downfall of Mera'shar.

 Stevan watched as Shea left his tent, the implications running through his reeling mind, dancing in the confusion of his soul. Andraia sat next to him, and her face revealed the same emotion as his, a strange, contorted mixture of horror and puzzlement. "Did you hear that the same as I did?" He turned to Andraia and spoke with disbelief in his voice. Andraia nodded silently, then muttered. "I did." Stevan was still thinking about the implications, if what Shea had reported was true. The thieves were another Black Tower, in another world. But that was not all, instead of being loyal to the Dragon and to the Light, they were Darkfriends, evil to the core. He was so carried away in his thoughts he almost didn't notice that Andraia had continued. "Do you think they know about us? They might even try to infiltrate our camp - pretend to be their counterpart. How could we trust each other if that happened?" Now that was something that Stevan hadn't even begun to think about, and his mind filled with a terror more sickening than the Taint. This mission would end up being more than just a battle between two groups of channellers; this was a mission of spying, intrigue and intelligence as well. The question was, who would gain the upper hand? Still shaking, he replied to his bondmate. "I...I...hope that will not happen. First I would like to discuss with Xyranthes about the possibility of all this. I know I can trust him, he knows everything and is one of the most honest men I know." Just then Stevan heard a rustle, and he turned to see Xyranthes entering his tent. He could hardly disguise his pleasure at seeing the elderly Asha'man just at the moment when he needed his advice. "Speak of the Dark One! Xyranthes, I don't know whether you've heard but..." Stevan stopped in horror as a knife appeared in Xyranthes' hand and was launched towards him, before the librarian turned and ran away into the night. Stevan gasped as the knife thudded into the side of his chest, just below his left shoulder. Andraia stared in shock, pain and disbelief as she watched blood run from his wound. "Get a Healer, quick!" he cried, gazing at his wound. Luckily it had missed any important organs, and if he could be Healed soon, then he would survive. He lay back, attempting to ignore the pain, and thought. Now he knew he could trust no one, a conclusion just a few minutes earlier he wished he would never have to draw. How could he talk to his War Council again? How could he confide in anyone when they might be the enemy. All he knew was that Andraia was herself, and no one else. Then a small smile formed on his lips as a plan came into his head. Let's turn the tables... ****************************************************************************** ******************
Steve
-----------------------------------------------------------
M'Hael of the Black Tower
Marked Asha'man Stevan Jaer Ingaren
Lord of Fal Sion
-----------------------------------------------------------
<><

 You had no intentions of telling him or Stevan did you? DID YOU?" "I intended to tell him," Myiona protested, "but there was no time. First, we were cut off from each other while exploring and then . . . Tareena, you have to believe me." Tareena felt the knot of rage pulsing inside of her quickly turn to something else. With a barely suppressed groan, she turned and rushed outside, intending to empty her stomach for all it was worth. Not getting that far, Mura'shar grabbed her arm and asked to speak with her. Breathing heavily through her nose to try to calm her stomach, it must have seemed to him as though she were furious, when inside was a mass confusion of feelings. Speaking with him made her feel no better, and if anything, worse than she had before. He seemed to be implying that Myiona went looking for the men, not that they had cornered her, as she had said. Mura'shar would not lie to her, after all they had been through. Leaving him, she did go and find a quite place to sick up, feeling no better once she had. I must find Ariana to get some help, this has gone on way to long. But first, I have to speak with Stevan, I cannot hide this from him, much as I want to. I cannot protect her from this. Sooner or later those Soldiers will be missed and then there will be hell to pay. Stiffening her shoulders, she continues through the tents willing herself to place one foot in front of the other. She felt as though she were marching to a death sentence, or her friend's anyway. Yet, if she had only done as she was told to do, if she had only listened this would not have happened. Tareena felt the anger return and was not pleased with that. Nearing Stevan's tent, she saw Ariana hurry and enter, followed by another soldier, Nick she thought. That boy had tried not to leave Ariana's side since coming to the tower. Wondering what all of the commotion was about, she hurriedly ducked under the tent flap, only to gasp as she saw Ariana begin to heal a gaping knife wound in their leaders shoulder. Well, my news will certainly have to wait. Stevan is certainly in no condition to listen to me now. Tareena wasn't sure if the emotion she felt was relief or frustration. Maybe a little of both.

 As soon as Mera'shar entered the tent, he saw that Stevan was not alone. His bondmate Andria was with him. They both seemed glad to see "Xyranthes" "Speak of the Dark One! Xyranthes, I don't know whether you've heard but..." Without wasting a moment, Mera'shar drew back and threw his knife. The throw went wide and sank itself deep into Stevan's shoulder. Mera'shar turned and ran before either occupant could react. Once outside, Mera'shar opened a gateway and traveled back to his own Black Tower, where he grabbed one of the Dedicated in charge of the prisoner and asked if anything new has been learned "Not much, sir. He has a strong will. We can't even get him to say his real name. The most we get is an occasional name he cries out when he's delirious usually Myiona" he looked a bit confused at that But we've had a little success with inducing him to relive memories, especially ones that have strong emotions involved. We've been able to extrapolate a little from what he says. "All right, keep that up, I'll expect a full report when I return" Mera'shar began to weave another gateway back to camp when the Dedicated interrupted him "We can't " Mera'shar seized him with the One Power and hoisted him into the air "Explain yourself" e growled "Quickly" Gasping for air, the Dedicated explained how Myiona discovered the prisoner, and had him transferred to her quarters. Now Mura'shar was under her authority and was not to be touched "Myiona Mera'shar murmured. One of the few people in the tower, male or female, that gave him pause. Both held great authority in the Black Tower and both had aspirations to become Chosen. This new development was disconcerting to say the least. Slowly, Mera'shar lowered his henchman to the ground. "Very well" he said. "There's nothing to be done about it for now. But keep her quarters under surveillance. If an opportunity arises, grab Mura'shar. I'm going back before I'm missed" With that he opened a gateway and stepped back into the camp of the other Black Tower. Less than five minutes had passed since e threw his knife at Stevan. He appeared close to Myiona's tent. He walked around to the front and scratched at the door to the tent before opening it. It's me, Myiona" he said softly "I've spoken to Tareena. I told her you couldn't possibly have deliberately killed those two. Something must have provoked you. I thought you might want to talk."

 The tent flap flung open, admitting a frantic young Soldier who babbled out something all in a rush. Ariana didn't catch much more than "Dragonsworn Ariana" at the beginning of it, but she could already tell it was trouble. She nodded as soon as he'd finished, grabbed the always-prepared bag of supplies she kept by the door, and hobbled after him as quickly as she could. On the way, she picked up a follower- she guessed easily who it was- and motioned him to follow her. He brought her to Stevan's tent, and shoved her inside with what would have been rudeness if he hadn't been so obviously terrified. When she got inside, however, the Healer relaxed a little. The gaping wound- made by a knife, thrown from not more than three feet away, she judged- was only on his shoulder, and though bloody would not be fatal. Especially not when I'm here. She dropped to her knees, grateful and determined all at once, and spread her hands over the wound after pulling away the ragged edges of the shirt sleeve. Stoically, he didn't make a sound as she separated cloth from flesh. Then she seized the Source and wove saidar, one of the simpler weaves she knew. Flesh knitted, muscle rejoined, arterioles fused, beneath her will. She smiled as she finished. It seems Rae Sedai's preliminary lessons were not completely without value- I did think that one up in her class when I wasn't taking notes on the history of the White Tower. To Stevan, she only said, "Don't use the arm very much for a day or two. It is mended, but the healing takes energy and causes stress." She smiled. "I don't suppose I get to learn how it happened?" The nice young Soldier who'd followed her here extended a hand to her. She recalled that he'd had an interest in Healing, and wondered if he'd survive this mission long enough to learn. Were there Healing classes for the men? She didn't know; it was such a rare talent among them. She started to accept, but realized that her hands were covered with blood from the grisly task of cleaning the wound, and got herself up awkwardly. "Everyone will learn, eventually," Stevan said grimly, and Ariana wondered at the tone of his voice. "May I go clean off first, M'Hael?" She gestured with her red hands. He nodded, and she left. When she had finishedc rinsing and scrubbing her hands, her mind started wondering at the cause of the knife wound. If one of the thieves on this world had done it, that meant they were in the camp! She shivered and automatically looked over her shoulder. It was a frightening thought- and since these people were apparently capable of getting into the camp undetected, she had to wonder how many there were. She decided to begin watching for the Power, since that could easily provide illusionary faces. And how many were here, in the ranks already and unsuspected? The blood on her hands might soon be from fighting, not Healing. She shivered again despite the heat. Do we know that these people are us yet? I could not remember...
~E

 Andraia massaged her forehead with her hand as the report of the other Tower was given. As if the sun that had surrounded their Rhuidean hadn't given her enough of a lasting headache, now she had to be told that there were doubles, virtually indistinguishable from themselves, running around with evil intentions. It was enough to given any reasonable Dragonsworn the vapors. Luckily, she had never been prone to having fits of fainting, but she could still develop a stress headache. Stevan watched as Shea left his tent, the implications running through his reeling mind, dancing in the confusion of his soul. Andraia sat next to him, and her face revealed the same emotion as his, a strange, contorted mixture of horror and puzzlement. "Did you hear that the same as I did?" He turned to Andraia and spoke with disbelief in his voice. Andraia nodded silently, then muttered. "I did." What a problem... the disconnected thought drifted through her mind... *I wonder if Stevan has any herbs that can cure a headache...* "Do you think they know about us? They might even try to infiltrate our camp - pretend to be their counterpart. How could we trust each other if that happened?" Still shaking, he replied to his bondmate. "I...I...hope that will not happen. First I would like to discuss with Xyranthes about the possibility of all this. I know I can trust him, he knows everything and is one of the most honest men I know." Just then Stevan heard a rustle, and he turned to see Xyranthes entering his tent. He could hardly disguise his pleasure at seeing the elderly Asha'man just at the moment when he needed his advice. "Speak of the Dark One! Xyranthes, I don't know whether you've heard but..." Stevan stopped as Xyranthes lunged forward. Before Andraia could react he had thrown his knife at her bondmate, which lodged in the side of his chest, and ran. Andraia stared in shock, pain and disbelief as she watched blood run from his wound. "Get a Healer, quick!" he cried, gazing at his wound. Andraia didn't hesitate, but leapt for the door. Spotting a young Soldier, she barked an order for him to find Ariana, then returned to the interior of the tent. She knelt by her bondmate and studied the wound, carefully not looking at his pain-filled face. She gently grasped the knife by the hilt and slowly eased it from his flesh, then held a clean napkin, snatched from the table, over the wound to staunch the flow of blood. Ariana arrived in moments and Andraia backed away, her long white fingers stained red. She watched as the Healer worked her art on Stevan. When it was over Ariana gave him instructions, then inquired how it had happened. "Everyone will learn eventually," he replied grimly, and Andraia nodded her head imperceptibly. As their leader, he had to tell them what had occured, both to warn and reassure them. Ariana left, and after scrubbing her hands in a basin of water Andraia sat next to Stevan, watching him carefully. "What now, Stevan?" *My poor head...* @~~~$~~~~ Endrya smiled at the Soldier in front of her through her long lashes, dyed black with a special powder. Her large, pouty red lips curved teasingly as her hand lingered on his arm, originally to detain him, but now useful for other purposes. "Well?" she purred throatily, letting her fingers slide up and down his arm in a slow caressing motion. "What are they up to?" The Soldier swallowed, sweat beading on his brow. "N-nothing, nothing at all." It would mean his life if anyone discovered him being treacherous, but her soft caress was difficult to fight off. She was, after all, very knowledgable about means to achieving her ends. "Nothing?" she murmured, sliding her hand over his shoulder to adjust the collar of his shirt, "They're always up to something. You can tell me, I never tell... secrets." She smiled as her finger traced the line of buttons down his shirt. The soldier swallowed again, and began to speak. Once Endrya had disposed of her informant she lifted her skirts enough to show her slim ankles and walked daintly back to camp. There were no pies she didn't have a finger in, no treachery she didn't know about beforehand. Such were the benefits of being thought ignorant and wanton, she thought with a bow to well-made lips. They'd realize how ignorant she wasn't someday... although wanton had always been her favorite description. She never had to wonder what to do at night, after all. Ducking into her tent she lit the light, eager to discover who had sought her out this time.
Emily who plays Andraia/Endrya
And isn't dead!

 Sending Shea and Raileine off to warn Stevan and Tareena, respectively, La'rece released the weave she had used to transport the young Soldier's body back to the Black Tower camp. Looking down at the neat pile of stones she had used to cover Shahn's body, the Dragonsworn was reminded again of the price the Tower often paid in its efforts on behalf of the Lord Dragon. A few choice words floated across the Arafellan's mind as she thought about the mighty Rand al'Thor. Of course, the Dragon did not turn the wheel and set the weave; it wasn't his doing, but he sat at the head of the table and therefore earned her present ire. Surging pain drove such thoughts from La'rece's mind and caused her to wince. *I need to find Ariana* the Dragonsworn thought as she felt her strength continue to dwindle under the weight of the pain and loss of blood caused by the arrow in her shoulder. Not wanting to draw unwanted attention to her shoulder, La'rece channeled and a delicate weave sprang into place To anyone seeing her, she would appear to be La'rece, but an unwounded La'rece with no sign of injury or arrow. As the Dragonsworn made her way across the camp, she inquired as to Ariana's whereabouts. Directed to head toward Stevan's tent, La'rece detected an increased air of alertness and wariness. It wasn't in her mind, some of these people were behaving downright suspicious. *Perhaps they already know about the Others* The thought was cold comfort to the Dragonsworn. If the rest of the Black Tower force knew then chances are that the Others had already made their way into the camp, which would mean … *Light! Who'd be able to trust that the person they thought was … oh, blood and ashes!* As she made her way between two tents, La'rece stumbled and barely caught herself. As she got back upright, she spotted Ariana wiping her hands on some clean toweling. Using the precious little energy she had, the Dragonsworn called out the young woman's name. "Arian-a!" Hearing her name called, Ariana turned, barely stiffling a yelp at being caught off guard with all that had occurred, and saw La'rece Barata'gan standing between two tents. Standing might have been an exaggeration as the woman was swaying and apparently barely able to stand. *Has she been drinking?* Ariana wondered. "La'rece?" Ariana asked hesitantly carefully making her way over to the woman. "What's wrong?" "Others … Shahn … warn …" was all La'rece was able to say before she fainted and collapsed to the ground. The weave concealing the arrow faded revealing the shaft standing out from the Dragonsworn's shoulder, the blood soaking her shirt.
Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 "Why," she asked, "did you heal me? You should have let me die." Alcinia didn't sound very pleased. Aramis began to wonder if maybe she had stabbed herself, except that she had no visible knife. "That's what he said," said Aramis, pointing to the corpse of his otherwordly self. "But nevermind that now, we have to get back to camp. Stevan needs to know about this." As they walked, Alcinia said very little. They had to stop often so that she could catch her breath or rest. Aramis wasn't suprised. Healing could be bad even under the best of conditions. But there was something else... "You shouldn't have gone out alone," he told her. "What did it matter? No one cared anyway." She turned and started back the way they had just come from. "Hey, what are you doing? You almost died just now, you need some rest." For some reason he was beginning to feel a little protective of the woman before him. "Maybe you didn't realize, Asha'man, but that was the whole idea." No, Alcinia wasn't very pleased with him, even though Aramis had just saved her life. "Now, if you please, I am in the middle of something that I must do alone." She started off. Aramis weighed his options for all of three seconds. If she needed something to live for, maybe he could... He grabbed her arm as he seized the Source and kissed her as he channeled. The effect startled Aramis as much as did Alcinia, it seemed. She leaned against the nearest wall, breathing hard and staring at Aramis with wide-eyed shock. "What," she demanded," did you just do?"

 Shea had been out of Stevan's tent for perhaps thirty seconds before somebody ran out, ran back a few moments later with whom she recognized as Ariana, the resident healer, and presently a crowd began forming. She took a step towards the buzzing group of concerned people, then paused, and surveyed them. None was a member of her little coterie. That meant...La'rece... Shea flinched visibly as the dreadful sound of arrows whizzing through the air tore her consciousness, and she threw herself to the ground. Raileine did the same, but Shahn did not so much leap as collapse. The blonde Initiate rolled over on the sand and saw the arrow rising from his back. Well, that answered that question. La'rece was screaming for them to run, and Shea scrambled to her feet in all readiness to comply. She ran without glancing at either of her living companions, and when La'rece came into camp floating Shahn's body, Shea opened her mouth to ask the Dragonsworn if she was alright, not liking the wince on the Green's face. Opening her mouth was as far as she got, though, before La'rece brusquely ordered her to report to the M'Hael. She went. But if La'rece didn't go too, where had she gone? And was she injured? Had she been shot? Shea feared so, and set off at a running pace to find her. The woman was not in her tent. She was not with Stevan. She was not with Myiona, or Tareena, or any of the others who roamed about camp. But if she was injured, where would she go? Healer. Ariana. Drawing her sword simply because it felt right, Shea dashed back to Stevan's tent, where the crowd continued to include neither La'rece nor Ariana. Frustrated, she circled the tent and began weaving her way all around the ones that surrounded Stevan's. Finally! Kneeling over La'rece's inert body was Ariana, working an arrow out from the other Dragonsworn's shoulder. The Green appeared to be breathing, if somewhat raggedly, but was probably not conscious. When Shea approached them, it was Ariana she spoke to. "Will she be alright?" she asked anxiously, not certain why she cared so much. "You can heal this, can't you? We were returning from scouting, and oh, there was a group of Others...apparently the Black Tower from this world, only La'rece believes they're all Darkfriends, and then they shot arrows at us, and killed this Soldier...Shahn...and La'rece told us to run, and Light, that we did." She swallowed, staring at the crimson blossoming out from the arrow in La'rece's shoulder, and prayed for Ariana to be able to reply 'yes' to her desperately phrased question. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*
Could it be that Shea might someday become a Healer herself? Wink wink nudge nudge if you get my drift. ;)
~Rae Shea Vironda
Concerned lil Initiate

 Myiona was sitting inside of the tent, wondering what she could have done differently. She heard a scratching at the tent door and Mura'shar saying, "It's me, Myiona. I've spoken to Tareena. I told her you couldn't possibly have deliberately killed those two. Something must have provoked you. I thought you might want to talk." She was glad that at least one person in the blasted tower was on her side. "Come in," Myiona replied. She was sitting upon her sleeping mat and brushing her hair. The simple task helped calm her fraying nerves. Myiona looked up at her bondmate and smiled. "I am glad you believe me," she said. "I tried to explain to Tareena what had happened, but she was too angry to listen. Stevan will at least give me a fair chance, I hope."

 Muted voices seeped into her consciousness and she felt herself being lowered onto a pallet. La'rece recognized the last vestiges of healing as she examined herself with her mind. Her wounded shoulder seemed tender but intact. A good sign. Ariana knew her business and the Arafellan appreciated the woman's skill with healing. *I owe her big; perhaps when this is all over, I can find her a suitable gift* Thoughts were becoming a bit hard to hold onto. Her body, exhausted by its healing, wanted to shut down, however, La'rece refused to let it. Forcing her eyes open, the Dragonsworn looked around her tent to find a concerned Myiona looking down at her. Mura'shar stood behind her. "Well, you certainly know how to land in it, La'rece" the First Dragonsworn said, her voice tinged with concern and relief. "We were … surprised. Ambushed. Myiona, there are …" La'rece's voice trailed off. A voice inside telling her, for whatever reason, to be wary. Shifting her eyes to Mura'shar, La'rece felt almost a premonition. "It was a good thing Ariana found you when she did. You'd lost quite a bit of blood." Myiona smiled reassuringly at La'rece. La'rece replied, "Yes. I owe her thanks. I think I'll present her with a gift when we get back to the Tower." "There you go, I'm sure she'd appreciate it" Mura'shar said cheerfully. "I certainly haven't met a woman yet who did not like to receive gifts." "Or any man, for that matter" Myiona added with a look at her bondmate. On an impulse, La'rece broke in, "Tell me, Mura'shar how did you like the … book I gave you following our discussion not so long ago? You've never told me." The Asha'man paused a moment before replying. "I must confess I have not had an opportunity to read it yet, La'rece." "A shame. It's known to be very revealing about the self. After you've read it, perhaps we can discuss it over a drink sometime, say over tea?" the Dragonsworn said with a smile. "Tea?" the Asha'man replied with a smile. "I don't think so … " La'rece returned the smile warmly despite the storm that raged inside. She had never given him a book. The only gift ever exchanged between the two had been from Mura'shar to her. A teacup replacing the one he had accidently broken during their discussion about Myiona. This man knew nothing of that occurrence. This was not Mura'shar. He was one of the Others. She needed to speak with Myiona alone. She had to warn her. But how?
Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 Luthar stood in the shadows of a nearby tent onlooking to the tent where Myiona and Mura'shar had taken La'rece. He had been shadowing Mura'shar, on a feeling, an instinct of something seemingly was not quite right tat arose when Mura'shar returned to camp. So far from shadowing Mura'shar as much as he could, nothig seemed wrong; several times now he almost convinced himself it was nothing, but he knew from experience he could not deny this feeling. In the past, this feeling had saved is life on more than one occasion. Contining to watch the tent, he shivered and wondered what his next step would be. He knew he needed to tell Tareena, he believed she would find this information useful. Summoning his courage he crept nearer to the tent, and listened for anything as he glanced around making sure no one saw him. As he crept up close he heard La'rece's voice, "We were … surprised. Ambushed. Myiona, there are …" Luthar detected a troubled state in La'rece's voice, but he could not reason out why, and furthermore La'rece never finished what she was going to say as Luthar heard Myiona's voice next.. Luthar felt troubled, 'what was she going to say and why didn't she say it?' Luthar backed away from the tent, he needed to speak with Tareena about this. As he slipped toward Tareena's tent, his mind wandered, pondering. Then as he reached the tent, he thought, 'could this be connected to the odd feeling about Mura'shar, he was in the tent.' O=={===============>
Ed
OOC: well i hope this isn't taking too many liberties, I thought that this being pretty much what his life consisted of before the Tower he could figure out the things

 Finally! Kneeling over La'rece's inert body was Ariana, working an arrow out from the other Dragonsworn's shoulder. The Green appeared to be breathing, if somewhat raggedly, but was probably not conscious. When Shea approached them, it was Ariana she spoke to. "Will she be alright?" she asked anxiously, not certain why she cared so much. "You can heal this, can't you? We were returning from scouting, and oh, there was a group of Others...apparently the Black Tower from this world, only La'rece believes they're all Darkfriends, and then they shot arrows at us, and killed this Soldier...Shahn...and La'rece told us to run, and Light, that we did." She swallowed, staring at the crimson blossoming out from the arrow in La'rece's shoulder, and prayed for Ariana to be able to reply 'yes' to her desperately phrased question. Ariana frowned and concentrated on her job until it was finished, trying to focus only on the injury and not the worried woman. Shea's explanation came just as she finished, and Ariana blinked in shock. All Darkfriends? Every single one? She could barely believe a healer, any healer from any world, could turn to evil- but it had happened. She felt sick. Her other self was a... a monster, a Black Ajah liar and most likely murderess... She gave her directions for the wound's care in a sort of automatic daze, then turned to Shea. "If she is gentle with the injury, there should be very little scarring," she said, "and there was little blood lost once I began working." The Healer was rinsing her hands as she spoke. "I agree with your summation of these enemies- they care not how much pain they inflict." She hoped Shea wasn't squeamish. "See this?" Ariana held out the wickedly barbed arrowhead. Shea blinked, and Ariana explained the reason for the nasty barbs. "They catch and tear the flesh if a healer tries to pull the arrow out, and can snag on bone or tendons, even sever them. That's why I had to push it completely through." Shea did shudder, but the look in her eyes said that the arrow's shooter had better watch out. Ariana smiled, but only in her mind. It seemed she was shaping up well under the fire-trial of the mission. Instead, she reviewed her words, and recalled something. "You said... Shahn is dead?" Shea nodded. Ariana felt like cursing- or like crying. Instead, she simply shook her head regretfully. Her healer's heart took every death personally, as an accusation of failure. "One less of our number," she said, finally. "I only hope they don't whittle away at us until we are all dead or injured." She looked curiously at Shea. "Are you coming to find Stevan?" she asked, since Shea seemed to be following her. "I have to go report this latest injury, and give this thing-" she glanced at the arrowhead- "to whoever will dispose of it, and take warning from it." She looked at the other woman. "You should probably go and report, since I don't think La'rece will be able to for a while. Yes, she'll be all right," she added in response to the worried look sent her way. Ariana decided to find out more about the new Dragonsworn. "Did you ever go to the White Tower?"

 "I already did tell Stevan about the Others, if that's what you mean," Shea said, trying to keep Ariana's questions in order. "In fact, I was barely out of there when whatever happened that caused that did." Ariana had been called for whatever that was, making further explanation unnecessary. The crowd outside the M'Hael's tent was probably subsided by now, but the memory remained fresh in the Initiate's mind. What had happened? Had Stevan or Andraia been hurt? Attacked, in their own camp? The thought made Shea both frightened and furious, and she suddenly realized that her sword was lying, steel naked and gleaming in the harsh, lowering sun, on the sandy ground beside her. She resheathed it absently. Ariana's other question was not so easily answered; the fury Shea bit back at the thought of traitors within their midst returned as she contemplated the White Tower. "No," she said in a very definite tone. "I was born in Tar Valon and lived there until I was eight, but after my mother died my father and I moved to Andor, and I lived there until I was seventeen ((how does time work in the BT? I don't know how old Shea would be now.)), when I found out quite by accident that I could channel. And then I came here." The healer nodded, accepting Shea's avoidance of Tar Valon and the White Tower conversationally, and the blond girl continued. "It's been demanding, in every sense, but I think that as I've gone through ordeals with other members here, my allegiance to the Tower has grown immeasurably stronger. The only thing I've found lacking here is actual sit-down instruction -- by necessity," Shea explained with a faint grin that couldn't quite complete itself, "most of the things I've learned have come from hands-on, do-it-or-die experience. I'm sure it's valuable knowledge made more precious that way, but it also means that I'm still quite ignorant of more complex weaves like Healing." She left it artfully at that, and looked at La'rece, who was breathing more steadily now but remained unconscious. "If you need to talk to Stevan now, I will go find somebody to take La'rece for recouperation," offered Shea, and Ariana agreed. The two women set off. Shea first darted around the tent and commissioned the first Soldier she met to guarding La'rece, and then continued until she found Myiona and explained what had happened. The Aes Sedai and her bondmate relieved Shea and her Soldier from La'rece-guarding, and feeling that she had handled the situation well, she returned to the tent she shared with Raileine and a couple other Novitiates. She splashed her still-pink face with water, removed her stifling black coat, and quite promptly, fell asleep.
~Rae: Shea, hoping she doesn't hit anybody on the head with all the Healer-ly hints she's been dropping Initiate Extraordinaire :)

 Aramis watched Alcinia run on ahead. He let her go; she wouldn't do anything rash, not now. For the moment he decided that his report to Stevan should come first. Unless... He stopped. If Stevan really wasn't Stevan, if the T'sorovan'm'hael had fallen prey to an otherworldy self... This could be serious. Already doubts were forming. Who could he trust, besides Alcinia? The paired Soldier sentries just inside the Wards set around camp looked nervous. They made no move to speak to Aramis as he entered, so he asked them for any news he might have missed. A Soldier had been brought back into camp dead, and now something was going on inside camp. They didn't know what and could not leave their posts to find out. As much as could be expected. Aramis had the impression that more bodies would be brought back dead. Some would probably have to be scraped into buckets for proper burial. Lovely thought. Stevan's tent was beset with commotion, but that was nothing new. He asked to be admitted to report but a Dragonsworn Aramis vaguely recognized as Stevan's bondmate, Andraia Sedai?, refused him. Was the news life threatening? Possibly. Could it wait? Well, not really. Stevan was resting, she told him, and should only be disturbed if imminent doom were at hand. She assured him that Stevan would hear that Aramis needed to speak with him. Now, he had other things to tend to. He first went to his own tent and gathered up some foodstuffs and a waterbag. Then he set off in a direction a feeling in his head told him was the right way. Alcinia had been in her tent for some time now. She was irritated almost to the point of tears. He stopped about five steps from the tent flap and stood quietly. "Go away," she told him without opening the flap. "You're hungry, you should eat before you fall over." The flap raised enough to show Alcinia seated on the floor. It looked like she was sitting on everything she owned. "I can't find the food I brought," she said simply. "No problem. May I come in?" She nodded afirmative, so he sat down on the floor beside her. She immediately dived into the bread and cheese he had brought, washing it down with the water. He waited until she had eaten enough to sate her hunger a little before asking "Do you care to talk?"

 Tareena left Stevan's tent, never having been able to speak with him about Myiona. Certainly the news of the Evil Black Tower and Stevan's wound superseded the killing of the Ashaman, but in her mind, not by much. It was left to her to decide what needed to happen and internally, she admitted to herself, she was struggling. Entering Myiona's tent, she cursed under breath, finding the Domani not in attendance. Muttering to herself, she left the tent, searching the camp for Myiona. Finding her and Mura'shar keeping and eye on La'rece surprised her, especially after hearing what had taken place. Mur'ashar seemed oddly distant, not participating much in the retelling of the story and surprisingly, not voicing much of an opinion about the Darkfriends. Figuring that it was worry over Myiona that must be behind it, Tareena felt her stomach turn. Knowing she was not going to make it better. Requesting to speak to the 1st Dragonsworn alone, the two walked a short ways away, eyeing each other warily, forced civility marking each of their faces. Tareena took a deep breath and issued the orders that had to happen, regardless of her personal feelings. "Myiona, at this time you will retire to your tent. You are to stay there until further notice is given. You are not to speak to anyone but myself, Stevan or Mura'shar until which time judgment will be passed on your actions. You are not to channel for any reason, under any circumstances, unless explicit permission is granted by myself or Stevan. Do you understand?" Fury burned brightly behind Myiona's eyes. She nodded briefly, appearing unwilling to try to speak, and stalked to Mura'shar, briefly explaining why she needed to leave. Tareena watched her friend march stiff backed to her tent and enter, pride showing in every line of her body. What's done is done and I cannot take it back. She will have to handle this the best she can, same as I have to. Making the return trip to her tent, she stooped inside and barely suppressed a startled yelp at realizing she wasn't alone. Luthar stood just inside her tent, in the shadow created by the noonday sun. Never moving, it was impossible to see him until she had practically stepped on him. This is a dangerous man, she thought to herself. I must learn never to underestimate him. Tareena had no knowledge of what Luthar's life had been like before making his way to the tower but she suspected that living the "underbelly" of life was being far to kind. Still, he had pledged his loyalty to her and so far, he had proven to be worth that pledge. "Luthar, in the future, please do not hide and scare the light out of me. I am no good to anyone, least of all us, if I die from fright. Now I assume you have something for me?" Her voice had an edge to it, one she normally did not use with him but it had been a trying day and she felt her stomach beginning a rebellious chant once more. Tareena stared at Luthar, barely remembering to shut her mouth upon hearing his suspicions about Mura'shar. She wanted to dismiss his accusations out of hand but knew that she could not. Time and sorrow had taught her a long time ago that what you wished to be true, rarely was. With thoughts of Mura'shar in her head, she suddenly realized that there was no one she could be really sure about, least of all, the man standing in front of her. Her face must have betrayed her thoughts because Luthar's face hardened into stone. "My lady, I know what you are thinking for I, too, have my doubts, but I am Luthar and I will not betray you." Wanting to believe him yet knowing she could not afford it she continued to stare at him, wondering how in the light she could be sure. Luthar took care of that by drawing a short knife from his boot. For one wild moment, her heart beat a tattooed rhythm in her chest and she knew death had come for her. Then he did the last thing she expected. He drew the knife across his palm and they both watched as the blood dripped from his hand. "By my hope of salvation, I declare in the presence of the light, that I am Luthar, loyal to the Black Tower and to Dragonsworn Tareena De'Havilan, Guardian of the Tower. I pledge my service and my faith." His eyes boring a hole into her skull, Luthar reached his hand out towards her, willing her to believe and accept. Drawing her own knife from her behind her belt, Tareena hissed as it cut through her flesh. Grasping his palm with her own she stated "I hereby accept your fealty and allegiance, Luthar, and know it to be true. I pledge to never question your loyalty to me and promise to offer what protection I have, if the need arises." The pact made, vows exchanged, they began to speak of other things, making plans on what needed to happen next. Tareena asked him to keep a discreet eye on Myiona, making sure that the Dragonsworn was safe. If Mura'shar was indeed a phony, Myiona was in trouble. She also instructed him to begin asking around, noting details of who may be acting funny or out of character. With a nod, he turned to leave. She laid her hand on his arm to detain him, looking once more into those cold eyes. She placed her hands upon him and using the little skill she possessed, healed his hand, where the knife had cut. For one fleeting moment, those eyes softened, and she smiled. Then he became cold once more, leaving her to herself, inside her tent. Tareena knelt by her pallet, whispering a silent prayer to the creator. Watch over us. Let not harm or strife come to Luthar while under my wing. Watch over the true members of the Tower, let no one come to harm. Give us the strength to perservier once more, on yet another mission for the light. Watch over my bondmate, wherever he may be. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ---------------- OOC: Ed, I hope I didn't step on your toes here but it was about the only thing I could think of at one in the morning after working sixteen hours and it made sense that there would be distrust. If I overstepped, you have my permission to smack my hand, or spank my bottom, or whatever seems appropriate and I shall take it all back :) If not, you are stuck with Tareena ::grins:: Vicky, the same goes with you. I know we talked about this but if you want any changes, feel free to write what you need. Hope this finds everyone doing well, take care. :)

 Something is wrong. Mera'shar's didn't like La'rece's reaction to him. She smiled and talked normally, but there was something in her eyes... She's afraid of me! Mera'shar is used to getting that reaction. Mura'shar, it seemed, did not inspire that it He must have slipped up, somehow. Perhaps that gift she mentioned was some sort of test. And he failed. Or maybe she's naturally suspicious. If she was close enough to see her attackers, she may know about his own Tower. Either way, his cover was blown. He would have to kill her, and soon, before she can tell others. But it must not look suspicious, or rather, not to raise suspicions towards him. He must be very careful here. As he contemplated his options, Mera'shar tuned out Myiona and La'rece's conversation. Though he heard enough to curse whatever fools let themselves get discovered. He did not even hear Tareena until she began speaking to Myiona. Myiona's face became a mask of fury. With a stiff back, she marched up to Mura'shar and whispered to him "It seems I am no longer trusted enough to be out among the rest of the Black Tower. I'm to remain in my tent until they decide what to do with me." Struggling to maintain her composure, Myiona left for her tent. Mera'shar noted that Tareena didn't seem particularly happy with the instructions she had given. He may need to work a little harder on that, too. When Tareena left as well, Mera'shar saw no need to remain. La'rece's gaze was making him uncomfortable. He gave her as friendly a smile as he could manage as he made his farewells. "I d better be going now. Myiona will want me to stay close in this time of distress for her. And you must be tired. When you've been hurt this badly, speaking to too many people can sap your strength and finish what the wound started" He held her gaze as he spoke the last part, making the warning clear. He patted her on her good shoulder and wished her a speedy recovery. Then he left for his own tent, and began weaving subtle alarms around it and inverting the weaves. He was not going to be taken by surprise, whatever happens. ------------------------------------------------------------- After a long hot bath, Mura'shar felt almost human again. It no longer mattered so much that outside these quarters were evil versions of his friends who would kill him on sight. While he was soaking, one of the Aes Sedai entered with a bundle. After his initial surprise, he saw it was a fresh set of clothes and a towel for him. He gestured for her to set the m down close by, within reach for him. She did so, unfolded the towel, and backed away quickly. Inside was a small ring of some sort of glittering stone, and a small golden knife. A scalpel, really. He ring he'd never seen before, but the knife he was familiar with. The Aes Sedai, the one that sat with him when that mysterious message appeared, flinched from his gaze. "I found out where he keeps his most valuable possessions she mumbled. "He doesn't keep them too heavily guarded, in case that draws attention to them" She would no meet his gaze. For a moment, Mura'shar seriously considered cutting the bond between himself and Myiona. But decided not to. He didn't want to tip his hand yet. He would wait until he had a clear chance to escape. Then without the bond, she'd never find him. He touched the ring and gasped. He'd never handled an angreal before, but that is what this must be! It didn't seem very powerful, but given the circumstances, he'd take what he could get! "What is your name?" he asked her, wanting to know whom he should thank "Naden my lord" she answered. He kept gazing at the floor. "Well, Naden, I promise you this, when the time comes for me to flee, I will bring you with me" He gestured towards the blade. "You will be totally free" At this, Naden seemed to relax, just a little, and she raised her eyes to his "Whatever my lord wishes" she whispered and fled. Mura'shar finished his bath and dried himself. When he tried on is clothes, he found they fit perfectly. He wondered if they belonged to his counterpart. He carefully his the bondcutter in his boot and the angreal in an inside pocket. Waiting for someone to show up who may release you and may torture you to death became a taxing job. With nothing else he could do for the moment, Mura'shar stretched out on his pallet and drifted off to sleep. For the first time in quite a while, his dreams weren't totally unpleasant. OOC, yes, Naden's name is an anagram of Denna, from Wizard's First Rule. I thought it would be ironic, okay? ::grins::
Jake
Marked Asha'man

 Alcinia almost stomped back to the tent. She went inside and sat down on her sleeping mat. She kept shaking her head and then staring wide eyed off to where he was. "Light blasted Asha'man," she muttered. "Maybe there is some way to make him remove the bond. Myiona could help me, but she would probably say it was good for me. No one else would care." She knew he was standing right outside the tent. "Go away," she said. "You're hungry," he said, "you should eat before you fall over." A few minutes later, Aramis was sitting inside the tent while she ate. "Do you care to talk?" He asked after she finished eating. Alcinia looked down at the crumbs on her shirt and wiped them away. "I suppose this is where I tell you all about myself, but there is not much to tell. I am an orphan who grew-up to become a thief. You, however, must have lived a more interesting life. How did you lose your hand?"

 The Elderly Cairheinian turned back to his counterpart. "My work is now in the service of the Dragon, I serve, that is all." "Not true," came the gentle reply, and Zeranthes slide off his throne, " I know you lead. You where given control over a 'Stormteam,' Hazza." The evil Cairheinian twisted the last word, trying unsuccessfully to get used to the strange name. Xyranthes looked at his opponent, and said nothing. "Do you not know what you could possess. Between the two of us we could end this senseless war between the Great Lord and the fools who would stand against him. I shall be Chosen, and you too could have the power, if you would but serve me. Once, you and I served Aginor. Our hands crafted many things of wonder. He is gone now, and I shall take his place, and stand at the Great Lords right hand." "You brought me here for this?" Sadness lay heavy on each word. "Yes, and you have come, and that was the purpose of my summoning. And here you will stay, Xyranthes, and rest from your journeys. For I am greater than you, I am Zeranthes, the wise, Zeranthes shadow maker, Zeranthes of many colors." "I prefer white or black." "White!" Zeranthes sneered. "It serves as a beginning. White cloth can be dyed, the white page can be written upon, and white light can be broken." "In which case it is no longer white." "The old days are passing. The younger days are beginning, can you not feel it on the wind. Change is coming, for good or evil, that is our choice. The old is passing away, a new power is rising. This then is the choice before you, before us all. We may join with that power. It would be wise. There is hope in that path. It's victory in this world is complete, do you think that all worlds would not quail and pass should the weave be torn asunder in this one? Yet, there is a rich reward for those who aid it. As the Power grows, it's proved friends also will grow. And the wise, such as we two, might with patience come at last to direct his path, control him. We can bid our time, we can keep our thoughts in our hearts, deploring the evil done along the way, but approving the high and ultimate purpose: Knowledge and Order, and the things that man has thus far striven in vain for, hindered rather than helped by weak and idle people, who know no better. There can be hope that way." "No man could ever topple the Creator, or Shaitan." Zeranthes cringed at the sharp spoken word. Yet here, in the heart of evil itself, Xyranthes feared nothing, least of all the name of the Dark One. "Yes, you heard me, I spoke his name, and do not fear him, for my path is in the hands of the Creator alone." No, there you are wrong. Was not the Bore made by man, the Creator was supposed to have sealed the Great Lord away for all time, yet I feel his hand now, it is great and terrible and dark, but it took the hand of man to free it. And the ancients left behind much more than just the open Bore. You saw them, the Ter'Angreal. If we could command those, then the Power would pass to us. That is in truth why I brought you here. For I have many eyes in my service, yet I lack but one thing, the key to unlocking the power within. We could easily find a woman to wield the other, but we, we could rule the universe as brothers." "Only one hand can wield the Ter'Angreal, and you know that as well as I, so do not trouble yourself to say 'we.' I will not surrender to you the knowledge to unlock their power, now that I have learned your mind." "I did not expect you to show wisdom, even on your own behalf, but I gave you the chance to of aiding me willingly, and so saving yourself much pain and suffering. Since you have rejected me, you will stay here till the end." "What end?" "Until you give me the key I seek. I may find other ways to persuade you." And so, Xyranthes was taken to the highest pinnacle of the Tower. Far below was the city of Rhuidean, and the steps on the narrow flight of stair was counted in the thousands. Zeranthes stretched out his hand. "One last chance, join me, and we can end this war. We shall rule as brothers." "No." "Then stand on these stones till your heart rots or changes." He wove a strong weave, cutting of the One Power from Xyranthes, and tying them in such as way to a small stone. "Enjoy, Xyranthes, till we meet again. Sneed, to me." From the shadows, Mortamer Sneed, the one from Xyranthes world, crept from the shadows. "I told you he would never submit willingly." "Silence, and follow me, dog." They descended the steps, and soon, the torchlight was gone. Xyranthes stood, and gazed up, wondering.
Peter
<><

 Raileine wondered off after La'rece, Shae and herself had reentered the camp of the Tower. During her wandersing she was brought to the opposite side of the camp and crashed strait into a young exotic looking woman. "Sorry," She said at the same time the other woman said "Watch where you're going wench!" Raileine looked up with wild eyes at her and saw her to be one of the newer raw recruits. "I'm afraid we've not met before," Raileine said with a friendly smile. "I am Raileine, a Novitiate here at the Tower. I don't think that this is the best grounds to meet upon, but their suitable. I fear though, that the Black Ajah is in the city." She wispered the last bit. Raileine's past was a mix of many things. Her mother had been Aes Sedai, her father a Gaidin. A whole line of grandmother's as Aes Sedai as well, it wasn't unusual in her family. The women would have their children before they left to train at the White Tower, and they'd leave the child with their mother. At the White Tower they'd train, and their child's father would as well. Rai never really understood the whole mess, and usually smiled and nodded when it was explained to her. She and her sister Hollen had left for the White Tower when they were younger, she'd developed quite quickly a block that slowed down all her training. Hollen sped right along, but was in constant trouble. As the Tower broke, their mother died only afew days later, and Hollen ran away, not to be seen again for a few years. Her younger sister Elysa had left for the Rebel Tower, to step into her mother's shoes, and their youngest sister went on her own quest to find a husband and make a child so the family line would continue. At that point, Rai became librarian at the Caemlyn library. After Elysa had become Aes Sedai, their father had married a woman named Macklynn, she as well was Aes Sedai of the Green Ajah, and later the family found out she was Black. She ravaged the Topire family and ended up turning Hollen to the Black Ajah before Elysa put her out of her misery. Rai shuddered and cut her memories short there. "I'm Ly'dara. Sharan." Ly'dara responded simply. "Nice to meet you. Have you gone out into the city yet?" "Yes, but we returned quickly." "Oh." "Would you care to join me again, Raileine?" Ly'dara's eyes sparkled with delite. She'd enjoyed those few hours in the city, and wanted to explore more. It was something to keep her mind from Shara, and suicide. Her mind frequently expanded there, and maybe with a friend she could open up sometime later. "Do you think it would be okay?" "I don't see why not. And if not, a little punishment never harmed anyone." Raileine shrugged and then nodded an approval, with the slightest nodd her wrist was grabbed and she was all but dragged towards the city by Ly'dara. -*-*-*Meanwhile...*-*-*- Li'dera crossed her arms, tapped her foot and stared at the other woman. "And what do we do if they return? You think that it's going to be easy to escape them, I suppose?" Her eyes hardened and she embraiced the source to her full extent. "Well...?" Raeleen rolled her eyes upward. "Li, stop that. If I can kill my sister I could easily kill this .. whatever she is." Li stomed her foot in a no-nonsense type of way, trying to get the older woman's attention. "Would you stop that? You look and sound like a 2 year old that hasn't gotten their favorite toy back!" Raeleen snapped, a piece of brown hair fell into her face and she pushed it away with a puff of air. "I'm agitated!" "Don't whine to me, little one." "What did you call me?" "You heard me!" "Just you wait..." Li'dera snarled. "I'm returning to the group. Li, you do whatever you well please. Just don't get me wrapped up in this mess!" Li glared daggers at Raeleen as she turned her back and clawed her fists up into balls as if she was going to hit the turned woman. Then she let it go, and went to stalk the two woman who'd just entered the city. There was something about them, something strange. There had been things floating around the camp, but Li'dera was about to find out for herself. -*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*- -
Jamie
"Raileine Topire / Raeleen Topyre" –
Lynne "Ly'dara Kavall / Li'dera Kevall"

 It was night, and the endless stream of people surrounding Stevan's tent had ended. Aramis had got to see him at last, but had only confirmed what Stevan already knew. He was lying on his makeshift bed, with Andraia sitting on a chair by his side. "Stevan, you need to stay and rest. And besides, what you want to do would be far to dangerous." He noted the cool tone in her voice, the kind of coolness that you could detect when she was employing her logic. Logic. That was something Stevan never paid attention to. To his mind, there was only one course of action he could take, and the sooner the better. "Listen, I know I need to rest more, but I am fine as I am now. Anyway, I can rest when we are there, but we do need to move as quickly as possible. With unknown numbers of evil counterparts roaming around our camp at night, you never know what could happen to me or to you." "But before we get there you'll have to fight," Andraia shot back quickly, never missing a flaw in Stevan's argument. He grinned at her. "Why don't I let you do all the fighting?" Seeing the displeasure in her eyes at his foolery, he added, "Besides, only a little fighting is needed if you are clever. Sneak up behind them and run a sword through them. You don't even need to cease the One Power." Andraia's eyes lowered, realising that nothing could stop his determination. "I will let you go..." She never got a chance to finish, as Stevan interrupted her. "And you will come with me? I think you need to protect this weak Asha'man." She gave a small smile. "I will come. But do not think I endorse your behaviour. I am only going with you because your plan involves me." In a few minutes they were sneaking through the camp, making sure they were not seen or heard. If so, then their whole plan could fall to pieces, and they then would almost certainly be killed. Then suddenly, around the corner of a tent, a dark figure ran and almost bumped into them. They gasped, and then Stevan grabbed the figure and pulled him up to his face. "Collin?" Stevan muttered as he saw the face of the young Soldier. "I'm sorry Tsorovan'm'hael, I should look where I am going next time. I'll leave you now." "Wait." Stevan held on to him as he began to walk away. "When you first arrived, what were the name's of the Asha'man who brought you to me?" "Rengar and Mura'shar," he answered immediately, looking at Stevan in puzzlement, especially since Stevan was smiling. He is one of us, obviously. "Well, I was wondering if you'd like to accompany us on our mission. We'll need an extra man..." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ -------------------------------------------- If you are puzzled by what's happening in the RP, don't worry. I didn't mean anyone to understand what I was doing. :)
Steve
<><

 Alcinia looked down at the crumbs on her shirt and wiped them away. "I suppose this is where I tell you all about myself, but there is not much to tell. I am an orphan who grew-up to become a thief. You, however, must have lived a more interesting life. How did you lose your hand?" Aramis smiled grimly. In short, simple sentences he described the battle in the underground tunnels of the ancient city of Shorelle. A shadowspawn beast had removed his right hand just above the wrist. Asha'man Alan saved his life that day, hauling Aramis bodily over to an Aes Sedai for healing. He could still remember the shock and painful numbing sensation when he had realized his hand was gone, and the horrid nightmares that came during the following nights... "And when we got back into Andor," he finished,"I went to see the Master Armorer at the Royal Palace. He and my father were friends. He fitted me with my hook and gave me a lighter sword." For a moment they sat in silence. He could still feel a bit of irritation through the bond. It didn't surprise him, really. She was an orphan and a thief and generally a loner so it would be natural for here to find the sudden attachment awkward. Aramis hadn't really considered that when he bonded her, of course. But then another thought occurred to him. All of the other bonded Asha'man and Aes Sedai shared a double bond. Maybe if she bonded him she would accept the idea of sharing the bond more readily. Aramis didn't want to have to release Alcinia from the bond; he really was fond of the little thief, though they had known each other for only a short time. And, as long as they were bonded they could at least trust one another enough to survive this mission. But for the moment he had to report to Stevan. He stood to go, pausing long enough to suggest the double bond. "I know you don't like the idea, but it has it's advantages," he told her. "Please think about it." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I guess this took place just before Steve's RP. ;-)
James
aka Aramis

 Never letting her eyes leave him, La'rece lay patiently until Mura'shar, or rather the counterpart of the man, left the tent. It had been over a hundred years since La'rece Barata'gan had been a Novice in Tar Valon, and even before her arrival at the Shining Walls she was well versed in the Great Game and the arts of deception and betrayal. The man who had just left had no intention of letting her live. He'd likely try to remove her as a threat as soon as possible His last words all but promising to see her die Channeling the lantern out, the Dragonsworn carefully rose. She was more tired than anything, her wounds healed. Piling garments and blankets to look as though she were still sleeping, La'rece gathered up her clothes and taking her dagger, sliced the back wall of the tent. If the man was watching, she had no intention of stepping into his trap. As she stood in back of the tent holding her bundle of clothes, La'rece could hear the sounds of people around the camp. But who could be trusted? She had to get to Myiona, and quickly. There was something afoot there, as well. The Dragonsworn had detected serious tension in the First's stance and tone when she had come in the last time before departing leaving La'rece alone with the man posing as Mura'shar. Dressing as quickly as circumstances allowed, La'rece made her way back toward her own tent. Based upon what she gathered from listening to Myiona, the woman was being confined to quarters; quarters she shared with La'rece. Of course, that might also mean that the would-be Mura'shar might show up unexpectedly, as well. The Dragonsworn wondered briefly if Myiona knew about the man and then decided that she must not. Looking about, La'rece detected no indication of guards or wards about the tent and there was no sign of the man posing as Mura'shar. Moving as quietly as she could, the Arafellan entered the tent and quickly erected a ward to protect from eavesdropping. The look on Myiona's face would have caused La'rece to laugh out loud any other time, but the situation was critical and the Dragonsworn had no doubts about the gravity of their predicament. Both of their lives were in extreme danger. "La'rece! What in the world are you doing out of bed?!" Myiona could not keep the tone of reprimand out of her voice. The woman had taken a viscious wound from a barbed arrow earlier and was now sneaking about the camp. "Listen, Myiona. I don't know how much you know or suspect, but believe me when I tell you, we, the whole Black Tower force, are in danger!" La'rece's eyes tried to bore into her friend, trying to make her believe her by shear force of will. "There are … Others. Virtually identical to us, each of us, from … this place or time or another … I don't know. But they tried to kill me. They killed Shahn, the Soldier with me." "I know. There've been other … incidents today." Myiona's face seemed carved from granite. "You shouldn't be here …" "Black Ajah." La'rece didn't allow Myiona to finish. "The Black Flaming Ajah is with them, Myiona. Which can only mean that they're all darkfriends and serve the Dark One." Myiona's expression tightened around her eyes. "I need to tell Mura'shar …" "Well, you're gonna have a problem there as the man who was with you in the tent with me isn't Mura'shar" La'rece said. "What … what are you saying La'rece? That Mura'shar isn't … Murah'shar? That's ridiculous! I've been speaking with him and …" Myiona responded. "He didn't recall a gift he'd given me. I tricked him and the man took the bait trying to cover his … look, I know what I know. It's not him. And what's worse is, I think he's going to try and kill me. Sooner rather than later." La'rece looked Myiona in the eye and added, "And once he knows I've 'escaped', he'll figure out where I would've gone and your own life won't be worth a copper." Myiona felt like someone had laid an immense stone upon her stomach. "They're among us … we've got to …" "Go. We've got to go. Now!" the Arafellan had already switched to full battle mode. If she had to fight her way out she would. Light, what she'd give for an oath rod! "Let's get out of the camp while there's time to do so and then work on identifying others who we can be sure are … themselves. I feel confident we can trust Shea and … Raileine." La'rece hesitated a moment over the last recalling an odd feeling she'd once gotten listening to the young Novice while they were out on their scouting mission. "La'rece …" Myiona began. "It's true, Myiona Light help us, it's true. What do you say?" La'rece waited for the First's answer. OOC: I hope this is okay, Vic! It seemed the logical progression after my escape from the madman, Mera'shar (teehee).
Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 Myiona was shocked when La'rece snuck into her tent. She was even more surprised by the information she brought. After carefully considering the situation, Myiona had to agree with her friend. They had to escape. "Okay," she said, "I am sure you are right. There has been something about Mura'shar lately that I haven't been able to put my finger on, but if he is not my Mura'shar it makes sense. How many of them do you think are in our camp?" The Domani thought about the whole incident with Tareena and wondered if perhaps she was also another. That would account for her wanting Myiona untrusted. Maybe she knew what had really happened, but was not telling anyone. "Trolloc guts," Myiona murmured. "I have to break a direct order and that will get me in more trouble with . . . Oh never mind. I am going with you. We need to make sure we have plenty of food and water. We will be hiding from both groups, you know. They are going to assume I, and possibly you, are from the other tower when we are gone." Quickly, they gathered all they could carry and hurried out of the back of the camp. They were not a large group and were careful to avoid detection. Myiona was lost in thought as they walked. It was strange that she had been so close to the imposter and not noticed, even the bond seemed right. How did he fake the bond? Had he managed to take it somehow? Where was the real Mura'shar? Her heart pounded worrying about him, but if anything happened to him she pitied the person that did it!

 "I know you don't like the idea, but it has it's advantages," Aramis said. "Please think about it." Then he left, leaving Alcinia's stomach more than a little upset. "A double bond?" she muttered, "As if the one way thing isn't bad enough. Light!" She started thinking about those in the tower who were bonded and the best bonds did seem to be double. A sound outside the tent caught her attention. She saw Myiona and La'rece sneaking out of camp. she thought. The Mayene was tempted to follow the women, but instead just watched where they were heading so she could find them later. First, she had to make sure Aramis knew that he could not trust anyone. Alcinia stepped out of the tent and headed for Stevan's tent.

 Tareena stood tapping her foot outside of Stevan's tent, barely a hairs breath from venting her frustration on the guard outside of it. Gone! Where in the light could he have gone! He had just suffered a knife wound in the shoulder hours early and he had gone! Who in this light blessed camp would agree to let that man off of his pallet and out into the night. When she got her hands on them, they were going to wish that they had used the brains the creator had given them. Tareena rarely lost her temper, having learned as a damane that it onlyh brought pain and trouble. Now, however, it churned inside of her, threatening to unleash on the next available target. Tareena turned to go when she noticed out of the corner of her eye Alcina, beginning to try to slip back out of the circle of ligth created by the lanterns surrounding the tent. Now what is that girl going skulking about in the night and around Stevan's tent to boot. No good is the reason and I intend to figure out why. Snapping an order to freeze, she saw hesitancy in the Dragonsworn's eyes which served to fuel her anger even further. Lowering her voice almost to a growl, she forced the Dragonsworn to tell her in no uncertain terms what had brought her to this particular tent at this particular tent. If Tareena thought she was angry before, it was nothing to where she found herself now. So Myiona thinks she can just disregard an order of mine, does she. Wait until I get my hands on that woman, she will think she is a novice wearing white once more! And La'rece, helping her! They will both be scrubbing the underbelly of this camp for years! Knowing, even in her rage, that it was not safe for her to be going about the city alone, Tareena instructed Alcina to follow her and be quick about it. Again, hesitation on the part of the Dragonsworn. "Tareena, I...must...I mean...I" "Lord girl, spit it out, I don't have all day to be lolleygagging with you. What is it?" Tareena watched in astonishment as the girl blushed, Blushed! and stammered that she had to tell her bondmate where she was going. "Bondmate? Since when have you taken a bondmate Alcina?" Tareena listened as the story came tumbling out and watched as she stood unconsciously defiant. not even realizing that already she was defending her bondmate. For one moment, a slight slab of jealousy ran through Tareena but she immediately stuffed it way down inside of her. Just because he paid a little bit of attention to you, does not mean anything. Besides, you have Darren and nothing is going to change that. He is your bondmate, not anyone else. Once Alcina informed Aramis of their destination, he insisted on joing the two of tehm, regardless of their protests. Tareena finally instructed Alcina to stop arguing with the man. Once a man had decided that he was going to do something, there was no going back. With a sigh, she turned and motioned for them to follow, out into the city. Wandering around at night in a strange city was hazardous at best but when Tareena learned of the information Aramis had and coupled it with her own knowledge of what Luthar had told her, her blood ran cold. Somewhere out there, there mirror equals were plotting and planning against them and they had no idea how to tell one from the other. Sliding in and out of the shadows, they searched, wandering if they were even in the right part of the city. Occasionally they heard footsteps and avoided them, waiting in doorways while they passed. None were the Dragonsworn they were looking for. Hearing another set, they carfefully slid into another doorway, having to back further into the room than planned due to the lightness of the street. Tareena held her breath and then fought down a scream as a hand stole around her and covered her mouth. Not daring to embrace Saidar for fear of bringing unwatned attention, her eyes were large in her head as a voice whispered into her ear. "It's me, Luthar, don't be afraid, I just didn't want you to scream." With a quiet gasp, Tareena sucked in air, trying to quiet her frantically beating heart. The Soldier immediately let go and dropped his hands, walking over to quietly report to Aramis. Tareen knew that it was the correct thing to do but she was itching to talk to him herself. Luthar must have known what they needed for within minutes, Aramis motioned them all forward and together they began to search the night once more.
Lisa~aka Tareen De'Havilan Guardian,
Marked Dragonsworn
Bondmate to Darren Sadke

 La'rece leaned against the wall and caught her breath. She and Myiona had been moving at a steady pace throughout the late night hours. By her estimation, unless the Others had established their base at the far edge or outskirts of the domed city, they must be on the other side of the enemy camp. "Are you alright?" Myiona asked. As a former Aes Sedai of the Green Ajah, the First was well familiar with the effects of healing and the exhaustion that accompanied an individual's recovery. Healing required a great deal of energy from the person being healed and La'rece's wound had been severe enough to cause the Dragonsworn lingering weakness. "I'm … fine. Light, I feel as though I could sleep for a fortnight." The Arafellan's eyes, however, were as sharp as ever as she looked at her friend. "It's going to be alright, Myiona. We'll make it alright." Myiona looked at La'rece in the dim light and attempted a smile. Circumstances had somehow spun out of control with misunderstanding piling on deception piling on betrayal piling on … The former Green, now First amongst the Tower's Dragonsworn despite the accusations against her, firmed her resolve. "If you're able to continue, La'rece, we should keep moving until we find a suitable place to …" Myiona could not bring herself to use the word 'hide', even if they were "… dig in?" La'rece offered. Myiona raised an eyebrow at her fellow Dragonsworn and suddenly found herself barely suppressing laughter. For a moment, La'rece looked at the woman as though she had gone mad then found herself almost laughing herself. Footsteps in the distance and the sound of falling gravel focused the two women's attention and galvanized their resolve to continue on until they found a safe place to set up a base of their own. *I truly hope we can get word to Tareena or Stevan before it's too late …* La'rece had dire concerns as to her and Myiona's chances without some sort of support from the Black Tower forces. As they continued walking, the Arafellan wondered if Xyranthes was alright … if they managed to survive, the man was their only ticket back to their own reality …
Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 Windrider huffed loudly and shuffled his hooved feet. It was amazing how long the stallion had remained at Talia's side. He didn't like Rhuidean.. and neither did Talia. The whole area gave her the eerie feeling that something's not right. Dismounting her faithful steed, Talia took his reigns and gave the whole landscape around Rhuidean a careful once over. It had been a long trip, she mused. She could feel Alan close by once again. She had forgotten how much she missed that feeling.. and how much it had terrified her when she first experienced it. (~Well, time to get to work and stop making goo goo eyes at the first sign of Alan~) Talia smirked lightly at the thought. Talia headed toward the first sign of civilization she'd seen in quite some time. After a while, Talia's eyes fell upon something very disturbing. A woman. Well, of course, for this to be surprising in the least, this certain woman was obviously no ordinary woman. She was.. Talia. Confused, yet? Talia was very confused, herself. Just to be safe, Talia decided not to use Saidar for anything as she used her old stealthy adventuring skills to follow this impersonator. As she did so, she found herself thinking that the others must be having fun. She also wondered if this other woman had made any moves on Alan. Now, THAT in and of itself made her angry. (~Ooh, she had better keep her hands off.~) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Taria was a warrior of the finest calibre, a stealthy spy -- just a few of the reasons Zeranthes liked to ally himself with her. She also had a very cruel sense of humor gained drastically ever since she avowed herself to the Great Lord of the Dark. At this time, Taria strode purposefully toward Zeranthes' last known position. He had mentioned offering the Great Lord's benefits to his Light-fool counterpart. If his counterpart refused (and she thought he would), she wanted to have some fun. Taria grinned broadly when she saw Zeranthes with a little man full of fear, heading out of where she could only surmise the poor "lad" was held. Again, she was right. He refused. She knew this was Zeranthes by the way he held himself. Completely confident.. and sometimes overly so. "Light shine on you, friend." Taria smirked, her wicked sense of humor showing by her sarcastic use of the word "Light." The answer was a backhand across her cheek. "Fool.." Zeranthes hissed through gritted teeth. "Your counterpart is not on this mission. You could give us all away. I told you to stay put." Taria only smiled in return. She was used to Zeranthes' abusive behavior. "You wouldn't go out and have all the fun and expect me to stay put, now would you? Where's our unfortunate friend?" Taria grinned quite wickedly. "Can I play?" Dangerous light shone in her eyes.. and anyone would know that Taria had no intention of playing any childish game. Zeranthes could never resist. Surely, by the time Taria was through with him, Xyranthes would beg to be a part of the Great Lord's plans, no? "Very well.. don't be foolhardy like the last time." His eyes shone almost red with the left over anger from remembering that said 'last time.' Taria grinned even wider.. and a more mischevious and wicked grin than before. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Talia couldn't believe all this was happening. From her perch a ways back from Taria and Zeranthes she could only hear a few snippets of the conversation, but it was alarming to say the least. As Xyranthes.. or.. whoever it was turned, dragging Sneed with him, other-Talia entered a building. By the looks of things, these were both imposters. Xyranthes never dragged people about.. let alone backhanded her. Talia made sure the imposter was out of sight before she snuck after.. herself.. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
OOC: I'm back! I think.. *giggles* It feels so good to be back, too. *hugs all around!*
T aka Miya <><

 Aramis stood with the Guardian, Alcinia and the Soldier Luthar. They stood in the pale, washed-out shadows of a pale, washed-out world. "Soldier Luthar said that he's seen the T'sorovan'm'hael and Soldier Collin, La'rece and Myiona, and Mura'shar out roaming the streets tonight. In fact, he's seen just about everybody out tonight. Even the ones I know for a fact are still in their tents." "I saw something else, Asha'man," said Luthar, "the body of a man lying in the streets. I thought he was you, at first. He had your face. But this man had no hands, and hadn't for some time." Aramis nodded. "I know. I killed him. But that's the important thing. Details. This other Black Tower wears our faces, but the details are wrong." "Then we must be specific," said Tareena, "If someone hails us as friend, we ask questions, specific questions." She looked at Aramis and Luthar. "You two should stand ready to attack if anything goes badly. Try not to kill, if possible, but do not hesitate if you must kill. Our first goal should be to find Stevan. You saw him last, Luthar. Take us there." Luthar went out into the night, with the Guardian behind him. Aramis motioned for Alcinia to go next; Aramis brought up the rear. He fought the urge to be over protective of his bondmate, and found himself looking forward to the next time they could sit down and talk. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
James aka Aramis Bondmate to Alcinia

 Myiona stumbled over something in the darkness and leaned down to see what it was. A body lay amid the rocks and sand that littered the waste. She knelt down and realized the person was still alive, but just barely. "La'rece," she said softly, "we can't just leave her here. She will die when the sun hits her in the morning. And we don't know for sure that she is not our Alcinia. We have to help her." The Arafellan nodded and Myiona quickly tried to heal the worse of the girl's injuries. She could not take the time to heal her properly, and even doubted it was possible without first giving her the water she had gone without for too long. Together, the two women got her up on her feet. "Thanks," the girls said through swollen lips, "I would have never expected sympathy from either of you. But, now that the big brute is gone I can survive." Myiona did not reply, but realized that they had found Alcinia's counterpart. They walked on until they found an opening in the wall, a place where construction had stopped for no apparant reason. The women snuck through the hole and into a building nearby. "You both rest here," Myiona said, "I want to check this out before I go to sleep." She hurried through the dark corridors until she found a closed door. She opened it and found stairs leading down. It was a basement and much cooler than the rest of the building, a perfect place to spend a hot day. She hurried back upstairs and led the other women down to the basement. There, each wrapped in a warm blanket, the women fell asleep. Myiona's dreams were filling with horrifying images. Mura'shar trying to kill her one minute and kissing her passionately the next. She cried in her sleep and suffered through her dreams the rest of the night. Vicky aka Myiona

La’rece came awake with a start. Across from the Arafellan, Myiona seemed to be having a heated conversation in sleep. La’rece had not had a chance to speak with Myiona about whatever events had led to her obvious distress. Of course, they had rather pressing issues on their plates right now. Not the least of which was Alcinia’s … twin. Turning her head to gaze at the sleeping girl, La’rece fought the urge to assume the young woman, one of the Others, was Black Ajah. *Isn’t she?* the Arafellan thought bitterly. *Every last one of them is likely a darkfriend if the Black Ajah moves so openly among them* As the girl’s chest rose and fell with her breathing, the Dragonsworn considered the options. La’rece did not kid herself about being able to trust the girl. That would never happen. Not on her part. No, they needed a way to make sure she neither betrayed them nor was able to attack. Quickly glancing back over to the sleeping Myiona, La’rece channeled preparing deft weaves of mostly spirit. Taking a deep breath, the Dragonsworn struck out at the girl, driving a solid block between her and the True Source. She had not been stilled, only shielded, but if she made one wrong move, La’rece had every intention of knocking her out and then severing her from Saidar forever. Watching the still sleeping girl, La’rece sat back with a sigh. The Arafellan disliked operating in such a sneaking fashion, but hard lessons had been learned over the many years she had been battling shadowspawn and darkfriends alike. Sometimes you did what you had to, whether you wanted to or not. Getting up quietly so as not to awaken the sleeping girl, La’rece moved over to where Myiona tossed and turned. For a long while, the Dragonsworn watched her friend sleep wondering what troubles pursued the First in her sleep, wondering if she should awaken her.
Lauren
La’rece Barata’gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 When Mera'shar had finished warding his tent, he ambled over to Myiona's. maybe she will need to be "comforted" in this hour of crisis for her. He grinned at the thought. But when he arrived at Myiona's tent, it was empty. Curious. Why would she blatantly disobey Tareena when she's already in enough trouble? Still, it gave him an idea. Going through her things, he soon found a small belt knife. Perfect. Careful not to be seen, Mera'shar made his way to the hospital tent where La'rece was resting. If he could plant another murder on Myiona, her downfall would be complete. He quietly slipped intuit he tent with the knife at the ready. This tent too was empty. A neat slice in the fabric of the back of the tent made a second entrance, or exit. Mera'shar felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. Concentrating on the bond for a moment, Mera'shar determined Myiona was not in the camp. La'rece must have reached her somehow, and they're fleeing before I can get to them! How many more have figured it out. How many have joined those two? Growling under his breath, Mera'shar wove Folded Light about himself and crept out of the camp He let the weave collapse when he was safely away fro camp, and followed the bond. He didn't know where they were headed, but he was determined to catch up with them before they could do anything to harm him. The time for games has ended. ------------------------------------------------------------- Mura'shar was dangling by one arm from the grasp of an enormous two-headed creature. The faces were beautiful, a man's and a woman's, but it was pure evil. Myiona lay crumpled against a wall, already fallen to the being. Mura'shar was shielded and unarmed, save for a knife in his boot. With his free arm, he desperately reached for the blade. What is happening here? Haven't I already done this before? He remembered this event vaguely. He was a Dedicated, not yet bonded to Myiona, though they had already been through so much in the Spine of the World together. He remembered this creature, trying to carry off Myiona to carry on Aginor's work. But the details...it was so hard to think! They won out against the creature, though both were so weak and wounded they could barely stand afterwards. Mura'shar pulled out the knife and drove it into the eye of one of the heads, and waited for the pain of the creature's return strike. It didn't come. Mura'shar fell to the ground with an "oof" as the two headed monster bellowed in pain. It clawed at it's face and staggered backwards screaming. The world seemed to blur for a moment, and Mura'shar lost consciousness. Wen he awoke, the creature was dead already and cavern was silent. Mura'shar sat up and checked himself for injuries. He was surprised that he was unwounded. He looked around for the rest of the black Tower. "Alan!" he called out "Crystinah! Kano! Where are you?" he called for the other three who fought the monster, but there was no reply. There should have been a battle raging all around them against Shadowspawn, but hew was alone, save for the corpse of this monster, and Myiona. She still lay where she landed, still as death. Mura'shar gently rolled her over and checked her for injuries. He was not as surprised to find there were none. What was going on here? Myiona's eyes fluttered open "Mura'shar, where are we? What is this place?" She threw her arms around him and looked about fearfully "We're underneath the city from the Age of Legends, in the Spine of the World, remember? In the Jangai Pass" he answered automatically, wondering if he missed a head injury "This is one of Aginor's old labs. We just fought one of his masterpieces, but everyone is gone now. What happened?" Myiona's gaze shifted to the carcass on the floor then turned back to Mura'shar "You saved me! She cried and began raining his face with kisses. Mura'shar was hesitant at first. Myiona had flirted with him before but they weren't this serious, were they? Or maybe they were? Past and present muddled themselves in his mind until he didn't know what to think. He finally gave in and returned the embrace. He kissed her back, but his mind was churning Something was wrong, but he couldn't put his finger on it. This was Initiate Myiona, but where was everyone? Where was Ivan, La'rece, Janara? Where was Tor? Rengar? Odessa? What did he mean, where were they? Some had already left the Tower, the others were...were...where was he? Myiona was asking him to describe the battle. She couldn't remember it. Mura'shar did what he could, describing their earlier defenses and their trip through the sewers, and the final battle in the labs. Myiona kept asking for details, which set off alarms in his mind. He gave her a sharp look. "Why do you want to know all this? You were there too. You've seen everything I've seen" "I don't remember, Myiona said, touching the top of her head" This, creature must have hit me harder than I thought. I don't remember anything. But you," she touched his arm. "I checked you. There are no injuries on you. Or me" he touched his belly. He remembered now. He was stabbed there... Myiona smiled "You're right" she whispered "You aren't hurt at all. You're very stubborn" She grabbed his face in both hands and kissed him deeply. Mura'shar responded in spite of himself, as the world went hazy... He was still kissing her when he awoke. He opened his eyes and saw Myiona grinning down at him, her eyes full of mischief. And clothed in black robes. With a yelp Mura'shar rolled away and hit the floor. He scuttled as far as he could until he hit a wall. Myiona laughed and adjusted her slightly disheveled robes "I can see why she was attracted to you. There is a certain thrill in the hunt" Mura'shar felt his face heating up. It was her in that...dream...whatever it was. Not the "real Myiona" he couldn't make himself look at this black-clad duplicate. She laughed again Oh, my, that was fun. Too bad I already knew about that lab. We simply must do that again sometime. But don't quit so early next time. Dreams can be every bit as good as reality" She gave him a wink and swept out of the room. Jake
Marked Asha'man

 Alcinia was not happy to be out searching for Myiona and La'rece. What was the sudden need to get them back at the camp? What was Tareena really afraid of? Her anger was just barely contained, and it did not seem right to the Mayene. "Aramis," she said slowing down to walk beside him, "do you notice anything strange about Tareena. She seems too anxious to get Myiona back. At first, I assumed that Mura'shar might be one of the others, but what if the Guardian is too?" She couldn't help shivering at the thought of being near to one who had chosen the Great Lord of the Dark as master.

 Tareena stood tapping her foot outside of Stevan's tent, barely a hairs breath from venting her frustration on the guard outside of it. Gone! Where in the light could he have gone! He had just suffered a knife wound in the shoulder hours early and he had gone! Who in this light blessed camp would agree to let that man off of his pallet and out into the night. When she got her hands on them, they were going to wish that they had used the brains the creator had given them. Tareena rarely lost her temper, having learned as a damane that it onlyh brought pain and trouble. Now, however, it churned inside of her, threatening to unleash on the next available target. Tareena turned to go when she noticed out of the corner of her eye Alcina, beginning to try to slip back out of the circle of ligth created by the lanterns surrounding the tent. Now what is that girl going skulking about in the night and around Stevan's tent to boot. No good is the reason and I intend to figure out why. Snapping an order to freeze, she saw hesitancy in the Dragonsworn's eyes which served to fuel her anger even further. Lowering her voice almost to a growl, she forced the Dragonsworn to tell her in no uncertain terms what had brought her to this particular tent at this particular tent. If Tareena thought she was angry before, it was nothing to where she found herself now. So Myiona thinks she can just disregard an order of mine, does she. Wait until I get my hands on that woman, she will think she is a novice wearing white once more! And La'rece, helping her! They will both be scrubbing the underbelly of this camp for years! Knowing, even in her rage, that it was not safe for her to be going about the city alone, Tareena instructed Alcina to follow her and be quick about it. Again, hesitation on the part of the Dragonsworn. "Tareena, I...must...I mean...I" "Lord girl, spit it out, I don't have all day to be lolleygagging with you. What is it?" Tareena watched in astonishment as the girl blushed, Blushed! and stammered that she had to tell her bondmate where she was going. "Bondmate? Since when have you taken a bondmate Alcina?" Tareena listened as the story came tumbling out and watched as she stood unconsciously defiant. not even realizing that already she was defending her bondmate. For one moment, a slight slab of jealousy ran through Tareena but she immediately stuffed it way down inside of her. Just because he paid a little bit of attention to you, does not mean anything. Besides, you have Darren and nothing is going to change that. He is your bondmate, not anyone else. Once Alcina informed Aramis of their destination, he insisted on joing the two of tehm, regardless of their protests. Tareena finally instructed Alcina to stop arguing with the man. Once a man had decided that he was going to do something, there was no going back. With a sigh, she turned and motioned for them to follow, out into the city. Wandering around at night in a strange city was hazardous at best but when Tareena learned of the information Aramis had and coupled it with her own knowledge of what Luthar had told her, her blood ran cold. Somewhere out there, there mirror equals were plotting and planning against them and they had no idea how to tell one from the other. Sliding in and out of the shadows, they searched, wandering if they were even in the right part of the city. Occasionally they heard footsteps and avoided them, waiting in doorways while they passed. None were the Dragonsworn they were looking for. Hearing another set, they carfefully slid into another doorway, having to back further into the room than planned due to the lightness of the street. Tareena held her breath and then fought down a scream as a hand stole around her and covered her mouth. Not daring to embrace Saidar for fear of bringing unwatned attention, her eyes were large in her head as a voice whispered into her ear. "It's me, Luthar, don't be afraid, I just didn't want you to scream." With a quiet gasp, Tareena sucked in air, trying to quiet her frantically beating heart. The Soldier immediately let go and dropped his hands, walking over to quietly report to Aramis. Tareen knew that it was the correct thing to do but she was itching to talk to him herself. Luthar must have known what they needed for within minutes, Aramis motioned them all forward and together they began to search the night once more.
Lisa
~aka Tareen De'Havilan Guardian,
Marked Dragonsworn
Bondmate to Darren Sadke

 La'rece leaned against the wall and caught her breath. She and Myiona had been moving at a steady pace throughout the late night hours. By her estimation, unless the Others had established their base at the far edge or outskirts of the domed city, they must be on the other side of the enemy camp. "Are you alright?" Myiona asked. As a former Aes Sedai of the Green Ajah, the First was well familiar with the effects of healing and the exhaustion that accompanied an individual's recovery. Healing required a great deal of energy from the person being healed and La'rece's wound had been severe enough to cause the Dragonsworn lingering weakness. "I'm … fine. Light, I feel as though I could sleep for a fortnight." The Arafellan's eyes, however, were as sharp as ever as she looked at her friend. "It's going to be alright, Myiona. We'll make it alright." Myiona looked at La'rece in the dim light and attempted a smile. Circumstances had somehow spun out of control with misunderstanding piling on deception piling on betrayal piling on … The former Green, now First amongst the Tower's Dragonsworn despite the accusations against her, firmed her resolve. "If you're able to continue, La'rece, we should keep moving until we find a suitable place to …" Myiona could not bring herself to use the word 'hide', even if they were "… dig in?" La'rece offered. Myiona raised an eyebrow at her fellow Dragonsworn and suddenly found herself barely suppressing laughter. For a moment, La'rece looked at the woman as though she had gone mad then found herself almost laughing herself. Footsteps in the distance and the sound of falling gravel focused the two women's attention and galvanized their resolve to continue on until they found a safe place to set up a base of their own. *I truly hope we can get word to Tareena or Stevan before it's too late …* La'rece had dire concerns as to her and Myiona's chances without some sort of support from the Black Tower forces. As they continued walking, the Arafellan wondered if Xyranthes was alright … if they managed to survive, the man was their only ticket back to their own reality …
Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 Windrider huffed loudly and shuffled his hooved feet. It was amazing how long the stallion had remained at Talia's side. He didn't like Rhuidean.. and neither did Talia. The whole area gave her the eerie feeling that something's not right. Dismounting her faithful steed, Talia took his reigns and gave the whole landscape around Rhuidean a careful once over. It had been a long trip, she mused. She could feel Alan close by once again. She had forgotten how much she missed that feeling.. and how much it had terrified her when she first experienced it. (~Well, time to get to work and stop making goo goo eyes at the first sign of Alan~) Talia smirked lightly at the thought. Talia headed toward the first sign of civilization she'd seen in quite some time. After a while, Talia's eyes fell upon something very disturbing. A woman. Well, of course, for this to be surprising in the least, this certain woman was obviously no ordinary woman. She was.. Talia. Confused, yet? Talia was very confused, herself. Just to be safe, Talia decided not to use Saidar for anything as she used her old stealthy adventuring skills to follow this impersonator. As she did so, she found herself thinking that the others must be having fun. She also wondered if this other woman had made any moves on Alan. Now, THAT in and of itself made her angry. (~Ooh, she had better keep her hands off.~) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Taria was a warrior of the finest calibre, a stealthy spy -- just a few of the reasons Zeranthes liked to ally himself with her. She also had a very cruel sense of humor gained drastically ever since she avowed herself to the Great Lord of the Dark. At this time, Taria strode purposefully toward Zeranthes' last known position. He had mentioned offering the Great Lord's benefits to his Light-fool counterpart. If his counterpart refused (and she thought he would), she wanted to have some fun. Taria grinned broadly when she saw Zeranthes with a little man full of fear, heading out of where she could only surmise the poor "lad" was held. Again, she was right. He refused. She knew this was Zeranthes by the way he held himself. Completely confident.. and sometimes overly so. "Light shine on you, friend." Taria smirked, her wicked sense of humor showing by her sarcastic use of the word "Light." The answer was a backhand across her cheek. "Fool.." Zeranthes hissed through gritted teeth. "Your counterpart is not on this mission. You could give us all away. I told you to stay put." Taria only smiled in return. She was used to Zeranthes' abusive behavior. "You wouldn't go out and have all the fun and expect me to stay put, now would you? Where's our unfortunate friend?" Taria grinned quite wickedly. "Can I play?" Dangerous light shone in her eyes.. and anyone would know that Taria had no intention of playing any childish game. Zeranthes could never resist. Surely, by the time Taria was through with him, Xyranthes would beg to be a part of the Great Lord's plans, no? "Very well.. don't be foolhardy like the last time." His eyes shone almost red with the left over anger from remembering that said 'last time.' Taria grinned even wider.. and a more mischevious and wicked grin than before. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Talia couldn't believe all this was happening. From her perch a ways back from Taria and Zeranthes she could only hear a few snippets of the conversation, but it was alarming to say the least. As Xyranthes.. or.. whoever it was turned, dragging Sneed with him, other-Talia entered a building. By the looks of things, these were both imposters. Xyranthes never dragged people about.. let alone backhanded her. Talia made sure the imposter was out of sight before she snuck after.. herself.. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ OOC: I'm back! I think.. *giggles* It feels so good to be back, too. *hugs all around!*
T aka Miya <><

 Aramis stood with the Guardian, Alcinia and the Soldier Luthar. They stood in the pale, washed-out shadows of a pale, washed-out world. "Soldier Luthar said that he's seen the T'sorovan'm'hael and Soldier Collin, La'rece and Myiona, and Mura'shar out roaming the streets tonight. In fact, he's seen just about everybody out tonight. Even the ones I know for a fact are still in their tents." "I saw something else, Asha'man," said Luthar, "the body of a man lying in the streets. I thought he was you, at first. He had your face. But this man had no hands, and hadn't for some time." Aramis nodded. "I know. I killed him. But that's the important thing. Details. This other Black Tower wears our faces, but the details are wrong." "Then we must be specific," said Tareena, "If someone hails us as friend, we ask questions, specific questions." She looked at Aramis and Luthar. "You two should stand ready to attack if anything goes badly. Try not to kill, if possible, but do not hesitate if you must kill. Our first goal should be to find Stevan. You saw him last, Luthar. Take us there." Luthar went out into the night, with the Guardian behind him. Aramis motioned for Alcinia to go next; Aramis brought up the rear. He fought the urge to be over protective of his bondmate, and found himself looking forward to the next time they could sit down and talk. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
James
aka Aramis
Bondmate to Alcinia

 Myiona stumbled over something in the darkness and leaned down to see what it was. A body lay amid the rocks and sand that littered the waste. She knelt down and realized the person was still alive, but just barely. "La'rece," she said softly, "we can't just leave her here. She will die when the sun hits her in the morning. And we don't know for sure that she is not our Alcinia. We have to help her." The Arafellan nodded and Myiona quickly tried to heal the worse of the girl's injuries. She could not take the time to heal her properly, and even doubted it was possible without first giving her the water she had gone without for too long. Together, the two women got her up on her feet. "Thanks," the girls said through swollen lips, "I would have never expected sympathy from either of you. But, now that the big brute is gone I can survive." Myiona did not reply, but realized that they had found Alcinia's counterpart. They walked on until they found an opening in the wall, a place where construction had stopped for no apparant reason. The women snuck through the hole and into a building nearby. "You both rest here," Myiona said, "I want to check this out before I go to sleep." She hurried through the dark corridors until she found a closed door. She opened it and found stairs leading down. It was a basement and much cooler than the rest of the building, a perfect place to spend a hot day. She hurried back upstairs and led the other women down to the basement. There, each wrapped in a warm blanket, the women fell asleep. Myiona's dreams were filling with horrifying images. Mura'shar trying to kill her one minute and kissing her passionately the next. She cried in her sleep and suffered through her dreams the rest of the night. Vicky
aka Myiona

 La’rece came awake with a start. Across from the Arafellan, Myiona seemed to be having a heated conversation in sleep. La’rece had not had a chance to speak with Myiona about whatever events had led to her obvious distress. Of course, they had rather pressing issues on their plates right now. Not the least of which was Alcinia’s … twin. Turning her head to gaze at the sleeping girl, La’rece fought the urge to assume the young woman, one of the Others, was Black Ajah. *Isn’t she?* the Arafellan thought bitterly. *Every last one of them is likely a darkfriend if the Black Ajah moves so openly among them* As the girl’s chest rose and fell with her breathing, the Dragonsworn considered the options. La’rece did not kid herself about being able to trust the girl. That would never happen. Not on her part. No, they needed a way to make sure she neither betrayed them nor was able to attack. Quickly glancing back over to the sleeping Myiona, La’rece channeled preparing deft weaves of mostly spirit. Taking a deep breath, the Dragonsworn struck out at the girl, driving a solid block between her and the True Source. She had not been stilled, only shielded, but if she made one wrong move, La’rece had every intention of knocking her out and then severing her from Saidar forever. Watching the still sleeping girl, La’rece sat back with a sigh. The Arafellan disliked operating in such a sneaking fashion, but hard lessons had been learned over the many years she had been battling shadowspawn and darkfriends alike. Sometimes you did what you had to, whether you wanted to or not. Getting up quietly so as not to awaken the sleeping girl, La’rece moved over to where Myiona tossed and turned. For a long while, the Dragonsworn watched her friend sleep wondering what troubles pursued the First in her sleep, wondering if she should awaken her. Lauren La’rece Barata’gan Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 When Mera'shar had finished warding his tent, he ambled over to Myiona's. maybe she will need to be "comforted" in this hour of crisis for her. He grinned at the thought. But when he arrived at Myiona's tent, it was empty. Curious. Why would she blatantly disobey Tareena when she's already in enough trouble? Still, it gave him an idea. Going through her things, he soon found a small belt knife. Perfect. Careful not to be seen, Mera'shar made his way to the hospital tent where La'rece was resting. If he could plant another murder on Myiona, her downfall would be complete. He quietly slipped intuit he tent with the knife at the ready. This tent too was empty. A neat slice in the fabric of the back of the tent made a second entrance, or exit. Mera'shar felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. Concentrating on the bond for a moment, Mera'shar determined Myiona was not in the camp. La'rece must have reached her somehow, and they're fleeing before I can get to them! How many more have figured it out. How many have joined those two? Growling under his breath, Mera'shar wove Folded Light about himself and crept out of the camp He let the weave collapse when he was safely away fro camp, and followed the bond. He didn't know where they were headed, but he was determined to catch up with them before they could do anything to harm him. The time for games has ended. ------------------------------------------------------------- Mura'shar was dangling by one arm from the grasp of an enormous two-headed creature. The faces were beautiful, a man's and a woman's, but it was pure evil. Myiona lay crumpled against a wall, already fallen to the being. Mura'shar was shielded and unarmed, save for a knife in his boot. With his free arm, he desperately reached for the blade. What is happening here? Haven't I already done this before? He remembered this event vaguely. He was a Dedicated, not yet bonded to Myiona, though they had already been through so much in the Spine of the World together. He remembered this creature, trying to carry off Myiona to carry on Aginor's work. But the details...it was so hard to think! They won out against the creature, though both were so weak and wounded they could barely stand afterwards. Mura'shar pulled out the knife and drove it into the eye of one of the heads, and waited for the pain of the creature's return strike. It didn't come. Mura'shar fell to the ground with an "oof" as the two headed monster bellowed in pain. It clawed at it's face and staggered backwards screaming. The world seemed to blur for a moment, and Mura'shar lost consciousness. Wen he awoke, the creature was dead already and cavern was silent. Mura'shar sat up and checked himself for injuries. He was surprised that he was unwounded. He looked around for the rest of the black Tower. "Alan!" he called out "Crystinah! Kano! Where are you?" he called for the other three who fought the monster, but there was no reply. There should have been a battle raging all around them against Shadowspawn, but hew was alone, save for the corpse of this monster, and Myiona. She still lay where she landed, still as death. Mura'shar gently rolled her over and checked her for injuries. He was not as surprised to find there were none. What was going on here? Myiona's eyes fluttered open "Mura'shar, where are we? What is this place?" She threw her arms around him and looked about fearfully "We're underneath the city from the Age of Legends, in the Spine of the World, remember? In the Jangai Pass" he answered automatically, wondering if he missed a head injury "This is one of Aginor's old labs. We just fought one of his masterpieces, but everyone is gone now. What happened?" Myiona's gaze shifted to the carcass on the floor then turned back to Mura'shar "You saved me! She cried and began raining his face with kisses. Mura'shar was hesitant at first. Myiona had flirted with him before but they weren't this serious, were they? Or maybe they were? Past and present muddled themselves in his mind until he didn't know what to think. He finally gave in and returned the embrace. He kissed her back, but his mind was churning Something was wrong, but he couldn't put his finger on it. This was Initiate Myiona, but where was everyone? Where was Ivan, La'rece, Janara? Where was Tor? Rengar? Odessa? What did he mean, where were they? Some had already left the Tower, the others were...were...where was he? Myiona was asking him to describe the battle. She couldn't remember it. Mura'shar did what he could, describing their earlier defenses and their trip through the sewers, and the final battle in the labs. Myiona kept asking for details, which set off alarms in his mind. He gave her a sharp look. "Why do you want to know all this? You were there too. You've seen everything I've seen" "I don't remember, Myiona said, touching the top of her head" This, creature must have hit me harder than I thought. I don't remember anything. But you," she touched his arm. "I checked you. There are no injuries on you. Or me" he touched his belly. He remembered now. He was stabbed there... Myiona smiled "You're right" she whispered "You aren't hurt at all. You're very stubborn" She grabbed his face in both hands and kissed him deeply. Mura'shar responded in spite of himself, as the world went hazy... He was still kissing her when he awoke. He opened his eyes and saw Myiona grinning down at him, her eyes full of mischief. And clothed in black robes. With a yelp Mura'shar rolled away and hit the floor. He scuttled as far as he could until he hit a wall. Myiona laughed and adjusted her slightly disheveled robes "I can see why she was attracted to you. There is a certain thrill in the hunt" Mura'shar felt his face heating up. It was her in that...dream...whatever it was. Not the "real Myiona" he couldn't make himself look at this black-clad duplicate. She laughed again Oh, my, that was fun. Too bad I already knew about that lab. We simply must do that again sometime. But don't quit so early next time. Dreams can be every bit as good as reality" She gave him a wink and swept out of the room. Note Mura'shar's dream is indeed based on an rp done about a year ago. Any inconsistencies are the fault of Mura'shar's imperfect memory and not mine:)
Jake
Marked Asha'man

 Alcinia was not happy to be out searching for Myiona and La'rece. What was the sudden need to get them back at the camp? What was Tareena really afraid of? Her anger was just barely contained, and it did not seem right to the Mayene. "Aramis," she said slowing down to walk beside him, "do you notice anything strange about Tareena. She seems too anxious to get Myiona back. At first, I assumed that Mura'shar might be one of the others, but what if the Guardian is too?" She couldn't help shivering at the thought of being near to one who had chosen the Great Lord of the Dark as master.

 Ariana watched as the First and another -woman? she couldn't quite tell at this distance- crept off. Thoughts flew through her head at a furious pace. It was terribly suspicious, what with the knowledge that there were imposters in the camp. Why else would they be sneaking off but to go and report to the other Tower? Then her logical mind kicked in; there were several reasons for two members to creep out of the Black Tower- reconaissance, a personally assigned mission, even something truly personal like a private discussion or a disagreement. She rather thought Myiona had been treated harshly over the matter of those fool Dedicated; the tiny little voice in the back of her head (which she ignored as often as possible, lest it make her as paranoid as a False Dragon in Tar Valon) whispered that perhaps Taim had deliberately sent those smug, swaggering fools along. Why, she couldn't fathom; if he sabotaged the mission, wouldn't he have to answer to the Dragon? But that was neither here nor there. She herself would have probably done the same thing... or so she told herself. Liar, her mind said. You would have tried to heal them if you had. She couldn't deny it, but she could refuse to acknowledge it. I swear, those Oaths... She watched the two figures depart, and wondered if perhaps... she should follow them? For a moment she hesitated; after all, what if the camp was attacked, and a Healer was needed? But she decided to go, at least to follow just long enough to ascertain whether they were going to the enemy camp. Ariana hurriedly grabbed two waterskins and headed after them, striding (at least, her equivalent of striding) off as though she were on an errand. Whatever they were up to, she hoped it turned out to be for the side of Light. Oh, Light, I hope I don't have to...have to kill anyone. She had the vaguely disturbing feeling, however, that things might not go so well. Ok, ha! I promised, and I did! So the honor of my nonexistant blade is still intact... :) Hey, I might even be able to do another one by Sunday! We'll see.....
~E (The Ever Curious One)

 Tareena held her breath as footsteps came to the ears of the group once more. Tareena wished that she could embrace Sadair but that would only bring more trouble than it was worth. Quietly they waited, hoping that whomever was walking by, would just keep going. Tense and alert, she snuck a glance at her companions, wondering what was going through all of their heads. Probably the same thing as mine. Who can I trust? How will I know? Once or twice she had caught odd looks coming from Alcina but she wasn't sure why. The two of them had never particularly shown any dislike for the other, yet there was no love loss there either. Aramis was strong and confident as always, trying to lead the group through the maze of the city. Luthar, she trusted, without question. She could see him chafing at the delays. She knew he would rather be out and about by himself, instead of stuck with all of them. Tareena let out an involuntary gasp as Luthar's hand darted out and came back with a handful of Raileine's hair. Or who they thought was Railenine. Close behind her came Ly'dara, looking for all the world like a child with her hand caught in the cookie jar. Tareena's anger, which had been on a slow simmer in the back of her mind, erupted once more. Who in the bloody light let two Novititates out of the camp, exploring alone in this city! Maybe if Myiona had been paying more attention to the women in her charge, this wouldn't be happening. Even realizing that wasn't quite fair did not alleviate her anger. Grabbing each girl by an ear, she drug them into a doorway and began setting them down, quietly, and giving them a piece of her mind, interspersed with questions that only members of the true BT should know. Satisfied at their answers, she told them to stay quiet and follow, letting them know she would set their punishment when they returned to camp. With a grimace, both girls did as they were told. Tareena quietly motioned for the group to move forward, staring coldly back at Alcina when she received an odd look from the Dragonsworn. Tareena brought up the rear of the group, wanting to keep everyone else in front of her. Tareena pressed her hands to her stomach, willing its contents to stay down. She had been sick to her stomach back at their last stop, quietly retching in a corner, hoping no one noticed in the tension of waiting.

 Peeking through the window of a ruined building, Stevan could see the camp of their doubles in the distance. He turned around to remind Andraia and Collin of what they were doing. "Listen, at the moment we do not want to destroy the camp. We want to infiltrate it, and then see if any of our counterparts are posing as us in our camp. I also think that assassinations may be rife in this camp, as I am sure you have been educated about the tactics of the Forsaken and Darkfriends. Then, maybe, a few careful assassinations by ourselves may not go amiss." Andraia frowned. "We should return. This is too dangerous." Stevan sighed. "There is no turning back now. Yes it is dangerous, but it could be even more dangerous to let them overrun our camp. We need people on the inside of theirs. And who better to lead that mission then the highest ranked and most experienced Asha'man here?" Andraia frowned even more, obviously put off by Stevan's boasting, but Stevan turned to notice that Collin was looking very nervous. "Collin, I know this will be difficult for you, but I will make sure that one of us looks out for you. Try and remember that the Soldiers you will be training with will be around the same standard as you are." With Collin still looking nervous, and Andraia still frowning, they followed Stevan out of the building, and then through the streets. Stevan headed to the right of the camp as that was where he noticed the training ground seemed to be. "Collin, we will drop you in first..." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ --------------------------------------------
Steve <><

 Darren was running through the streets of Rhuidean, homing in on his bondmate. {{What is she doing here? It must be due to something else someone from this portal-stone world has done... And I don't think they would send her on a mission alone... Why do I think that? Well, there are probably still a few folks back at the tower who have learned to trust her by now since she has considerable rank... And she is certainly capable in combat, more versatile than I am...}} Darren suddenly stopped. He was shielded. He reached for his swords but found none. {{Oh, light burn me! Charging into dangerous territory right after my swords were melted!}} Quickly, air tripped him and pinned him to the ground. "I am Darren Sadke of the Black tower, in the service of Rand Al'Thor, the Dragon Reborn, to the end of the victory of the Light in Tarmon Gai'don." {{They won't believe I'm here because I did not come with them.}} "I... So you know I am who I say I am, well... were you on our trip to the land of the madmen? Do you remember the maze we explored? I solved that. Do you remember how I solved it?" The bonds loosened a little. A little. "Light! How would Darran know that?" Ariana stepped out of the shadow of a building, and into Darren's view. "How did Darren solve it?" {{Odd to have her talking to me in the third person!}} "I called everyone out of the maze and then destroyed the inverted weave which had created it. A few days previously, I drank from that multi-colored fountain. Do you recall what I was doing?" "No, I drank from it too... Ok." Darren was suddenly free. He rolled back onto his shoulders, then reversed and flipped onto his feet. he suddenly realized such a display of agility was probably in poor taste considering Ariana's handicap, but it was too late, and bringing further attention to it would be just making it worse. So he ignored it. "Thank you. Now, I am heading towards Tareena. And if you wouldn't mind accompanying me, could you explain what exactly you are doing here?" Ariana hesitated... **** Darran accosted a pair of soldiers who were sitting around doing little to serve the Dark One. "Give me your swords." The order ws straightforward, but only followed after some hesitation. Darren tried the blades, swinging them, tossing them spinning and catching them. {{Adequate. I won't get better without waiting a few months for a master swordsmith to make a new pair}}. Darran started to Travel back to the portal stone so he could return and finish off Darren, but stopped. {{Darren was able to defeat me last time. I will need help. Mera'shar, perhaps?}} Darran dropped by Mera'shar's tent, but no one was in. Judging from the number of messages left by Mera'shar's spies in various hiding places around the room, he had been away for some time. Darran left to consult with a spy of his own, to find out where Mera'shar was.
Luke
Darren Sadke
Bondmate of Tareena

 Ariana watched from a partially shattered window as the man ran past; he seemed... almost familiar. There was no way she was taking chances, though. He jerked to a halt as she slapped a shield on him. He fumbled for weapons he didn't seem to have. Hmm. That might be a bad sign, if he goes for a sword first, but then again, if he was one of ours in enemy territory, he would be cautious. She considered a moment. Then again, running down the street isn't particularly cautious... A thought, a brief weave, and a line of Air tripped him and held him against the heated stone of Rhuidean's street. "Who are you?" Ariana called from concealment. "I am Darren Sadke of the Black tower, in the service of Rand Al'Thor, the Dragon Reborn, to the end of the victory of the Light in Tarmon Gai'don." Well, what did you expect him to say? Ariana chided herself mentally. "I'm the evil twin of one of your comrades" ? He continued as she thought. "I... So you know I am who I say I am, well... were you on our trip to the Land of the Madmen? Do you remember the maze we explored? I solved that. Do you remember how I solved it?" Ariana considered carefully; unless the other tower had also gone there- something she didn't entirely rule out- this Darren was who he said he was. It was also possible that Darren had been captured by his reflection, and they had gotten this information from him... Still, she decided that he might react and perhaps give something away if he knew who he addressed, though she really didn't know the man very well. Ariana stepped out of the shadow of a building, and into Darren's view. "How did Darren solve it?" A strange look flickered across the man's face, as though the name, or speaking about the name, was odd. Hmm, another point in his favor. If he's really Darren, then it would probably feel strange talking about himself as if he wasn't present. "I called everyone out of the maze and then destroyed the inverted weave which had created it. A few days previously, I drank from that multi-colored fountain. Do you recall what I was doing?" Ariana shook her head. He had answered correctly, and the included details were correct. Well, if this is a mistake, and he really isn't on our side.... so perishes Ariana Kantori. And besides, if he was with the other side, well, she didn't want him running around loose. She released the bonds that held him on the ground. The Healer watched as the man discovered his freedom, then rolled back onto his shoulders,and reversed and flipped onto his feet. A look of guilt crossed his face when he regained his feet and looked at her, and Ariana refrained from sighing. Honestly, I swear one day I will make people stop dancing around my debility as though they think I'll break down crying or something. To ease his embarrassment, (or perhaps further it, she wasn't even sure what motivated her) she listened to his brief explanation of his purpose, hesitated a moment, then looked directly at him. He did say the correct bondmate... another possible proof. She was by no means certain that this mysteriously-arrived Asha'man was who he said he was. "I would be glad to accompany you. So long as you don't do that again." At his guilty look, she shook her head. "No, not using the talents you have; the feeling guilty part. I am crippled," she told him bluntly, "but the most annoying part of it is people who think they need to avoid noticing somehow. I will not break apart or pass out with anger or envy. The Creator gave you strength and agility; use it."The glare softened. "If you don't, you might as well be crippled, too." Her frown became a smile as he nodded, a little cautiously. Good. I thought he looked sensible enough to get realize that he doesn't have to hold himself down to my level. "And as for why we're here," she changed the subject, "most of the group has gone to find out what they can of the... the others." She glanced at him. "Do you know of this mission? I know you weren't here when we all left the Tower. Suffice it to say that we tracked some thieves from our world to this one, and have learned that they are- ourselves, only different." The Healer watched for his reaction. She had not a clue as to how he had gotten here, if he truly was Darren, but if he wasn't, she didn't want to give away too much. "How in the Light-" or out of it- "did you get here?" She asked, her Healer's curiosity finally getting the better of her. "This is not even our world, and you were not here when we began this... adventure... and now suddenly you appear in the middle of Rhuidean on another world. It is very strange, if it is coincidence." She shot him a glance that said she did not entirely believe it was such a thing. One tiny part of her warned her not to be completely off-guard, and for once she listened to it. She would keep a watchful eye on this Darren. Meanwhile, it would be useful to have someone who could track the others by a bond....

 ... >I will not break apart >or pass out with anger or envy. The Creator gave you strength and agility; >use it."The glare softened. "If you don't, you might as well be crippled, >too." Darren nodded, thinking of how he didn't usually mind that others could use the Power freely, while he could only use in in reaction. Darran's use, on the other hand did bother him. >"And as for why we're here," she changed the subject, "most of the group >has gone to find out what they >can of the... the others." >Ariana glanced at Darren. "Do you know of this mission? I know you >weren't here when we all left the Tower. Suffice it to say that we tracked >some thieves from our world to this one, and have learned that they are- >ourselves, only different." The Healer watched for his reaction. She had >not a clue as to how he had gotten here, if he truly was Darren, but if he >wasn't, she didn't want to give away too much. "How in the Light-" or out of >it- "did you get here?" She asked, her Healer's curiosity finally getting >the better of her. "This is not even our world, and you were not here when >we began this... adventure... and now suddenly you appear in the middle of >Rhuidean on another world. It is very strange, if it is coincidence." She >shot him a glance that said she did not entirely believe it was such a thing. Darren shook his head and set off towards Tareena. "it is not. If you remember, I was on special assignment for some time, investigating some strange dealings the Seanchan had made. I found out that my double himself as at the root of it. I found him, chased him. He came here. I followed. That these people would do more than one thing in our world would make sense, no? And no, I do not know of this mission. When I felt my bond to Tareena be present, I was in fact extremely surprised." Suddenly, Darren heard something above them. Stepping against a building, he looked up... nothing. {{Must be jumping at shadows}} **** Darran took great inverted-weave-aided leaps from building to building, hoping to find Mera'shar soon, so he could recruit him and return to the other universe to kill his double, Darren. If Darren got away, he could organize a surprise attack on the exchange of Aes Sedai for A'dam. A relocation of the exchange would be disastrous to the plan and the need for it must be avoided. At least Darren was only travelling by foot... he can't have gotten far. Another casually taken great leap found him directly above someone. A glance revealed them to be members of the other Black Tower - of no interest. He leapt again. Luke Darren Sadke/Darran Satke Bondmate of Tareena/Relation to Tareena's counterpart unknown

 Alcinia was not sure why Tareena grabbed to two Novitiates and added them to the group. The group kept getting larger and each person added increased the risk of being seen. The Mayene Dragonsworn knew Tareena had noticed the looks she had been giving her, but she could not bring herself to trust the woman. Too much had happened in the past day for Alcinia to trust anyone, except maybe her bondmate. She looked over at Aramis and sighed. Why had her life gotten so complicated?

 The door slammed open. "How dare you, you pathetic worm, how dare you enter my Library!" Zeranthes voice exploded across the room, it's withering tones projected at the small man lounging at the central desk, books piled high. Calmly Sneed took his boots off from the desk corner, placed the book in his lap, and looked at the furious Cairheinian. "Your world is very interesting." He said, and then channeled. Zeranthes was cut from the source, and hurled into the wall with a thick current of air. "And if you ever raise your voice at me again, I will kill you. A wonder my counterpart did not survive this place longer. Well, I shall just have to take his place." Zeranthes stared, in wonder as he saw the puny weasel of a man seemingly transform before his eyes. Gone was the slouch, the squinty eyes, the sharp nasal voice. Instead, Sneed stood tall and erect. shoulders broad and cut. The eyes held power, and the voice commanded respect. "The Dark One knows his own, he pleasures himself in the strong, and delights himself in the ambitious, and I serve him well. You wish to be Chosen, to take Aginor's place, but I shall be Nablis, not just in my world but in all the worlds." "How?" "Because I am more than I appear to be. I am the man in the middle. I bridge both worlds, and I shall master both." ********************** Xyranthes stood on the rooftop where his evil counterpart had placed him, the view was impressive, but after gazing at it for nearly half a day, the scenery had lost it's allure. Then he heard it. From down below him, a strange tapping. Slow, monotonous, the rhythm of the sound paced, like the beating of a heart, yet sharper. Tap, thump, tap, thump, tap, thump. Almost like, yes, a cane tapping upon the cold stone steps below. From behind him, Xyranthes heard the trap door open, and thud against the stone floor of his rooftop cell. "Hello, Xyranthes, I believe I am expected," ********************** " ... your counterpart, up there, is very special. Not only has he knowledge and power, but something far greater. For whatever reason, he has been chosen, not by the Great Lord, as we seek to be, but by the Light, as are his companions." Sneed paused, letting Zeranthes absorb all that had been said. "My associates have been seeking to get him alone for quite some time." Sneed turned and gazed at his elder. The old Cairheinian had long ago been released from the weave of air, and had sunk to his right knee, in homage or pain, Sneed was not sure. "He is a very powerful enemy. The son of Demandredal must not become Chosen of the Light." " Yes, great one, but if he cane be turned, he could be a great asset." "Yes, can it be done?" "He will serve us or die, my master." *************************** "I did not expect you..." Xyranthes voice trailed off. Herred Taucumatta straitened his white cloak, with it's shepherds crook embroidered in red over the golden sunburst denoting him as a 'Questioner' there was no mistake of what Herred was here for. "The Light has doubts about you..." "Doubts would be to strong a word," interrupted a second voice. Xyranthes head whipped around, the expression on his face changing from shock to joy. "Hello Xy, yes, it's me." "But, your..." "Dead, yes. But I am where the Light wills me to be, and so, I am here. As I said, Doubt is too strong a word. Our Creator and his servants seek confirmation." "It's the same thing, just called a different word." Zaria just shook her head, and stayed silent, Herred continued. "By aligning yourself so fully with the Dragon, you have placed yourself in the center of the coming storm. Xyranthes, the Light seeks to know if you have made the correct choice, and for the right reasons. When we where in Adamancia together, we talked long about serving the Light, purging the world of Shadows, and now is our time. But we must do what we must, and for the Glory of the Light, not our own." Zaria stepped forward, and touched the hand of her husband. Xyranthes had longed for that touch for so long. "You see my love, The right thing done for the wrong reason is damaged. Greed and the darkness inside us all can corrupt the mission, the work becomes tainted, and ultimately self-destructive. The Light wished to know if the right people are in the right place for the right reasons. And so It has called for an inquisitor." "Herred, I suppose." "Yes, I was chosen." Herred stepped forward, taking up Xyranthes view. "The Light has brought me here." "How long has it been?" "What, since we last saw one another, long ago, long ago it seems." The Shepherd of the Light turned, and gazed out upon the city. "Corruption, Immorality, chaos. Nothing ever changes, does it my old friend? Look out at the world, vices, greed, they run rampant." "How are you here, Herred? The Portal Stone?" "No." "Then..." "Xyranthes, I am no longer the man you once knew, just as you are no longer the man I knew. I am, transformed." "You mean ... you've been there, in His Halls, you've seen Him? I thought that aside from His mortal servants he had no contact with His creation" "Not quite, the Creator took me, transformed me. He's been to Adamancia, He's been everywhere. The Creator simply is. He found me, transported me, brought me into His service. Now, I go where I am needed, do what I must and wait patiently when I am no longer needed. I am called now, for this interrogation, and I am through with answering questions. I am here to ask, not tell." From inside his cloak the inquisitor pulls out two silver bracelets, and tosses them to Xyranthes. "Here, put these on. The manacles are made for you. You may remove them at any time, but if you do, then you admit defeat, and are shown as inadequate before the Light for the task at hand.
**********************
T minus two RP's
Peter
<><

 Xyranthes reached for the manacles ... and struck the floor of the roof. "Wha..." "Well, then, decided to wake up, have we?" The Old Cairheinian looked around, confused. The rooftop was the same, but where Herred and Zaria had stood, there was only empty floor. Off to his right stood a woman, garbed in red, a lot of red. Talia? "No, Taria, with an R," Xyranthes hadn't even realized he had said the name outloud. "you will learn better..." ***************** "As I said, master, I have all things well in hand. Already my counterpart is being broken by a lady of some ... special skills." Zeranthes, now the humble servant, sat in the small stool in the corner, giving Sneed all that the Cairheinian thought he should know. "Taria, yes, I've read your notes on her, very skilled in the 'Higher Arts'." "Yes, her skills have given her the rank of M'Sith, and with the pain Ter'Angreal, Xyranthes should be broken, within the day." "Excellent." "It is evening now, he will be missed." "No, it was common for Xyranthes to spend a long period of time amid his books, or wandering, learning as much as he could. Tomorrow you should go to the Black tower and..." *********************** Xyranthes' eyes came open a little. His mind was in a fog. He was face down on the cold stone floor of the rooftop, lit by what could only be torch light. There was a coppery taste in his mouth. Blood. He tried to think of where he was, why he was there, but the thoughts crowed his mind in a jumble. A sharp pain in his side caught his breath as he tried to inhale too deeply. His whole body hurt. He throbbed everywhere. The memory of the nightmare crept slowly back into his mind, seeping from some deeply hidden part of him. At the thought of Taria, his anger flashed. "Kivisht." The old tongue had many colorful words for shadowspawn like her, Ki visht was one of the more vulgar ones, Xyranthes smiled, thinking of the origins of the word. Then came the pain. "Do you want the pain to stop, my pet, then stop saying such nasty things about me." She placed a foot on his neck, it was wrapped in red leather. Xyranthes simply gasped like a fish, the pain too much for him to even scream out. Yet, he could take this. The pain set every nerve on fire, caused muscles to spasm, every pore to flood with sweat, yet, through it all, he managed to gasp out, "Who ... are ... you?" She took a fistful of his hair, lifted his head, twisted it, and looked into his eyes. As she leaned over, the boot on his neck sent a shard of pain through his shoulders, Strange, how even in the throws of excruciating pain, one could still feel newer, different sensations of pain. He couldn't move his body, save for a few muscles to spasm uncontrollably. Gazing up he saw her face was wrinkled in concern. "You don't know what I am?" "No." Again, it was a strain, but speaking was coming easier now. Her eyebrows lifted in delight. "My, my, how delicious." Her smile widened. "I am Taria, Mistress Taria to you, my pet. I am a servant of the Great Lord. And you are going to tell me everything you know about everything."
T minus 1 RP
**************** Take it away Talia. : ) Also, last RP was from what is arguable the best episode from the greatest Sci Fi show ever, this last one is from a contemporary author of Jordans. 20 points each. Finally, Melgodess isn't a known member. ****************
Peter
<><

 Unease crept through the bond and into Aramis' head, where it mirrored his own. He knew Alcinia's doubts. "What if the Guardian is one of them?" She whispered to him. aramis, though, could provide no answers; not yet. Luthar continued to lead them through the streets, finally stopping to inform the group that the other Tower's campsite was down the street a ways, in a large plaza. The Guardian spoke quickly, quietly, and suggested that now was the time to move. Stevan obviously had his own plans. However, if they moved against their counterparts as their counterparts had moved against them, the small group could do some damage. Infiltration and substitution. Kill, if necessary, but do it quietly. Still or Gentle as the need arises. It made sense, really. a person severed from the Source and left unconscious was as good as dead anyway. Overall, a good plan considering that none of them knew what Stevan planned. But Aramis had to know... "During our last mission into Ebou Dar, you saved my life," he said to Tareena, "How?" The Guardian gave him a long, cold stare. The pause lingered long enough to form doubts. Aramis siezed Saidin. Then she spoke. "We fought the Seanchan. You tortured a Sul'dam and a damane to death. When you lost your bloodlust you almost took your life. I convinced you to do otherwise." Tension drained from Aramis' shoulders like a receeding flood. She spoke the bitter truth. Through the bond he felt Alcinia's tension ease a little as well. Not wanting to draw the moment out any longer, Aramis suggested that he and Alcinia should circle around and come in through the other side. There were no sentries or guards posted, apparently, and in the dark any physical differences should be hidden; they should be able to penetrate the camp fairly easily. Tareena nodded. "Do that." She looked at Luthar. "Return to camp and gather anyone you can find. Bring them here." Luthar melted into the shadows. Aramis and Alcinia backtracked a ways and began a long flanking of the camp. "You should have warned me before you did that," said Alcinia. Aramis shook his head. "If I had, it might have turned a delicate situation into a dangerous one." He smiled at his bondmate. "But I will be more careful next time." They crept along, circling the camp. Alcinia pointed to an alley that led into a group of tents, thus an out of sight entry into camp. Aramis looked down at her. "Ready?" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ooc: I guess this is where we are supposed to be. Anyone who wants the chance to join the fun can be found by Luthar or wander in on your own. According to the outline we should be in the middle of part 6, which is the last part before the trip home and a party @ Steve's place ;-)
James
aka Aramis
Bondmate to Alcinia

 Alcinia was stunned when Aramis began questioning Tareena. Her way was to watch and wait, but he seemed to like to attack things head on. As they walked away she said, "You should have warned me before you did that." Aramis shook his head. "If I had, it might have turned a delicate situation into a dangerous one. But I will be more careful next time." They entered the camp and silently made their way from shadow to shadow. Alcinia was pleased that he knew how to move silently and carefully. With any luck they might be able to . . . Alcinia froze in her tracks as a shadow moved ahead of her. "So," a voice said as a figure stepped out of the tent, "you have returned little thief. Get in here before one of them sees you and decides to end your life before you report to me." "Myiona?" Alcinia said before she could stop herself. "Of course it is me," Myiona said pushing back the dark hood. "Who else would you report to? Now, where did you hide the ter'angreal I told you to take?"

 Mera'shar could sense he was slowly closing on Myiona's position. He still didn't know where she was heading, but he should overtake her before too long. He heard a voice call out to him "Mera'shar? Master?" Seizing saidin, Mera'shar drew his sword and scanned the area. An Asha'man stepped out from behind a fountain and saluted. "Sir, we've been looking for you, you're counterpart has escaped!" Mera'shar was stunned at what Asha'man...Bernard, that was it, had to say "Then how do you know I am Mera'shar and not Mura'shar?" he asked quietly. Bernard shrugged his shoulders. You're posture, your bearing. Mura'shar was never like that. And he has one of your bondmates with him. Naden, I think. He didn't seem like a person who would abandon an ally in enemy territory" Mera'shar grunted. There were holes in his logic, but fortunately for him he had still guessed right. "Next time be more careful. What is it? I'm busy right now" "Like I said, Myiona let Mura'shar escape. Both out circles are out looking for him. And it seems that others have been discovered. It may not be safe here anymore." He quickly explained the latest developments in Ruhidean. So Myiona and Lu'rece have been putting their heads together. That's hardly surprise. Both have been trying to bring him down for some time. Now she's looking for allies. Zeranthes and Alcinia are up to something as well. Neither had been seen for some time. And somebody finally put Aramis out of his misery. It's about time. But nothing crucial had come up besides Mura'shar's escape. "Also, Darran has been looking for you" Bernard finished. "It seems he had a run-in with his own counterpart and is looking for aid in finishing him off. Should we arrange a meeting?" This was news. Darran was supposed to be off on a mission of his own. What was he doing back already? He's an influential member of the Black Tower, one whom he could find useful to have owing him a favor. He considered abandoning his chase to go after this "Darren" But he was close. He could sense it. In another couple of hours, perhaps, he will overtake his quarry. Myiona would make a fitting replacement for Naden and La'rece will be no more. "No" he said "I have something to finish first. After I'm done with my errand, I'll meet with Darran. But not yet. For now, keep looking for Mura'shar. And this time kill him, and Naden, when you find them. They are now more trouble than they are worth" The former Red was the most spirited of his trophies. And know that spirit was going to cost her. __________________________________________________ Mura'shar ducked away from the window as another party passed by. He didn't know which Tower they were from, but he wasn't taking any chances. Not until he could determine how his own people would react to his appearance. His stomach rumbled. He would have to think of something soon. They had brought the food meant to be Mura'shar's supper. But a filling meal for one became a sparse dinner for two. He almost had to force Naden to take her share. She did nothing without his direct orders. Even eating. She fully expected Mura'shar to take all the food and was surprised when he didn't. His loathing of Mera'shar was growing ever stronger. "All I have to do is find someone who knows me well and get him, or her, to listen for a couple of minutes" he muttered to himself. Of course, he also had to me sure that he was talking to the right Tower member. How was he going to get someone to trust him when he can't fully trust them? He snuck another peek out a window of the building they were hiding in and ducked away again when he saw another party approaching. Was that Myiona and La'rece? If so, which ones? __________________________________________
Sorry for the weak rp folks, but I just got back from getting my wisdom teeth pulled and I'm too busy feeling sorry for myself to be very creative:) Maybe the next one will be better
Jake
Marked Asha'man

 Myiona awoke suddenly, sensing the nearness of her bondmate. She knew, however, that this was the one she did not want to find her. Was it possible that Mura'shar had been killed? Is that how the other had taken the bond? She quickly awakened La'rece. "We have to leave now," she whispered furiously. "He is nearby and can probably find me pretty easy." La'rece blinked and then nodded. "What about her?" she asked inclining her head toward the sleeping Alcinia. "We can't be slowed down by her," Myiona said reluctantly. "She will be fine with sleep. We can leave her a waterbag and some food for when she wakes up. You should probably remove the shield though. If what I sense about the men from the other tower is true, she will need every weapon she has." La'rece seemed reluctant, but finally agreed. The two women quickly moved out of the building, slipping through the shadows of the night. "Someone is over there," La'rece whispered pointing. "I will go check it out. Stay right here." Myiona did not have time to even gasp before she felt a hand wrap around her wrist. "Come on woman," Mera'shar said menacingly, "you are mine and never will I let you escape." *********************** Alcinia and Aramis stepped into Myiona's tent. "Well," she said stepping closer to the young thief, "where are my ter'angreal?" "I think," Alcinia said hesitantly, "that he has them, your adversary at the Black Tower." A hiss escaped Myiona's lips. "So," she said narrowing her eyes, "Mera'shar has taken another step against me. I will strip his flesh from his bones. I also have the matter of his double to consider. He has escaped and I must punish both him and the little lap dog that did his bidding." "You two," she ordered, "stay near my tent. If you must go out, try not to get killed before I return. I have another mission for my little thief and I do not want her harmed." Myiona quickly wrapped her dark cloak back around her body and opened a gateway. She stepped out atop one of the building and looked down into the city. She spied who she was looking for almost instantly, just as he grabbed her double. Running toward them, she embraced the source and slid a shield between him and Saidin. It would be difficult to hold for long, but with any luck she might have enough time to do what she needed. She stared for a moment at her double, wondering what he saw in such a weak person. "He is mine," Myiona told the follower of the light, "and I am taking him with me. You can keep his double. Maybe you can tame him." Laughing, she turned around to come face to face with another Mura'shar.

 Taria had never been so aggravated in all her life.. well, except for the time an especially nice toy of hers died when she was really just beginning to enjoy herself. Xyranthes, it seemed, had an incredibly high tolerance for pain. Every trick she tried, the only sounds coming from him were either insults or grunts when he couldn't keep quiet under the torture she bestowed. Time was fleeting, and it was approaching the time she was to return to Zeranthes and report what she had discovered.. only, she hadn't discovered much more than they already knew. (~Light-blasted waste of time...~) Taria delivered a quite angry and irritated backhand supported and enhanced by a weave of Air to Xyranthes' already bloody temple. Clasping her red gloved fingers about his chin, she raised his face up to meet her in the eyes. "Light-blinded, fool.." She muttered. "Where's your Creator now, pet?" The pain Ter'Angreal called out to Taria.. but it brought no comfort as it usually did. Zeranthes will be... angered.. if this session brought forth no fruit. "Where are your allies? I see no one coming to save your pathetic hide.." Taria slammed his face into the cold hard stone of the roof and walked away slowly... pacing, even. Circling him like a vulture circles its prey. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Talia lost her. (~Light curse it all!~) Somewhere in the center of this Tower in the middle of no where, Talia lost track of the woman who looked.. remarkably.. like herself. (~Only, she has a very tacky sense of style~) Not that Talia was an expert in style, but even a tomboy like her knew that wearing red all over was a bit.. loud. (~How could I lose someone wearing such bright clothing in a dark place like this?~) Talia tapped her fingers a bit anxiously on the hilt of her favorite dagger as she stealthily moved onward. Might as well go up.. right? Talia stops midstep.. Saidar. Someone's using a heck of a lot of Saidar. (~Why do I get a bad feeling about this?~) Rushing upward, Talia finally found herself on the top floor -- heading to the roof. She stopped there and listened.. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Fire. Air. Earth. Spirit. Water. Taria flung one powerful weave after another into the pain Ter'Angreal, hoping to get some kind of response out of Xyranthes. "Speak, you dog! Before I decide to stop being nice.. and start playing dirty." Xyranthes muttered something along the lines of what kind of thing her Ter'Angreal was and where she should put it. Taria sneered, "If you don't have something nice to say.." Air weave around his mouth.. "Don't say anything at all." Taria glared.. He wasn't going to talk. No matter what she did, he did not budge. "Pity, Xyranthes, my pet.. I rather liked you.." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Xyranthes! Talia glared herself.. though the target of her glare was much more deserving of such an expression. Hidden, she couldn't see his condition, but she could sense his situation. Shielded.. and with Saidar, too. Talia's luck. And it seemed linked to her double. And while her said double was not paying attention to anyone or anything but her "pet," Talia closed her eyes and concentrated.. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Taria slipped out a knife and smiled at Xyranthes. "Now, Zeranthes wanted me to save you.. He said.. no more accidents." Taria grinned wickedly, "And, there will be none.. I just hope you can withstand being sliced in a hundred places, pet.." ***Talia heard movement.. someone coming. She slid further into the shadows of a dark corner. Surprise is a tactical advantage she would probably survive by. "Taria.." muttered a dark voice.. Taria turned to find.. Sneed standing tall and looking directly at the knife in her hand. "I hope you weren't planning on doing anything.. permanant.. with that thing." Taria blinked.. and looked to Zeranthes.. who seemed to be groveling at his side. More doubles? Who was this man who made Zeranthes follow instead of lead? He must be formidable.. and higher than Zeranthes in standing with the Dark Lord. Taria grinned jovially, hiding her anger at Xyranthes, "Who me? Of course not.." Taria gave Xyr one last dangerous look before she turned back to Sneed and bowed slightly. "Might I have the pleasure of knowing your name?" ***The Shield is... being complicated. Talia wiped the sweat from her brow. Doing such things while trying also to avoid notice was not easy. The men, if they could channel, probably had thought her double was holding on to Saidar. As Talia worked on the shield, Sneed spoke of building a better anthill or something. (~My, Darkfriends are long winded..~) Talia managed to think as she poured more effort into Xyranthes shield. (~Blah blah blah.. do bad guys ever shut up?~) Time.. time had past. Talia couldn't figure out how long it had been.. but she was rewarded with a SNAP! The shield was unraveled! Now.. Now Xyranthes' shield was broken. (~Happy hunting, friend~) Not one to leave a wounded follower of the Dragon behind, Talia only slinked back a few steps. She waited for the right moment to help him fight.
~Talia Daimar~
~T~
<><

 "All tests are done for the refinement of the tested. Remember this Zaria." Herred looked on as Xyranthes screamed and writhed under the merciless ministration of Taria. Zaria had long ago fallen on the floor weeping. "How ... how can the Creator test us with suffering and evil?" "The Creator does not test with evil. He permits evil so the faith of one might be tested, refined, as gold is refined by fire." "It seems so cruel." "Only because man is so cruel." ********************** The pain was dulling now. Slowly one eye opened, revealing a red tinged world. Sometime during the interrogation, blood capillaries must have burst, tingeing the eye red. Xyranthes couldn't remember when that had happened. In fact, all of his memories where blurry. What was real and was imaginary had been so clear just a few hours ago? Yet he had thought he saw his wife and Herred. Yet they where both dead. His wife died in the last Shaido Aiel attack on Cairhein, and Herred had disappeared long ago. No, neither one could have been real. The manacles where not there, only the floor had been touched when he bent down to put the bracelets on. During the interrogation, Xyranthes had thought he heard voices, yet there was no one, save himself and Taria. Dear Creator, am I going Mad? Is the taint so far in my body now? Thoughts where all he could afford. Then the pain came again. That vile woman and her toy. In a moment of rage, Xyranthes muttered his thoughts on what she should do with it. All it brought was more suffering. ********************************** "Your brethren of this Black Tower will resist us. When I make my move it will make eleven enemies instead of just one." Sneed spoke softly, not fully trusting the weave he had orders to shelter their conversation. "Will they link with one another when we send Xyranthes out?" "No. That's our edge. It wouldn't do Xyranthes any good to link with them. He can't use the link for anything but an alarm, the others won't allow him to. Mer'Shar has ordered them to watch us. If one attacks Xyranthes, they'll sit on one another, thinking that Xyranthes is me. That way, we can be sure that whichever of them takes him on alone will be committing suicide. Xyranthes' is sure to take someone with him even if he gets killed. " Sneed nodded. "I can't blame him. That's what I'd do." "You would hold free people prisoner and put yourself in the position of having to do it?" The sarcasm in Zeranthes was nearly palpable. "Why can't you use a link with them -- at least some of them -- to borrow strength? I know their not close to Mer'Shar, and it wouldn't be very pleasant for either of you, but you should be able to stand it. I could." "If I had to," said Xyranthes, " I might be able to do it again. But I dare not, I'm to close to succeeding Mer'Shar." "What does that have to do with it?" "I could take strength from anybody till I can take it from everybody. I nearly did it the last time I tried, and I can't tell you how I nearly came to losing control. I almost tore the Link." "Almost provoked Mer'Shar into killing you, you mean. Mer'Shar isn't going to give up his power a day sooner than he has to." "That's just it. When Mer'Shar and I where on better terms he told me of others who would try and snatch the Tower from Cemosh if they weren't so afraid of others killing them to get it. For me to get killed trying to snatch the power away now would be worse than stupid." "Excellent, so Xyranthes can't use your people in the way they'd be most effective. All that means is that I will succeed when your counterpart fails. And he won't have enough time to get back to his own people to get their help. You have done well my young apprentice." The irony of a man half his servants age calling him young was lost on Zeranthes. ********************* 'Have you done as I asked?" "Yes, Herred, though I don't understand what..." "Destiny will be fulfilled. We must mearly see if Xyranthes will do what must be done. Shall he take his place in the Pattern, or will he squander what he has been offered? It is time." ********************** Sneed smiled a moment, then turned to his new servant. "Everything is going as I have foreseen it. Come, let us go up and see how goes the interrogation." Zeranthes quickly followed the arrogant Darkfriend, up the stairs. ********************** "Taria," muttered a dark voice... Taria turned to find... Sneed standing tall and looking directly at the knife in her hand. "I hope you weren't planning on doing anything ... permanent. with that thing." Taria blinked ... and looked to Zeranthes ... who seemed to be groveling at his side. "Who me? Of course not." Taria gave Der one last dangerous look before she turned back to Sneed and bowed slightly. "Might I have the pleasure of knowing your name?" "Who decides that the work day will be from sun up till sun down instead of from mid day till dusk? Who decides that the hem line will be below the knee this year and short again the next? Who draws the boarders, handles the currency and makes the decisions that happen transparently around us?" Bewildered, Taria replied with a smug, "I have no idea." "Ahh, I'm with them, same group different department. I'm what you might call the middle man. You may call me Sneed." Sneed then turned to Xyranthes. "Heal him." He commanded, and Zeranthes scurried to comply. Bending at the knees, Sneed looked into the face of Xyranthes. "Why do you resist? We are all moving for the same goal, aren't we?" "No." "No? Really, you need to study your theology more. You see Xyranthes, when the Creator made this great clockwork of a pattern we live in, he made two forces to guide it, shepherds if you will. They where to look after us, guide us, make us better." "One of these forces was the Light," Zeranthes butted in, unable to contain his chance for showing off his knowledge. "It holds to the Higher Ideals, Order, community, that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few or the one. Like our parents, the Light wants us to follow the path they think is best for us. Destiny they call it." "And then there is the Great Lord." Sneed deftly returns to the leading of the discussion. "He embodies the ideal that conflict and strife promote growth and strength. It's simple really, you have an ant hill. If I knock the ant hill over, the ants rebuild the colony, stronger, better, more efficient." "That's what the Dark One does then, knock over the anthills?" "Exactly," Ecstatic, Sneed rises up off his haunches, gesturing grandly, he walks the small space untouched by blood, "a few unfortunately get lost along the way. I don't think it's ever easy for the Creator, but we are simply doing His will, growing, making ourselves better. When those of us who have succeeded reach the top, we will be smatter, stronger, better from the ordeal. Once this is all over we can remake the world, into a glorious paradise. However the only thing standing in the way of this new world order is, you." Off in the corner of his eye, Xyranthes say something move. Quietly, a small figure, a ... woman? Yes, a woman, was moving. Talia. The Old Cairheinian smiled to himself. "We've brought you here to help us. You are a nexus, you link many things together with your knowledge, and we need that. You have the key, the key to the Ter'Angreal up there. You've seen it, a small man, holding a crystal ball in his outstretched right hand. And you know of the Sa'Angreal it is linked to. In our world, that huge wonder of the Age of Legends is just being uncovered. But here, in this world, it is standing high on it's pedestal, waiting to be used. The Dragon of this world is waiting to use it, he craves what power over everything it will give him. Yet, it is not for him. He would sit atop a desolate world, gazing at ruin, whereas I, I would remake a new Age of Legends. We shall reach the peak of our existence, never needing to grow anymore. We will be glorious." Xyranthes saw the perspiration on Talia's brow, and felt the shield give just a bit. Soon, very soon. Behind him, a hidden door opened, and a Myrddraal strode in. "So, you want me to help you make a new world in your image? I think not." "Oh, you will, once you have been with us long enough, you won't ever be the same." Gone was the Sneed caught up in the rapture of his new world vision. "Soon you will be one of us, and you will do what you are told." Sneed barked out, finger pointing at Xyranthes. The Shield was down, Xyranthes kicked out, catching Sneed in the solar plexus, knocking him into Zeranthes and Taria. He pivoted on his heels, and let the fire fly from his fingers. Somewhere a shrill scream went up from the smoldering body of the Myrddraal. The secret door stood open. Hoping to buy Talia some time to escape, Xyranthes ran through it.
T minus 0 RP's
Peter
<><

 Stevan and Andraia were once more in the shadows, moving along the outskirts of the enemy camp. Their counterparts were almost certain to be in the centre of the camp, where the large and lavish tents could be seen, far from the training ground where they had left Collin. They paused and slunk back into an alcove as they heard the patter of footsteps nearby, growing louder and then fading into the distance as time passed. Stevan stepped out to move again, when he felt a tug on the back of his shirt. Giving a quiet cry of alarm, he turned to see Andraia holding on to him. "Stevan, you must realise that it is pointless to walk straight into the camp to confront our opposites. A battle with the power will surely attract attention, and lead to us being killed." Stevan sighed, and then hissed, "What else do you propose we do?" Andraia gave a little smile, then strode out into the open, and into the outskirts of the camp. Stevan made to go after her, and then he realised why she had to go and not him. She was hooded, to protect her pale skin from the light, as well as ensure her albino features did not stand out from the shadows. That would mean she would be unrecognisable, whereas he would stand out a mile as their Tsorovan'm'hael. That could cause problems. Stevan leaned back against the wall, and sunk to the ground, as he laid his head back and waited for Andraia to return. In only a few minutes Andraia returned. "Our counterparts will be meeting us here in a few minutes," she said coldly, yet through the bond he could feel her air of triumph as she had bested him - he had no idea how they could fight their opposites outside of the camp, whereas she had just done so. "How?" he whispered. "I went to a soldier and asked him to take a message to Stevan and Andraia, to meet us here." Stevan looked in disgust. "Is that it? You are a white, surely your logic would tell you that they would not be foolish enough to meet a hooded stranger in a dark alley." Andraia appeared to be slightly insulted, but looked at him with all-knowing eyes. "Evil can never resist a challenge, even if they know it could lead to death." Stevan could only agree, as they stood and waited for the battle to commence. * * * * * Her hand was placed on his thigh, and her voice was sweet and seductive as she explained to him why he should let her take control of the Tower's spy network. Inwardly he sighed. The arousal was the only reason he let her speak, but even that pleasure was declining as time went by. Finally, he had had enough, and he stood up, throwing her hand of him with a violent stroke of his arm. "Endrya, you are already involved in every treachery and secret network imaginable. Do not think I do not know that. So why you want this position is a mystery to me." His voice turned to sarcasm as he continued. "Actually, I do know why. You want to take a position that at the moment the Tsorovan'm'hael, yours truly, holds, thus reducing me power. Now why would you want to do that? You have always liked me ever since I bonded you, which of course you asked me to do so." Endrya's face turned sullen as Stevan reminded her of her failings. "However, I think we can still work together as friends, don't you think?" Stevan ended his dialogue, finishing with a sickly sweet smile. Before Endrya had a chance to respond, a pounding came at the tent door. Before Stevan could get there, Endyra already had, perhaps eager to get away from him. There stood a soldier, shaking as he had to talk to the most powerful people in the Black Tower. "A-a m-message for y-y-you. S-someone requested t-to m-m-meet you on the n-n-north edge of the c-camp." Endrya turned to the smiling Stevan, who said to her, "I think some people think they can best us. I tend to disagree." Stevan strode over to the side of the tent and picked up a sword and shield. "I might need these..." He turned around and his gaze fell upon the soldier. "...And I also need some practice." He seized saidin and wove an unseen blade of Fire and Air, and swung it at the soldier, who gave one cry before being sliced into numerous pieces. Stevan strode over his remnants, and then helped Endrya over as they walked to the outskirts of their camp. "Really Stevan, you should let me play with them first..." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ -------------------------------------------- The battle will commence...
Steve
<><

 "I'll go check it out" La'rece said to Myiona. The Arafellan figured the individual had likely seen them, but may not have been certain from which Tower they hailed. Taking a circuitous route to avoid further detection, La'rece made her way carefully around to where she could get a better look at the person she had spotted moments before. Peering around an immense metallic pillar, La'rece watched what appeared to be Mura'shar gazing in the direction of Myiona. *One chance, woman. One chance. Do not blow it!* Gathering Saidar, La'rece prepared an intricate weave of Spirit touched with water. She would need to strike quickly and get the shield in place lest either Mura'shar or his Other struck out at her in a preemptive strike that could leave her dead. When she was ready, the Arafellan slid the shield into place. Outwardly, the man showed no reaction. Perhaps he was not holding Saidin at the time. For her part, La'rece was not certain if a man would realize he was shielded until he attempted to channel. Stepping forward toward the man, La'rece smiled. The man whirled around quickly scanning her face, looking her up and down. *Clearly he has doubts about me as well* Still, La'rece was not willing to let go of the shield. Not yet. "What's my name?" the Dragonsworn asked in a voice that demanded an answer. "Good question" the Asha'man replied. "I hope it's La'rece Barata'gan, however, it is difficult to be … certain. By the way, it's me … Mura'shar. Not the … other." "Unfortunately, you could have discovered my name in any number of ways, not the least of which may have been my own … counterpart" the Dragonsworn snorted. "Yes, I am La'rece Barata'gan. I have two bondmates. Identify them!" With a sigh, Mura'shar replied "Ivan and Janara. Both of them are gone from the Tower … and may never return." The stricken look that crossed the woman's face, quickly suppressed, was answer enough for the Asha'man. It was La'rece Barata'gan. The shield he had detected simply vanished as the woman leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes. "Where's Myiona, La'rece?" Mura'shar asked, impatience touching his voice. There was extreme danger afoot for all of them and he had no intention of risking his bondmate further. Not after his experiences over the last 24 hours. This other Tower needed to be destroyed. Opening her eyes, La'rece looked at Mura'shar and grinned. "This way, but we better hurry. We've seen the Others creeping about as well." The two made their way in a direct line back to where La'rece had left Myiona, but the First was no where to be seen. Quickly Mura'shar and La'rece searched the area. La'rece stepped into a shadow strewn alcove to see if perhaps Myiona had taken refuge out of sight of roving parties. There was no sign of her friend, but when the Arafellan turned to head back to Mura'shar, she heard voices on the other side of a large fallen pillar that lay partially in the alcove itself. Carefully, La'rece made her way around the obstacle and almost ran into Myiona. Or rather, another Myiona … the real First's Other. The Other Myiona had her arm around another … Mura'shar, or at least his Other. La'rece recognized the man and his clothes from their earlier encounter back in the real Black Tower's camp. The man had intended to kill her. How ironic that his own might kill him instead. But what was the Other Myiona saying … "He is mine and I am taking him with me. You can keep his double. Maybe you can tame him." The Other Myiona seemed to think that the Other Mura'shar was the real Mura'shar. The look on the real Myiona's face seemed to confirm La'rece's guess. Not having yet been detected, La'rece watched the exchange hoping for an opportunity to help Myiona. She didn't dare leave to find Mura'shar. As it turned out there was no need. As the Other Myiona turned about, Mura'shar stepped out of the shadows to face her. ******** Lu'rece watched from the shadows as Zeranthes' counterpart, *Xyranthes, was it?* made a dash for the far door. A sadistic smile spread over the Black Sister's face as she watched the man named Sneed writhe on the floor. Nearby, Zeranthes and Taria were trying to get to their feet. The other young woman, Taria's counterpart stood poised to do battle. Clearly Xyranthes had intended to make good her escape as well by catchng this farcical trio off guard. Rolling her eyes, Lu'rece strode forward to the girl and grabbing her by the arm thrust her toward the exit. "Go or stay, the choice is yours, but be forewarned, I shall not be so generous the next time we meet" the elegant darkfriend said to Talia. Flashing a look at the others getting to their feet, Talia quickly made her way to the door in pursuit of Xyranthes. After the girl had gone, Lu'rece turned to face Zeranthes, Taria and the man who only now was able to stand, if still uncomfortably. Zeranthes appeared to be acting subservient toward the other man. *Interesting* thought the Black Sister. "Well, now. What do we have here?" Lu'rece asked no one in particular, her body humming with the pulse of Saidar being channeled through the woven silver and gold bracelet she wore. "Taria … tsk tsk. I'm very disappointed in you, as I'm certain Myiona will be when she finds out you've been aiding Zeranthes in his plots." Turning toward the other man, Lu'rece added, "How do you fit in to this scheme, I wonder? You're not from our Tower. Speak." A wicked grin appeared on Sneed's face, and he spoke.
Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 Mera'shar gave a nasty grin as he closed in on his prey. He finally learned why he caught up to them so easily. So that's why they were moving so slowly. They managed to catch Alcinia. He left the little thief where they stashed her. She was sleeping peacefully and unimportant for now. He continued shadowing the other two. They were the ones who cold really hurt him. He finally caught sight of them late at night. Something about the ruins spooked them. La'rece went off alone to investigate. Now was his chance to divide and conquer. Using Folded Light again, he managed to reach Myiona before she even knew he was there. He clamped a hand on her wrist and growled. "Come on woman," Mera'shar said menacingly, "you are mine and never will I let you escape." He was about to open a gateway and Skim them someplace secure enough to hold her when he felt a shield slam into place. Mera'shar spun around in shock, had La'rece returned already? With his sword pin angeral, he could break the shield easily, but could he face both of the at once, even so augmented? But no, the figure he saw moving out of the shadows was...Myiona? "He is mine," Myiona told her counterpart, "and I am taking him with me. You can keep his double. Maybe you can tame him." So she thinks he's Mura'shar! Mera'shar tested the shield and wondered how quickly he could grab his sword if he had to. Then it was Myiona's turn to spin about in shock... ______________________________________ Mura'shar instructed Naden to stay out of sight and went in for a closer look at "Myiona" and "La'rece" if that's who they are. He saw their counterparts exchanging words at the other Black Tower and couldn't be certain they weren't involved in some plot. Naden was reluctant, but agreed to stay in the ruins. Mura'shar crept closer to them, keeping his stolen knife where he could grab it quickly. He must not have been sneaky enough, for he felt a shield slide into place. Mura'shar whirred around as La'rece stepped out of concealment. Careful not to make any threatening moves, he looked her over. Which one was she? "What's my name?" she asked without preamble Paranoia is abound tonight he thought. He tried to sod confident as he answered "Good question" he replied. "I hope it's La'rece Barata'gan, however, it is difficult to be … certain. By the way, it's me … Mura'shar. Not the … other." La'rece was not convinced. "Yes, I am La'rece Barata'gan. I have two bondmates. Identify them!" "Ivan and Janara. Both of them are gone from the Tower … and may never return." By the look on her face, Mura'shar knew this was the real La'rece. Pain like that can't be faked, he was sure. Mura'shar hoped Naden wouldn't try to come to his "rescue" now. That would require entirely too much explaining, to both of them. The shield vanished and La'rece leaned against a wall and closed her eyes. In relief or pain he wasn't sure. Mura'shar tried to be patient, but couldn't afford to be "Where is Myiona, La'rece?" If the bond was still in place, the impostor surely knows where she is, and that meant she was in danger. La'rece's words only confirmed his worry "This way, but we better hurry. We've seen the Others creeping about as well." Not waiting to tell Naden the news, Mura'shar hurried after the Dragonsworn. Once he was sure Myiona was safe, he'd bring his refugee to them and explain her situation. Myiona was not where La'rece left her, but a short search revealed her hiding place, as well as two other figures. Mera'shar, it had to be him. Had Myiona by the arm and was glaring at... Myiona? Mura'shar's mind filled with rage as he saw the sight. Myiona trapped between her own duplicate and his. He drew his knife and stepped out into the open. ____________________________________________ Mera'shar took advantage of the distraction to make his move. Drawing on his angreal, he burst free from Myiona's shield and drew his sword. He struck her on the head with the hilt and danced away as she fell to the ground stunned. He wanted to finish her, but a crushing fist of Air struck him in the chest, knocking him backwards. Mera'shar channeled and managed to block the follow-up fireball. Mera'shar's duplicate wasted no time. With a bellow of rage he plowed into him, stabbing at him with a wicked-looking knife. Mera'shar wove a protective weave about him, and tried to counterattack. Mura'shar had his own weave about him, but the knife went flying. How could he resist that? He must have an angreal too. And he began to fight for his life. ____________________________ The two identical men pummeled each other with their fists and the One power. Fire and lightning and whirlwinds blocked and revealed the battle to the witnesses. Forks of lightning and earthquakes occasionally blasted from this focus of power. At first, Mura'shar's sheer ferocity seemed to nearly overwhelm Mera'shar. But Mera'shar had a few tricks, which would have been forbidden in Mura'shar's Black Tower, were they known. And his angreal was stronger... +++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Okay, I'll finish this battle next time. Don't you love cliffhangers? ;-)

 "I am who I am, Lu'rece, and the Great Lord's own hand. Meddle not in the affairs of your betters, for we can be swift to anger, and you are crunchy and taste good in a Trolloc pot." As He spoke, Sneed snapped his fingers, and three Myrddraal materialized from the surrounding shadows. Turning to his servants, Sneed's disposition turned darker. "After him you fool." He grabbed Zeranthes, and heaved him in the direction the old Cairheinian had fled. "Taria, your double, go now." He turned back to Lu'rece. "I trust I have your ... approval for this." It was not a question. *************** The passages split, and split again. crossing and double crossing many times over. Xyranthes could hear footsteps behind him. Hurriedly, he ducked into a nearby alcove. Just as his tracker passed, he reached out and grabbed an arm.. "Talia?" *************** Sneed turned to Lu'rece. "Well, now you know, or at least guess as to what is going on around here. Sorry for being rude there, a moment ago, order must be maintained in front of the lesser servants. You understand don't you?" Without waiting for a reply, Sneed nods "good." And continues. "I'm faced with a rather difficult position now, either I must destroy you, or I must use you, or," he pauses dramatically, "we can work together..." *************** Xyranthes gave Talia such a firm and determined look ... it seemed as if he was making his last plea. "Talia... I need you to give this to La'rece ... the real one. Go now.." "..but..." Talia couldn't understand. Xyranthes' harsh whisper and his look made this seem more like a request than an order, but it was an order. She could sense that much. "Talia." Xyranthes gave her a stern look. Talia sighed softly, "Fine, but be careful, Xyranthes. I'll be expecting you ... don't do anything rash." Xyranthes almost showed a reaction to that statement, but his usually formidable look remained. "Go." Talia took the rolled up paper he gave her and stuffed it neatly in one of her many pockets. Choosing one of the other passageways, Talia skirted along, hoping she'd found the right passageway out of the place. ********************** Zeranthes rushed forward, following the footsteps he heard, running just a handful of paces in front of him. The winding, twisting passages of this section of the tower had been seldom used, save for the Myrddraal. As if thinking of them had summoned them, two of the pale eyeless things materialized beside him, falling in step behind him. "This isn't the way it should have gone." Zeranthes snarled. "The stupid fool was supposed to go rampaging through the rest of the camp. Bloody ashes." The chase continued on. ******************** "It is time we did what we must do." "Yes, finding her will not be easy, but I shall do my best." "Time is irrelevant, we can simply slow it down to our needs, remember that, Zaria, we can always have enough time." "Yes, Herred, I know." The small woman pulled out the letter Xyranthes had entrusted to her before. He would not remember giving it to her, but he had. This was her last time to do one last thing for the man she loved. Turning away, Zaria vanished into the night. "And now, it is my time." And Herred steps in the direction of Xyranthes. ******************** "I'd rather an ally, one I can trust, one who is strong enough to weather the storm that will come upon all worlds soon." Sneed stopped for a moment, then looked at the shadowsworn. "Are you that one, Lu'rece?" ******************** "Which way?" Zeranthes could not be sure, there where two tracks in the dust. He settled on the one leading back to the center of the tower, the one with the larger boot tracks. ******************** He stood in the massive room that Zeranthes had called him to, earlier that morning. So strange, that, it felt like he had been in this accursed place for weeks, if not months. Yet the room was changed. Without Zeranthes weaves to disguise it, the room was far larger, with a great central shaft, plunging down, far below the tower. Looking down, Xyranthes judged it to be at least two miles. "At least they have my letter." He breathed. A tremor shook his entire frail frame, causing the Old Cairheinian to nearly fall into the shaft, he hastily moved back a step. Blood oozed out of new cuts and wounds, received while fighting the Myrddraal and shadowspawn that infested this tower. Apparently Zeranthes and Sneed had been gathering a small army, probably to take over this world's Black Tower. And this would have been the key to it all. Xyranthes looked at it. It was small, perhaps a foot long, a white stone figurine of a man holding a crystal sphere in one upraised hand. Even now, as he held it, he felt it's power, softly it called to him, power, power to remake the world, limitless power. The old Cairheinian looked deep into the crystal, seeing the beauty of the faucets, seeing no flaw. A second voice chimed in his head. Beware the power that was simple now has grown, beware the power is a power never known. The first voice fought against the second. Everything one could ever desire was possible with this. So beautiful, so peaceful, so seemingness, so easy. Life could be restored, Zaria, Pa'ul, Chemen, all those loved and lost. They could be brought back, a new Age of Legends, one without the Dark One to taint the world. "I'd rather be a doorkeeper." Xyranthes said, and he wove a small, but complex weave of Air, Fire, Earth, Water and Spirit. Deep within the center of the Crystal, a tiny flaw formed. "Xyranthes." A small voice, but one the old Cairheinian had being fearing for some time. He wheeled around, fear and anxiety clearly in his eyes. "There is no where else to go." The face Xyranthes gazed at was his own, the cold hard face of Zeranthes, what the old Nobleman might have become, save for the Grace of the Light. "There is no escape. Come back inside, we can work this out." Xyranthes turned his face away from his double, back out into the pit at his feet. *********************** She waited for just the right moment, when her target would be alone. She was with a man, for a moment, then the man charged into his double, going down in a heap of arms and legs. Zaria made her move. *********************** "Xyranthes, you don't yet realize your importance. You have only begun to realize your power. Join me, and we will complete one another. With our combined strength we can end this destructive conflict, and bring order to the Pattern. Xyranthes, we can destroy the Dark one, he has foreseen his destruction. It is our destiny." A dull orange glow had begun in the center of the crystal. Zeranthes smiled. "It's awake, I knew you'd see the right way, sooner or later. Let me have it please, we can stop this pointless bickering and rule as brothers." ********************** "Are you La'rece Barata'gan?" A tiny voice asked from behind. "Light woman, where did you come from, La'rece hissed quietly. "I have a letter for you, from Xyranthes." A small hand held out a rolled piece of paper, La'rece took it, cautiously. "Why..." La'rece began, but the woman had already disappeared *********************** Herred stepped out from the timeless void. No longer corporeal, but now a thing of dreams. He entered into the mind of his old friend. ********************* Waiting till she was sure that nothing would befall her companions La'rece opened the scroll, reading the words, penned in Xyranthes strange scrawl. What started as wonder slowly changed to concern, to be displaced by sadness ******************* Jump, jump now. "Herred?" Xyranthes whispered. He looked back at Zeranthes. Two Myrddraal had entered behind the evil double. Zeranthes right hand was outstretched, palm upwards, a gesture of friendship, of reconciliation. Hope, mingled with greed glinted in his eyes. ******************* 'As I write these words, my heart is heavy for the wrongs I may have caused you.' The letter began, 'I was never my intention of causing you distress. Always it was in my mind to sit down, share a cup of tea with you, and get to know one another...' ******************* "I know your tower has been gathering the Angreal from many worlds." Sneed paused, sizing up on how much he could trust his 'aid.' " Zeranthes has quite a collection up there, mostly from this world. I want to know where the Angreal from my world are. None of them are up there, I would have known." ****************** Xyranthes smiled, matching his counterpart's own grin. "Sorry." He said, and tossed the Ter'Angreal away. With one short step, the old Cairheinian plunged into the shaft. ******************* 'I suppose that it can be said that all of life can be broken down into moments of transition and moments of revelation. I now have the feeling of both.' ******************* Zeranthes watched the small figurine, as it followed it's lazy arc. Deep in the center, the glow had brightened into a bright orange light. The sphere began to hum, and eerily disquieting sound. Eyes widening, Zeranthes rushed forward, fingers outstretched to catch the statue. "Mine, all the power is Mine. My Precious dreams, fulfilled" ******************* Sneed stood on the steps, Gazing out at the night sky high above. "Soon, all will be made mine." He turned to Lu'rece. ******************* 'It has been said that there is a greater darkness than the one we fight. It is the darkness of the soul that has lost it's way. We fight not against principalities or powers, but against the chaos and despair, against the darkness within ourselves, that would consume us.' La'rece looked up for a moment. It seemed as if the world was holding it's breath. ********************** So this is what it's like to fly? Xyranthes mulled over many things, the feeling of peace that had come with free fall, the way the wind blew his hair back, even the sound of the air rushing past. It was ... beautiful. ******************* Tap. The sound echoed across the whole of the city. Somewhere in the distance, faces turned to look towards the sound. From far away, a long voice, solemn and deep, began a dirge. Doom, the crack of doom. The power of the fire, the fire of Doom. ********************** The sphere struck the cold stone floor, and fractured. Zeranthes screamed a wordless cry of anguish and despair, as the sphere's inner light blossomed out, shattering everything into a bright ball of flame. ********************** Greater than the death of flesh, is the death of hope, the death of dreams. Against this peril we can never surrender ********************** Down, twenty stories, protected by solid stone, Sneed looked up with horror. "No, this cannot be." ********************** The future is all around us, waiting in moments of transition, to be born in moments of revelation ********************* High overhead, a lone Drakh circles the ruins of the once mighty tower of Zeranthes. Once a magnificent structure, now the top third is gone, leaving slag and debris behind. The lower sections still remained. ********************* No one knows the shape of that future or where it will take us. But what we do know is that it is always born in pain. ********************* Far below, at the bottom of the shaft, a small fire flickers. Beside it, laying halfway in the dirt, a gold dragon and a silver sword pin lay in the sand and ash, side by side.
Peter
<><

 Something was very wrong. Taria could sense this. Something was going on, but she couldn't put her finger on quite the reason why. Perhaps it was the look on Xyranthes' face or the suspicion that someone else was channelling Saidar, but, whatever the cause for Taria's paranoia, her suspicions were answered as Xyranthes suddenly kicked Sneed into her and Zeranthes. With a vicious snarl, Taria shoved Zeranthes off of her and jumped up to her feet... only to see the fleeing Xyranthes run where the Myrdraal had come from. "Light bl--" Taria almost cursed this when she saw out of the corner of her eye, movement. Before she could do anything about it, there was Lu'rece. Lu'rece: Taria's blood boiled with rage.. not only from the failure with Xyranthes, but from the mere sight of Lu'rece. She watched as Lu'rece grabbed Talia and shoved her to the same exit Xyranthes had taken. Lu'rece threw away a perfectly good prospective toy! Taria had a mouthful to give the woman, but she spoke before Taria had the chance. "Well, now. What do we have here?" Lu'rece asked no one in particular, her body humming with the pulse of Saidar being channelled through the woven silver and gold bracelet she wore. "Taria … tsk tsk. I'm very disappointed in you, as I'm certain Myiona will be when she finds out you've been aiding Zeranthes in his plots." Again, Lu'rece opened her big mouth before Taria had a chance to say a word. Determined not to let her toys leave so easily, she took hold of Saidar and kept a "mental" tag on her counterpart.. now that she knew who and where she was. Turning toward the other man, Lu'rece added, "How do you fit in to this scheme, I wonder? You're not from our Tower. Speak." "I am who I am, Lu'rece, and the Great Lord's own hand. Meddle not in the affairs of your betters, for we can be swift to anger, and you are crunchy and taste good in a trolloc pot." As He spoke, Sneed snapped his fingers, and three Myrddraal materialized from the surrounding shadows. Turning to his servant, Sneed's disposition turned darker. "After him you fool." He grabbed Zeranthes, and heaved him in the direction the old Cairheinian had fled. "Taria, your double, go now." He turned back to Lu'rece. "I trust I have your ... approval for this." It was not a question. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Odd.. she looked like La'rece, but she wasn't La'rece. Talia was frustrated at the most part. All these doubles.. it was so confusing. How many were there? Was there one for each member of the Tower? More? Talia scurried along the passageway that Xyranthes had disappeared within, hoping to catch up with him. Whatever side La'rece's double was on, she seemed to be stalling them.. for whatever reason, Talia didn't care. A sudden grip on her arm stopped her search.. She had found him. Or, rather, he had found her. Xyranthes gave Talia such a firm and determined look.. it seemed as if he was making his last plea. "Talia.. I need you to give this to La'rece.. the real one. Go now.." "..but.." Talia couldn't understand.. Xyranthes' harsh whisper and his look made this seem more like a request than an order, but it was an order. She could sense that much. "Talia." Xyranthes gave her a stern look. Talia sighed softly, "Fine, but be careful, Xyranthes. I'll be expecting you.. don't do anything rash." Xyranthes almost showed a reaction to that statement, but his usually formidable look remained. "Go." Talia took the rolled up paper he gave her and stuffed it neatly in one of her many pockets. Choosing one of the other passageways, Talia skirted along.. hoping she'd found the right passageway out of the place. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Taria grinned. Sneed was such a better boss than Zeranthes was. He actually let her hunt her prey. Zeranthes had gone down one passageway, but Taria sensed her own hunt went down another. The two had parted ways, it seemed. Only logical if one looked at it through a strategical view. Confuse your enemies.. But Taria was not confused. Her double would die tonight.. and she would take her place, causing the havoc that Xyranthes was to do himself.. had he succumbed to their.. persuasive offers. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Lost. Talia twirled in confusion. Three openings, three choices. (~I was never good at making decisions.. Where's Alan when I need him? Light blind Xyranthes.. we should both be heading out. What in the Creator's name is he up to?~) Talia hastily chose one of the openings and ran straight on into a stairway. (~Praise the Light!~) It looked like clear sailing from there. "Praising the Light is all you'll have time to do, where I'll send you." Came the harsh voice only seconds before a dagger tore through Talia's shoulder. Talia hadn't even noticed she had spoken aloud. "Thought you could avoid me? Your own flesh and blood?" Talia felt Saidar being gathered.. She had to think fast.. With a quick and very impulsive jump, Talia hurdled over the stairway's rail.. (~Impressive tactics.. but it won't save you for long, Light blinded fool~) Taria held out the pain Ter'Angreal and gathered her strength and Power through it.. "I never liked me, anyway.." Talia grabbed at a rail with her good arm as she sailed down past it.. It was old. Too old to really support her weight and the momentum of her body. However, it did slow her fall as it broke.. sending her to the floor below it.. crashing into its stairs. Talia winced, and gritted her teeth as she yanked the dagger out of her shoulder. (~Darkfriend wench won't beat me that easily~) Talia still sensed Saidar gathering. (~What's that woman doing?~) The Ter'Angreal.. Talia saw the woman holding it out before her.. it grew brighter. (~Light..~) Without even thinking about it, Talia struck out with Air and Fire.. Very little Fire, but Fire nonetheless. The force of the weave broke Taria's concentration on the Ter'Angreal and sent her flying down the same way Talia had. Unfortunately, the woman had the same reaction time as Talia did. (~No breaks.. No breaks at all. Is there even a Creator out there?~) Talia ran into the hallways of the current floor, and hid. Catching her breath slowly.. she only allowed enough Saidar that she might sense when her double neared. Touching the hilt of her dagger anxiously, Talia unsheathed the blade and attacked her double as she entered the hall. (~Infernal Light-allied wench!~) Taria was only slightly surprised at the attack, but retaliated full-force. Gritting her teeth, she matched Talia blow for blow. Talia sideswiped, Taria jumped back. Taria flashed a wicked scowl as she blasted Talia back with a weave of Air into the wall.. through the wall.. to the floor of an old abandoned room. Talia grunted in pain.. wincing as she struggled to get up. Taria attempted to push her down permanently with Air, but Talia sensed the weave and wove an Air shield about herself to prevent such a thing from happening. "Filthy Darkfriend.." Talia spoke through gritted teeth.. the pain was natural, but it hurt like the Pit of Doom. Struggling to match Taria's weave, Talia pushed against her Air.. harder. Taria stumbled back and cut the weave. "Die, Lightfriend! Die with all your blasted Light-loving friends!" Taria was, for lack of a better word, pissed. She unsheathed her alternate dagger and.. CLANG. The two counterparts locked daggers.. Match to Match. Stealth to Stealth. Taria was every bit as good as Talia. How was she to win this fight? Talia was about to try another sideswipe as there was a loud TAP sound and the building shook with a mighty force. Talia gasped.. a moment's distraction caused Taria to have the advantage. She tackled Talia.. but Talia used her momentum to throw her double a few feet over. Talia followed this move with a quick tossing of her last dagger.. straight into her duplicate's gut. (~Lucky me..~) Taria followed that with a kick to the face. (~Dead or not..~) Talia looked at the shaking building.. (~..this building could be the death of both of us..~) The building seemed unstable.. it shook still, even if the cause had only lasted a moment. Talia couldn't shake the feeling that this was bad. Really bad. Talia started to move.. but she paused long enough to grab the fallen double's Ter'Angreal. She, then, ran until she could see an out. Dashing through the window of perhaps the second floor, Talia attempted to soften her landing with Air.. she was somewhat successful.. but she couldn't help but wonder.. (~Where is Xyranthes?~) as her world suddenly went black. ___________________________ Hehe.. looks like I quoted someone in this one.. *G* Yeah, copycat.. It's just such a neat game, Peter. Perhaps someone will find the movie quote in my RP.. clue? you want a clue? okay okay.. Sci-fi movie. ^_^ Have fun.
T aka
Talia Daimar
<><

 Myiona gasped as her double stepped out of the darkness. She was wrapped in a black cloak that almost seemed to pulsate with evil, or perhaps that was the woman herself. There was a hardness in her eyes that was frightening. She almost laughed at the woman's mistake, believing Mera'shar was Mura'shar. When Mera'shar hit her double, Myiona ducked away and then crawled back as the battle began in earnest. She knelt before her double who was having trouble breathing. Quickly, she delved her and then said, "You will die unless I heal you. I will if you will aid me in free Mura'shar. Then, you can have the inferior one. Together we can break him enough that you can use him for whatever purpose you choose. I do not want to watch myself die, so choose quickly." "I swear by my oath to the Lord of the Dark," the woman answered. "I need one of them and breaking Mera'shar has a sweet ring to it. Heal me, please. I do not want to die, to fail, and face his wrath." Myiona healed her double and then took a few moments to catch her breath. When she stood, her double handed her a ter'angreal to aid in channeling and then they both stood ready. The two men were locked together in battle, too close for Myiona to determine which was her Mura'shar. The black robed version of herself did not hesitate but immediately embraced the source and began building an impressive whirlwind. She allowed it to build and grow overhead until it the men hesitated for a split second and then attacked. As the winds lowered to engulf the fighters, they were thrown in opposite directions. ~~~~
Vicky
aka Myiona 1 and Myiona 2
Sorry Jake I wanted to jump into the fight scene somewhat.

 Darran looked up - a fight a few blocks over. Saidin, saidar. {{Might as well take a look}} Two leaps later, he was there. Sure enough, there they were - many people. Both Myionas, both Mera'shars, Lu'rece or her counterpart... and was that another person in the shadows? Darran dropped to the ground. Once he had landed he shifted his Power-strength and speed from just his legs to all over his body. As he draw his swords, he considered. {{What to do? Well, I can safely kill Myiona, since if I kill the wrong one that won't be a tragedy in the least.}} ****

 Alcinia looked at Aramis after Myiona's counterpart left the tent. "What do you think we should do now?" she asked. "We are supposed to explore the camp," he said looking around. "I think we should go ahead and do it while we have a chance. Maybe using Myiona's name will give us some protection." "I hope so," she said, "but I think that we should try to stay hidden as much as possible. Something isn't right here. I think they must be all working against each other. I don't want to get caught in the middle of their games."

 Clutching the note from Xyranthes in her hand, La'rece watched as both Myionas and both Mura'shars unleashed unfathomable weaves. One of the women was channeling huge cables of air creating a cyclone that threatened to destroy everyone and everything within fifty paces. The Dragonsworn hoped it was the real Myiona controlling the storm rather than the Other, a woman who most likely served the Dark One. La'rece was just able to make out the real Myiona through the dust-filled air, however the roar of the storm prohibited the Arafellan from shouting to the First. Gesturing to Talia, who had appeared at her side just moments before bearing news of Xyranthes, La'rece began to move forward in hopes of lending aid to both Myiona and Mura'shar. *Shadowrider take me! This must come to an end ... if we don't destroy this Tower, we must surely perish!* A tug on her leg made La'rece turn around. Talia was gesturing toward a large section of wall that would allow them to approach from a protected angle. The only risk would be that they would be fully exposed for a brief instant. Hopefully, the Others would be so occupied fighting their Black Tower counterparts, they would not stop to attack in the seconds it would take the two women to gain the protective cover the wall afforded. Shouting to be heard, La'rece said to Talia, "Alright, let's go. If you see an opportunity to help Myiona, go for it, but be careful!" Talia didn't need to ask what La'rece meant. With two Myionas and two Mura'shars it would be all too easy to strike out at the wrong one. With a nod Talia said, "Right. Let's go." The two women moved into the storm. ****** Lu'rece smiled as Sneed explained his plan. The man was fascinating. Intriguing. Delectable. So, he wanted her to ally herself with him, did he? Well, she would see how this played out. Myiona's plans had become all too unstable. The woman had become all too obsessed with Mera'shar. Obsessed to the point of distraction. Perhaps it WAS time to change banners; secretly, at least. Watching the man Sneed, Lu'rece smiled thinking how satisfying the next few hours would be ...
Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 Mura'shar felt himself weakening as he struggled with his counterpart How can this be? I'm using an angreal. He must have one as well!. Suddenly, an unseen force tore them away from each other, slamming then against opposite walls, stunning them. When Mura'shar got his breath back, he saw the dark-robed Myiona staring at both of them. Her face was a bloody mask, but otherwise appeared unhurt. Mera'shar was staring at her as well, keeping one eye on Mura'shar as well. The other Myiona was nowhere to be seen, though there was no shortage of places to hide. In fact, Mura'shar thought he saw several shadows flitting about. Had reinforcements arrived? For which tower? __________________________ Mera'shar shook off the explosion of stars as he got to his feet. That trull Myiona attacked him! Hey looked as his weakling counterpart glanced uncertainly about him. Though he wasn't really weak. He must have an angreal of his own to hold out against him so long. What was going on here? For a long moment, the two Asha'man stared uncertainly at each other and at Myiona. Maybe one could beat the other if Myiona stayed out of it, but neither knew which side she'd take if she did get involved. Mera'shar did not like uncertainties. He suspected the other didn't like them either. What they had now was a standoff... The decision on who to attack was decided for him when someone dropped on him, and the burning sensation began. ____________________________________ Mura'shar saw a figure up on the wall Mera'shar was slammed against. He recognized the figure as Naden. When she was directly above Mera'shar, she spread her arms wide and dropped down onto him, dragging him to the ground. She began smacking him with her open palms. Wherever she struck, green flame burst from Mera'shar. He screamed, rolling over, trying to put the flames out, trying to knock Naden from him. Flames burst from Mera'shar. Normal colored flames that did not touch him. Naden screamed and flew off him. She struck the wall and slumped to the ground. Mura'shar realized he was just standing there, gaping at the spectacle. Someone touched his shoulder. It was Myiona. The real one, not the evil duplicate of her. "We must link now" she said "He will never be weaker". Mura'shar agreed. He seized the source again as Myiona embraced saidar. As they linked, Mura'shar drew on his angreal as well, enhancing his weaves. La'rece and Talia appeared from the shadows. They saw what Myiona and Mura'shar intended and lent their aid against Mera'shar The burned Darkfriend was just getting to his feet when they all struck at once. A wave of air pinned him to the wall as a shield cut him off from saidin. Mura'shar stalked towards him and drew something from his pocket. First he put a gag in the other's mouth so quiet him. The golden bondcutter glittered as Mura'shar tore open Mera'shar's shirt. The tiny wound from when he first used it had scabbed over. Mura'shar reopened it and channeled. Myiona gasped as Mera'shar's presence left her mind. The tiny blade sparkled green and white and Mura'shar pricked his own chest and laughed as his bonds with Myiona were restored. Mera'shar glared at him in absolute hatred, and Mura'shar's mood sobered. Mura'shar channeled, and a glowing blue blade of Air appeared in his fist. With the bond restored, he was free to kill this Darkfriend without hurting Myiona. Mera'shar's expression changed to horror as he saw his intentions. Myiona put a restraining hand on him "Don't" she whispered "I promised to let him live" Mera'shar brightened for a moment at that. He probably thought escape was possible after all. The others just stared at her. "I promised him to her" Myiona continued and pointed a at the black-clad Myiona who had so far remained silent. La'rece and Talia kept casting suspicious glances at her, but she made no threatening moves. She just kept staring at Mera'shar with a faint smile that promised much enjoyment in the future. For her anyway. Mera'shar's eyes bulged as he struggled violently against his restraints. Myiona laughed an unpleasant laugh at this. Mura'shar couldn't help smiling himself. It was a fitting punishment. A soft groan drew everyone's eyes to the second figure. Naden was badly burned, but was somehow still alive. "M...Mura'shar?" she whispered. Mura'shar rushed to her and bent down. We stopped him, Naden" he whispered" He's not dead, but I'm sure he will wish he was before long" Naden smiled and closed her eyes. He breathing was ragged. A quick Delving revealed the extent of her wounds. They were bad. She would die soon without help. More help than Mura'shar could provide. He turned to Myiona and the others "Help her, please" he begged. "Without her, I never would have escaped!"
Jake
Marked Asha'man

 Tareena watched Luthar fade into the shadows with a sense of loss and unease. She trusted him, possibly more than anyone else besides her bondmate. She was glad to separate herself from Aramis and Alcina, however. She could no longer tolerate the overt suspicion of Alcina and it was painful to look at Aramis. His questioning of her brought back painful memories of her time as a damane, memories she would just as soon forget. It had taken all of her courage to stop him from killing himself. Somewhere in her depth, she had wanted him to die, for killing the damane as he had. Yet, she knew that you had to come to terms with your hatred, or it ate you alive. She had done it with her Seanchan tormentors, as he had. Waiting for the others to join them took more patience than she was willing to muster. Ordering the two novitiates to stay in the room and under no circumstances to leave until they were met by the other members upon Luthar's return, she set out to continue looking for Stevan and Myiona. Carefully slinking from shadow to shadow, she drew herself up short and barely muffled a gasp. Her bond, it was different. A flood of joy cascaded through her body. Darren was here! She felt his presence envelope her. Tareena could almost feel his calm security steel into her. She wanted, nay needed, to look into his eyes and touch him. Tossing good sense out the window, she turned and headed the complete opposite direction from where she was headed. He was here and she needed to find him.
OOC::: Okay, lame I know but for whatever reason, I am having trouble finding a direction with this one. What say bondmate, help me out here will ya? ::grins::

 Myiona stepped toward the body of the restrained Mera'shar with a look of anticipation upon her face. "I have won this round, my pretty," she said touching his face lightly. Then she channeled, bonding the man and implanting precautionary compulsions in his mind. "Now," she said lightly drawing a finger down his face, "you are mine. I promise that it will not all be pain. I would have rather had the other, because he would have been easier to tame, but maybe it is better this way. The challenge in itself will prove interesting." "Do not think of escape or hurting them," she said looking toward their counterparts, "we have better things to do, and I did make a bargain. If you attempt to channel without my permission, I have a pretty little collar for you that I found upon another world." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Myiona watched with jealousy as Mura'shar knelt by the burned woman. She could not believe at this moment, when they had been returned to each other, that he would seek the company of another. "Help her, please" he begged. "Without her, I never would have escaped!" "I suppose I owe her something," Myiona replied as she slowly walked over. She delved the woman and began the healing weaves. It was going to be difficult, and perhaps even beyond her ability to heal. Suddenly, Naden's body convulsed and then was still. Myiona looked toward her counterpart who was wearing a small smile. "She betrayed me," the dark clad woman said, "and I cannot stand one who breaks faith. You should be glad of that for it is all that keeps you alive. I am leaving now and taking my prize with me." A gateway opened behind them and the two Darkfriends stepped into it. Both looked back toward their counterparts with a look of regret, but Myiona had a look of anticipation and excitement upon her face as well.

 Alan wiped his brow. Looking down at his hands he was chagrined at the rivulets of sweat that ran through the caked dust. By the Creator the Waste was a nasty place. Glancing around, Alan saw the towers of Rhuiden in the distance. He did not want to abandon his brothers and sisters, but something was compelling him to move on. A swirl of the pattern had caught him up and he was like a leaf in a fast moving river, not sure where he was going, but moving quickly none the less. In the back of his mind he could feel Talia. Could feel her anger and pain. Silently asking her for forgiveness he trudged on. Alan must find a way back to the real world. Must go where he was needed. Mounting his horse, Alan gently patted the stallions nose...and whispered in his ear. Smiling at the snort he got in return, Alan gently nudged the horse's ribs and started on his journey. Walking his horse into the sunlight, Alan couldnt help but think of lost comrades.....Mingar Blightsbane, who died in vengence for his bondmate Mendi Sedai. Tor the Shaido, perhaps the most vailent man that ever blessed this world. Chemosh, the harshest most dislikable creature in the tower, but a friend still. Legolas, the cunning killer who commanded us for so long. Ivan, a father figure and best friend. As Alan guided his horse towards the sun, a single tear ran down his face unnoticed. Mourning for those gone, mourning for those about to leave, and mourning for himself. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Its been a blast....see ya on the flip side keep it real
Joe

 Myiona seemed reluctant to help Naden at first. But once she knelt down and examined the injuries, she began t concentrate in earnest. Mura'shar was concentrated on the two when La'rece gasped. Naden began jerking, then lay still. Andrai whispered "She just, just killed her!" Mura'shar spun around and seized sadin. The other, black clad Myiona had finished examining her prize. She gave them all a smile "She betrayed me, and I cannot stand one who breaks faith. You should be glad of that for it is all that keeps you alive. I am leaving now and taking my prize with me." With that she opened a gateway and was gone. She wanted to get to work on her new toy right away Mura'shar wanted to Travel back and kill them. Kill them both. But that would be foolhardy. He'd only die himself in the process. Mura'shar looked sadly at the corpse on the ground. "I'm sorry" he whispered. He sat on the ground and began to weave. Earth was not his strongest Power, but he still had some ability in it. e delved into the ground and began loosening and raising dirt, pushing it off to one side. The others stared at him for a moment before one dared to ask what he was doing "Did you know this...person?" La'rece asked him "She's clearly Aes Sedai but if she was one of the Others, then isn't she.."she couldn't quite say it "Black Ajah" "No she isn't" Mura'shar muttered while concentrating" She was Naden Aes Sedai of the Red Ajah" while waiting, they were able to exchange a little of their histories. She seemed eager to meet a Black Tower actually devoted to defeating the Dark One "She was captured, brutalized and humiliated by my counterpart, Mera'shar. She helped me escape, and I promised to get her out too. I was supposed to protect her. Instead she died protecting me. She deserved better" Mura'shar's voice started cracking at the last part. He only knew her for a few days, but she was incredibly brave, given the horrors she'd suffered He'd killed before, he'd seen others die often, but he didn't think he had met anyone who deserved to live more than her. He had scooped out a hole large enough to fit Naden's body. La'rece and Naden arranged her limbs in a more dignified way while Myiona stood next to Mura'shar. She seemed quiet and serious and a bit distant. Before they lowered the body in, Mura'shar drew out the bondcutter and channeled. A wave of Air held it up while strands of Fire melted it. It was a bit dangerous, but Mura'shar thought it was worth it. This ter'angreal was a filthy thing and the world was better off without it. The golden knife melted and reshaped. Mura'shar concentrated, splitting his weave thinner and thinner. When he was done, he noted it was a crude piece of work. Any goldsmith would probably laugh at it. But the shape was recognizable, and he supposed it would do. He took Naden's left hand and slipped the ring he had made on it. It was of a golden serpent biting it's own table. "Good-bye Naden. You died free, at least. They lowered her body into the grave. They filled it in and placed a piece of fallen masonry as a marker. Mura'shar put an arm around Myiona "She died helpless, Myiona. She couldn't defend herself, and SHE simply killed her for no other reason than she could. Is there a worse thing a person could do to another?" Myiona stiffened in his arm but said nothing. As they headed back to camp, Mura'shar told them about his time with the other Black Tower, reporting everything he overheard, observed, or guessed. They in turn told him what happened in the camp. He thought Myiona was holding something back, but he had other things to digest at the moment. _________________________________________________ Mera'shar hid a smile as they went through the gateway. He had been dealt a humiliating defeat, one he would not soon recover. But he was not beaten yet. Oh, no. He had a few other trinkets lying around, and friends who depended on him for their survival. And most of all, nobody found his equalizer. It wasn't enough against Myiona and those fools from the other Black Tower. But here the hidden angreal might just be enough to cut Myiona's ultimate victory short. No, he will be back to even the score...perhaps Myiona would be interested in a partnership? Mera'shar's silver sword pin glittered.
Jake
Marked Asha'man

 "Something isn't right here. I think they must be all working against each other. I don't want to get caught in the middle of their games." Aramis couldn't agree more. This Tower seemed awash in back-stabbing politics and self-centered scheming. But Aramis did not want to be stuck in Evil Myiona's tent while the rest of the Storm Team fought a battle. Yet something held him back. He grinned. "Since we're here..." He turned to Myiona's nearest bag and emptied the contents onto the floor. Alcinia chuckled and began fliespping through a folder of documents. The contents of the bag were largely useless. Aramis did, however, find a small flask of brandy. It smelled like brandy, anyway. But knowing these people, he didn't quite feel comfortable drinking it. He poured it onto the floor. "Listen to this," Alcinia said, reading from one of the documents," 'My dress arrived from the tailor this morning. It was the wrong color. Have Arwin flogged immediately.'" She shook her head. "Can you imagine living in a place like--" She cut off as a Soldier opened the flap and came in. He stopped when he saw them. He looked a little shocked to see an Asha'man and Dragonsworn rifling through Myiona's belongings. Aramis grabbed onto Saidin but before he could do channel a knife blossomed in the guy's throat. He sank to the ground gurgling, then died. He turned to see his bondmate holding one knife in her hand and retrieving another from her sleeve. "Nice job," he said to her. She returned his smile and gestured at the body. "What should we do with that?" "Leave it. It fits the mood of this place." Further comment was cut off as explosions reverberated through the streets. Aramis barreled out of the tent followed closely by Alcinia. He shook his head. "We have to find our Storm Team." He started off towards the ruined tower. Alcinia grabbed his hand. "This way, Asha'man." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Something isn't right here. I think they must be all working against each other. I don't want to get caught in the middle of their games." Aramis couldn't agree more. This Tower seemed awash in back-stabbing politics and self-centered scheming. But Aramis did not want to be stuck in Evil Myiona's tent while the rest of the Storm Team fought a battle. Yet something held him back. He grinned. "Since we're here..." He turned to Myiona's nearest bag and emptied the contents onto the floor. Alcinia chuckled and began fliespping through a folder of documents. The contents of the bag were largely useless. Aramis did, however, find a small flask of brandy. It smelled like brandy, anyway. But knowing these people, he didn't quite feel comfortable drinking it. He poured it onto the floor. "Listen to this," Alcinia said, reading from one of the documents," 'My dress arrived from the tailor this morning. It was the wrong color. Have Arwin flogged immediately.'" She shook her head. "Can you imagine living in a place like--" She cut off as a Soldier opened the flap and came in. He stopped when he saw them. He looked a little shocked to see an Asha'man and Dragonsworn rifling through Myiona's belongings. Aramis grabbed onto Saidin but before he could do channel a knife blossomed in the guy's throat. He sank to the ground gurgling, then died. He turned to see his bondmate holding one knife in her hand and retrieving another from her sleeve. "Nice job," he said to her. She returned his smile and gestured at the body. "What should we do with that?" "Leave it. It fits the mood of this place." Further comment was cut off as explosions reverberated through the streets. Aramis barreled out of the tent followed closely by Alcinia. He shook his head. "We have to find our Storm Team." He started off towards the ruined tower. Alcinia grabbed his hand. "This way, Asha'man." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Something wasn't right. Myiona knew it almost instantly. Instead of being cowed and defeated, Mera'shar was planning something. She did not have time to deal with him properly, but soon he would be brought into line. The gateway opened at a dismal, empty place. "Welcome," Myiona said, "to the pit of doom. Here we will swear to serve the Great Lord of the Dark in this world. He hungers for followers and we will be the first. Think of the power we will have Mera'shar." She was briefly distracted by a movement out of the corner of her eye, but she did not see anything when she turned. Knowing the reputation of the place on her world, she counted it as nothing. "Will you join me willingly, Mera'shar?" she asked looking up into his eyes. **************** Myiona was jealous. Mura'shar's main concern since seeing her was this Naden. He had hardly even looked at the Domani. He put his arm around her and spoke further of that woman. She knew he felt bad about the death, but wasn't he even a little bit happy to be back with his bondmate again? She pushed the feelings aside as they discussed the things going on in the Black Tower. Myiona did not tell him immediately about the two men she had killed because she needed to speak with him in private about it. She was afraid he would side with Tareena and leave her all alone again. An explosion from somewhere ahead caused them all to go running in that direction. Myiona wondered if it was a battle between the two towers or something else happening. As they rounded a corner, she gasped at the large hole in the ground. "What could have happened here to cause such a huge hole?" she asked looking up at Mura'shar.
Vicky
aka Myiona

 Sneed looked down from the rooftop of a nearby building at the ruins of his dreams. Slag and bits of stone and masonry from Zeranthes tower littered the streets. Small sections of road had collapsed into chasms, making travel by foot difficult, if not impossible in some places. "Gone, there all gone. Damn him, damn him to the pit and back. I have nothing." Spit flew from Sneed's hate twisted mouth. Eyes burning, he grips the stone railing of the window, knuckles white with rage. Stone cracks and splinters, and red rivulets of blood run down from the rail. "I will have my victory, if I have to kill every light loving one of them. " Slowly the Darkfriend turned, and looked at Lu'rece. "Your fault, if you hadn't interfered, none of this would have happened. I will forgive this incident, but I will not be as lenient the next time." Turning, the former Dedicated walked toward the door leading from the room. ************************** Far below, huddled in an old worn blanket, a small man shudders in the cold. Nearby a fire burns down. Footsteps echo in the small cavern, robes brushing the dusty floor. "Hello there." "Hello." The reply is soft, quiet. The old gray haired head turns to the visitor. Just a man, of indiscriminate age. He might be 30, he might be 60, the face had an ageless quality to it. "Who are you?" the small man asks the visitor. "Who are you?" The reply is strong, but not hostile. "How did I get here?" "The same way everyone else does, I suppose, you where born." "What am I doing here?" "Ah," the visitor replies, "that, is the question." (OOC) OK Laura, it is time for an end. : )
Peter
<><

 Ariana was quite lost, but she didn't care at the moment.  She would
find her
double, and deal with her.  When she actually did find the woman,
however,
she nearly jumped a foot in the air.  Without warning a mirror image of
herself simply strolled out of a building and stood before her.  "You
were
looking for me?"  The voice was cool, disinterested.  Then it changed,
as the
two studied each other.  "You're crippled?  How did that happen?"  The
Healer
bristled at the disgust in the other's voice.
*****
For her part, Oriana was merely shocked.  How could her reflection
be...
imperfect?  Though she knew it was riddiculous, she felt insulted, as
though
having a flawed reflection was somehow connected to her.  But at least
she
could correct this mistake easily- the cripple would be at a distinct
disadvantage if she decided to make this confrontation physical.
*****
Ariana found her voice, and guessed what would infuriate her other self
most.
 "We are each other," she smiled grimly, "and though I'm crippled on
the
outside, your twisting is on the inside."  The other's face went red
with
anger- and she threw herself at Ariana, a blade leading the way.  A
blade?
the Healer had time to wonder, before she had to dodge.  I don't use a
blade.
Then, as she wrenched her body out of the way, I wonder what else is
different.  That thought made her uneasy.  Still, she pulled her staff
out,
hoping the sword wouldn't shatter it.  The wood was sturdy, but she
wasn't
sure if it could hold up to solid steel swung with the force of hatred.
One
way to find out.  She blocked her alter ego's next blow, and noted with
a
sigh of relief that the blade was unornamented.  So at least she's not
a
blademaster.  Still, she was very angry, and seemed quite determined to
stick
that sword through Ariana.
*****
Oriana slashed and hacked at the crippled version of herself, letting
her
anger speed her strikes.  How dare this naive upstart insult her... Her
conscience, buried so deeply that she rarely if ever heard from it, was
asserting that the little twit was right, which made her even angrier.
She
smiled nastily as she noticed Ariana slowing as she swung that odd
stick.
Once she was rid of this obnoxious little novice, her conscience would
shut
up, and she would prove herself in the right.  Still, the girl was
holding
out better than Oriana had expected.  Perhaps it was time to add
channelling
to this contest... A wizened tree burst into flame, and caught the edge
of
Ariana's skirt; a thought and small weave from the Healer snuffed it
out.
*****
Oh, I hope she doesn't have an angreal!  The Healer dodged another blow
and
put out the fire that had attached to her skirts.  She wondered for a
moment
how best to counter.  Nothing obvious, or her double would probably
avoid it-
she seemed to have a lot of experience with the obvious and
heavy-handed
tricks, Ariana noticed as large boulders began exploding.  She thought,
and
finally remembered something from her first days in the Tower. She
began
setting white fires around herself, that followed her movements.  Then
she
began trying to back her double toward another tree, hoping fervently
all the
while that Oriana would jump to the obvious conclusion- that there was
a trap
waiting there.  She smiled as Oriana was driven, slowly, toward her
goal; the
woman kept glancing over her shoulder to judge the distance she had
left.
Perfect.  A tiny weave, almost unnoticeable until one was right on top
of it-
and Oriana sprawled in the dust, tripped.  Ariana laughed grimly.  Her
other
self didn't take sitting in the dirt very well, but the Healer gave her
no
time to protest, wrapping her in bonds of Air thick as ships' cables.
Only
when she was secure did she stop, wondering what to do.  Despite
everything,
she didn't want to kill her; that was altogether like what Oriana would
do,
and went against everything she felt as a Healer.  "I don't want to
kill
you," she said, watching for a reaction.  Her double sneered, but
Ariana
sensed underlying fear.  "However, what else am I to do?"  There was no
reply.
*****
Oriana blinked, not sure she'd heard right.  The woman didn't want to
kill
her?  After she'd insulted and attacked her?  Was she simple in the
head as
well as crippled?  However, caution dictated that she keep such
opinions to
herself when she was at the mercy of her attacker, and besides, this
weakness
might just result in her keeping her life.  Then she looked at her
reflection's face- and all the world went dark.  She just barely saw
the blur
of Ariana's staff before the lights went out.  When she came to, there
was no
one.  A set of limping tracks led off through the dust.  Oriana
realized she
was no longer bound.  Grinning despite a massive headache, she leapt to
her
feet, and noticed something else- a waterskin laying in the shadow of a
rock
fragment beside her.  Her double, it seemed, was indeed soft.  Oriana
grabbed
the water and drank, then looked around.  There was no sign of her own
Tower-
something she did not lament, truth be told.  Oriana sat down to think.
There was virtually nothing she couldn't do, now.  She burned for
vengeance
against the one who'd dropped her in the dust; perhaps she should
follow
those tracks. Then she realized something else- she didn't know how to
work a
portal stone.  She screamed in frustration.  That meant she was stuck
on this
world, this nowhere world, and couldn't go home- or even follow her
double.
The nasty little Light-blinded fool had left her here, stranded and
alone in
the ruins of Rhuidean!  Oriana kicked a piece of rock angrily.  She
would
have to find her own Tower if she wanted out of here.  Growling quietly
to
herself, she started walking.

Hee, this quite long RP is in honor of my new computer; i got it for
graduation and have just set it up.  I love it, it's wonderful!  And
since i
needed to wrap up Ari, i thought what better way to celebrate the new
comp
than with a nice long RP?  Hope it's not too long or confusing....
~Erin/Ariana

 La'rece hesitated a moment before continuing. The scene in front of her was drawing to a climax. The wind had subsided and now the two Myiona's spoke to each other. La'rece could see a young woman lying wounded near the group.. Turning to tell Talia to stay close, La'rece stopped. The young Dragonsworn was gone. To where? Looking about the immediate area, La'rece found no sign of the girl. Then movement across the way caught the Arafellan's eye. A woman, not Talia, was walking away seemingly unconcerned about the chaos that had been unleashed by the battling Towers. Suddenly, the woman stopped, turned, and smiled at La'rece. A strong sense of d??vu swept over the Arafellan. The woman raised her hand in a wave to La'rece and bright light reflecting off of some part of the mysterious woman's apparel or jewelry temporarily made it impossible for the Arafellan to see her. When the flash of light faded, the woman was gone. La'rece almost stood up, revealing her position when another woman appeared very near where the mysterious woman had dissappeared. The new woman stopped to examine the scene, peeking around a wall that hid her from the eyes of the quarreling group. However, La'rece could see her. And recognized the woman. Brendina Collon. A member of the Black Ajah. The Black Sister carefully pulled back from her hiding place and continued down a side street heading in the direction of the explosion that had rocked the entire city. Almost as if drawn by forces beyond her control, La'rece followed the woman, being careful to avoid detection. With her years of hunting the Black Ajah and numerous fights along the Blight, stalking this arrogant darkfriend was a walk in the park. Still, years of training kept the Arafellan cautious and guarded as the Black Sister led her to the entrance to a crumbling building. ****** Brendina's plans had quickly changed. Such was the nature of battle and she was most certainly engaged in a battle. A quest for power. And favor with the Great Lord. It was annoying having to constantly deal with the interference of others in fulfilling her ambition. She would be named one of the new Chosen and would like the other Chosen who still survived one day rule the world. Brendina could almost taste the power that such accomplishment provided. But there were obstacles. One was Myiona who it appeared might well be removed from the equation. The other was Lu'rece. She knew where to find Lu'rece ?in general. She had followed her to Zeranthes' lair not an hour earlier. She could not be far. Killing Lu'rece would provide her with much satisfaction. Once Lu'rece was safely disposed of, Brendina would make sure that the threat provided by Myiona was quelled as well. Pausing to listen on the bottom step of a crumbling building, Brendina Collon ascended the staircase. ****** Lu'rece was furious. Internally. Outwardly, however, her she was a picture of serenity. Whoever this man Sneed was, she would see him dead before she let him try to cow her. Suddenly, an idea came to her. The statuesque darkfriend could barely suppress a smile at the bright glittering jewel of an idea. Lu'rece had for years been a Dreamer, often entering Tel'aran'rhiod to do the work of the Black Ajah and the Chosen. A small scar on her upper arm served as a constant reminder of the dangers that lurked in the dreamworld. It had been on an excursion into Tel'aran'rhiod as a novice that had changed her life forever. There in the hidden world the young novice had been caught by a man dressed in blood red, his face hidden in the deep cowl of his cloak and taken to a room where the girl found herself surrounded by thirteen Myrdraal and thirteen men and women. Lu'rece shuddered involuntarily as she recalled being turned to the Shadow. The Black Sister had learned many tricks over the years in her travels in Tel'aran'rhiod and knew just what she would do to Sneed? ****** Brendina could hear voices above her as she continued to climb the staircase leading up. Lu'rece's voice and that of an unknown man. The Black Sister found it interesting that she had not yet heard Zaranthes' voice. Perhaps he was gone. Just as well. She would be able to kill Lu'rece and the man before either the woman or the man knew she was there and then she could go and see to Myiona. Peering around the corner, Brendina watched as Lu'rece and the strange man conferred. Perhaps the man was part of one of Lu'rece's schemes. It would make it that much more satisfying to kill him as well. Brendina smiled as she prepared to channel. Suddenly, her smile froze and her eyes widened. Blood trickled from her mouth as she turned around, a necklace of blood blossoming at her throat. La'rece stared cold hatred at the woman who died before her The Dragonsworn wiped the bloody knife on the sleeve of the woman's dress. Catching the body as it collapsed, La'rece moved it out of sight and then peered around the corner to see who was in the next room. *Two for the price of one, it seems* the Arafellan thought as she watched her twin confer with Sneed, or his twin. ****** "?have a plan and a way to approach the intrepid Tower without being discovered" Lu'rece was telling Sneed that using Tel'aran'rhiod, the two of them could wreak havoc on the other tower. Listening intently, Sneed tried to discern any traps in what the woman was suggesting. It sounded plausible, however ? "How?" he asked simply. Smiling, Lu'rece took a small ring from her finger and slipped it onto his pinky, it was snug, but it fit. For her part, Lu'rece had long ago discovered how to enter the world of dreams without use of an angreal, but carried the device on the off chance that she might need it. Clearly, the proof was in the pudding after all. The length of their conversation had been enough time for Lu'rece to acquaint herself thoroughly with the room, a requirement for entering Tel'aran'rhiod without an angreal. Channeling a thread of spirit into the ring on Sneed's hand and tying it off, the Black Sister smiled as the man collapsed, seemingly sound asleep. What she had planned would not take long and she would return before the weave dissipated thus releasing the man from Tel'aran'rhiod.. Channeling again, Lu'rece created, in essence, a doorway into an exact copy of the room she was standing in and stepped through ? ****** La'rece watched flabbergasted. She knew of Tel'aran'rhiod though she herself had never ventured there. It was known that certain members of the Rebel Tower entered the world of dreams in aid of the Dragon Reborn. And it was believed that the Forsaken and those Aes Sedai who followed the Dark One were likely also using the dreamworld for sinister purposes. Carefully observing the Other's weaves, La'rece watched as the woman stepped through the invisible portal into Tel'aran'rhiod. Quickly seizing Saidar, La'rece channeled a light bending weave that rendered her virtually invisible as well. She could feel the gateway was still open and did not want to give her counterpart any advance warning ? OOC: Peter, feel free to pick up on this and add on, otherwise, I will finish later tonight or tomorrow. :)
Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 "So ?what does your brilliant plan entail, Lu'rece?" Sneed asked, his voice dripping with doubt and sarcasm. The Black Sister's brittle smile should have given the man pause, but he was to enamored of his own power. Gesturing for Sneed to draw closer, Lu'rece prepared a complex weave of spirit touched with water and air. The softest touch of fire completed her preparation. Laying her hand on the man's bare arm, Lu'rece channeled. Sneed almost seemed to rise up off the ground as the weaves swept over him. It was an attack he had not expected. As the weaves fell into place, the Black Sister began to speak? "Compulsion is a powerful weapon, my friend. It is tenfold stronger here" she said gesturing around them. "Here you will be a horse. My horse." Sneed tried to scream but was unable as he felt the very bones in his body change and he morphed into a chestnut stallion. Lu'rece watched as the evolution continued, her head cocked to one side. "I do not think you will need to worry overmuch about getting free, Sneed. I have tied off the weaves ?rather intricately, inverted them, and set a lovely trap for the unsuspecting fool who might figure out who and what you are and attempt to free you. Each time I return, I will come looking for you. Be ready for me, worm!" The Black Sister's laughter was cruel and delighted. Sneed's mind was on the verge of snapping. How could he possible survive. He turned his head to look in the direction they had entered from ?perhaps if he could somehow get back through the portal ? Sneed reared, braying as he saw his real body being floated into Tel'aran'rhiod. The Black Sister was doing something to him, his human body. But he could not imagine what ? Lu'rece concentrated very carefully as she improvised. Using just about every power, the darkfriend placed Sneed's body in a state of suspended animation. Trapped in such a fashion, he would spend the rest of his life as a horse in the world of dreams, unable to ask for help should any even find their way to where he was ?additionally, the fool was unaware of the dangers that infested Tel'aran'rhiod. It was entirely possible he would be dead within a fortnight ?or sooner, killed by some walking nightmare let loose. It was time to go back now that the irksome Sneed had been properly dealt with. Lu'rece walked through the portal allowing it to close behind her. Heading toward the stairs down, the darkfriend slowed her step. Something felt ?she was not alone. There was another woman present. One who could channel. You could not stand so close and not be aware of it. More intriguing was the sense that whoever the woman was, she was as strong in the One Power as Lu'rece. Trying to act casual, the darkfriend began to descend the stairs. ****** La'rece had stayed hidden from her counterpart. After watching what the woman did to Sneed, she did not think that it would be prudent to find herself imprisoned in Tel'aran'rhiod. Releasing the weave that kept her hidden, La'rece proceeded to follow her counterpart down the stairway. It was safe to assume that if the woman was near as skilled in tracking and stalking as herself, then she would know that La'rece was near about. That meant that the woman would attempt an ambush. Stopping at an opening in the wall that looked down toward the ground, La'rece had an idea. Opening up a gateway into blackness, La'rece stepped onto a small platform. It appeared to be a granite porch with a bench and two chairs. A memory from her childhood. As soon as the Dragonsworn stepped onto the porch it began to move forward ?less than an arm's length and stopped Opening up another gateway, La'rece stepped out into an alleyway just across from the building where she had found her counterpart and Sneed. She would wait for her Other to come out and then ? ****** Lu'rece hurried down the stairs being careful to avoid making noise. She would wait for whoever it was behind her to come out of the building and then she would strike. The darkfriend had no intention of letting the other person live. Seeing a small alley across the way, the Black Sister headed toward it intending to lie in wait for the unsuspecting fool. ****** In the alley, La'rece stood looking at the woman who had just entered. It was ?herself. The woman likewise stood staring straight at La'rece. Each caught off guard, not expecting the other to be there. But a moment was all it lasted, the two women engaged in an all out battle trying to kill or sever the other from the One Power. The struggle lasted for only a few short minutes, but to La'rece it felt like an eternity. Unable to gain the upper hand using Saidar, the Dragonsworn reached for her sword. With a sudden backward sweep of her arm, La'rece Barata'gan watched as her opponent's head rolled away leaving the body to collapse on the dusty street. A shudder ran through La'rece as she gazed into the already glazed eyes of ?herself. No. Not herself. Merely a darker copy. ****** La'rece headed back down the debris strewn streets, back to where she had left Myiona and Mura'shar facing their own counterparts. Hopefully, all was well ? OOC: I hope this wasn't too ... well, just too!
Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 Aramis looked at his bondmate, then around the doorframe at the couple standing just a few meters away. It was Mura'shar and Myiona from the looks of it, but one could never be sure in this place. "Should we risk it?" he asked Alcinia. She just shrugged. The unease that Aramis felt through the bond showed on her face as well. He glanced back around the doorway. "We'll show ourselves. Myiona's double will be expecting us back at her tent, so she should be angry when we're not." The logic wasn't very sound, but he was tired of being alone and jumpy. "Be ready for anything." They stepped out of the doorway and onto the street. Aramis siezed Saidin and stood waiting. Mura'shar looked over his shoulder. He whipped around when he saw Aramis and Alcinia standing behind him and Myiona. Aramis' arms pebbled up, and he knew that Alcinia, and also Myiona, and embraced the Source. For a tense moment four battle- hardened channelers stood ready to do violence. Aramis released the Source. It seemed the only way to end the potential threat. "Mura'shar? Myiona?" Both nodded, with wary looks. "Have you seen Stevan?" Mura'shar and Myiona looked at each other. "Can we trust you?" asked Mura'shar. "Can we trust you?" Alcinia asked him. Mura'shar looked at her for a moment. "By the Light and my hope of salvation and rebirth we are who we say we are. Mura'shar and Myiona of the Black Tower." Alcinia nodded. "Where are we going now?" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ooc: Jake, Vicky if you had something else in mind feel free to point us in another direction ;-) Until next time...

 Blackness. Unlike the light that shines in the day, blackness -- total blackness -- engulfs even one's deepest and darkest secrets. Surrounded and swept away by darkness, one's mind drifts in an endless sea of one's own memories. Youth, adolescence, teen, adult.. Everything meshes into one, yet separates into many -- disperses into a cloud of confusion and fright. Light.. one senses light.. it's coming closer. With a loud cough, Talia awakened to find herself alone. Too alone. (~Alan?~) She reached out with her senses along the bond.. he was so far way.. Like a weepy child, Talia cried. Too far gone into oblivion as she was, she knew nothing of pride... All she knew was that Alan was too far away.. And then she fell back into darkness. She awoke some time later. Her wounds were gone, and it even looked like her clothes had been washed. Startled, Talia attempted to bolt upright.. only to find herself bound by an unseen force. (~Saidin? Xyranthes' doppleganger? Sneed? Oh, Light help me..~) Talia struggled to think of something witty to say.. but her mind was still somewhat hazy. How did she come to be here? "Noo.. it is not time for you to wake.. sleep." And Talia slept. Dreams come and dreams go, but nightmares stay a lifetime. Talia struggled to remember who had told her that.. but it was too hard. Her thoughts were a traumatic jumble scrambled layer after layer of fuzzy pictures and muffled sounds. "Alan..." She muttered in her tortured sleep. The figure in the shadows of the room lifted a gaze toward Talia's struggling form. Healing sleep, it seemed, escaped this woman's grasp. Weaving Saidin, he nudged her to awaken fully. Talia's eyes flew open. She looked nervously at the ceiling and then attempted, yet again, to bolt upright -- in vain. Talia gasped.. and gave up. Well, for the moment anyway. She turned her gaze to the walls, examining the dark room and trying to figure out how she got here from the cluttered debris of the ruined tower. Her eyes fell on the dark figure in the corner. "What.." she asked weakly. "...I found you..." The man's soft and weary voice sounded ominous in this small, dark room... and his voice sounded vaguely familiar. "..and Healed me.." she said softly.. She could have been dead now. Should have been. She silently thanked the power of a double bond. "...yes," He answered, still remaining in the shadows. "Why do you bind me?" Talia's thoughts were slowly coming together to make some kind of sense to her. If only she could figure out why he was so familiar. "...you were quite.. wrathful.. when the fever took you.." The explanation seemed as good as any. Talia peered at the dark figure.. "Come into the light.." Talia hid a gasp as the stepped into the light. It was Alan... but it wasn't Alan.. Talia could feel Alan.. he was very far away. He was not in the room with her. "Do not be angered, Mistress.." Ah'Lahn spoke as he walked into what little light there was, "I Healed you as best I could.. I am sorry and beg forgiveness.." Mistress? Talia gulped. This is one of the dopplegangers then. Talia tried to train herself not to show her slight edge of panic. Yet, he thought she was her duplicate. Why, then, should she not try to pass herself off as that.. wretched one? "I forgive you, then.... pet. Now, let me loose before I show you what your insides look like!" The word pet in referrence to a man.. especially one that looked so much like Talia's love, made her shiver inside with disgust. However, she needed to pass herself off as her doppleganger. She just hoped that she gathered enough from that one conversation to pretend to be her. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ She forgave him. Ah'Lahn hid a smile. He must be gaining favor with the Mistress. All these years, he had worked and slaved to climb the rung of the status ladder.. and soon, he promised himself.. soon, he would be side by side with her. (~Dark poison of my heart..~) Never would he tell the Mistress that he truly loved her. He saw what happened to the last poor fellow who made such a confession. Now, everyone is privileged to see his head resting on a pike outside her tent. He knew of her secret dealings with Zeranthes. He knew also of the charade she puts on for the ladies of the Dark One's Tower, pretending to be a full and devoted follower of Myiona. Ah'Lahn did not care. He would follow her into the Pit of Doom itself. He quickly released the bonds of Saidin about his Mistress's body. "How did your meeting go, M'lady?" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Talia pondered the answer to this question... "It.." Then she put on her number one scowl.. the one she usually reserved for jealous glances at Alan. "It was a complete disaster. The fool has flipped his lid. If I didn't know better, I'd say the taint has him.. but we all know that it hasn't." Talia got up and dusted herself off. She knew better than to ask where she was. Taria might know this place like the back of her hand. "Any word from the others?" La'rece's look alike had implied that there were some others she had yet to see. How many.. she didn't know. "Myiona hasn't sent word to you for anything. She's used to you being off on your own scouting missions, M'lady..." "Good." Talia was relieved that Taria wasn't expected anywhere... "Let's move out then.. I have things to do." ~~~~~~~~~~~~ T <><
OOC note: if anyone wants to run into Talia, feel free.

 "What could have happened here to cause such a huge hole?" Mura'shar ad seized saidin, scanning the nearby debris for anyone trying to hide from them. "It must have been the One Power. I don't believe anything natural did this" he doubted even a small volcano could have done this. He hoped everyone at the Black Tower was still all right. A quick search didn't reveal any survivors. Or any bodies at all, for that matter. Mura'shar decided to try breaking the ice that was forming between himself and Myiona "I missed you" he told her as they finished their search. Myiona's eyes actually went cold "Did you miss me more than Naden?" she asked Mura'shar couldn't hide a wince. He supposed he deserved that. He wasn't being fair to Myiona. But he had failed her. He was supposed to protect her, and she died. He tried to explain that "You haven't seen what it was like there. The strong preyed on the weak, and Aes Sedai are the weakest. They get tugged this way and that by rival factions Mera'shar..." the name still left a bad taste in his mouth ,"took pride in having six 'toys' as he called them. He had one from every ajah but green. And he told me he would use you to complete his 'collection'" Mura'shar grabbed her hand and squeezed it. His voice grew husky. "That was the worst part. Knowing he was masquerading as me, wondering when he would walk in with seven attendants instead of six. I couldn't let that happen, I had to get out or die trying. And Naden was the only one willing to help. She was going through everything that was in store for you. It seemed wrong to leave her there and save myself. They would have killed her. And yet she died anyway" Mura'shar ran out of words. He didn't think they would make much sense to anyone but himself anyway. But at least Myiona had relaxed a bit. There was no...involvement between himself and Naden... A horrible thought occurred to Mura'shar "Myiona, while I was gone, did you and Mera'shar, ah" he didn't know how to phrase what he was asking delicat ely. It could explain Myiona's discomfort in talking about what happened at the Black Tower. Myiona's eyes flashed in anger for a moment, then of all things, she laughed "Oh, no" she paused to laugh again "No, nothing happened" She gave him a look of pure mischief "But not for want of trying. On his part, of course" For just a moment, she was back to her old self. But then her face fell You're right about one thing. Something did happen while you were gone. I, I killed two men, Mura'shar Those two Soldiers from before. I murdered them!" Her eyes filled with tears as she explained what happened. The confrontation the fight. The one Soldier's dying accusation as Tareena watched. Mura'shar swallowed a lump. Myiona was the First Dragonsworn and Green Ajah. Trained in both the White tower and the Black. It was folly for two half-trained Soldiers to attack her. And she killed them both... Myiona was looking at him, waiting for him to say something to her. To condemn her, perhaps or recoil in revulsion. Something. Mura'shar took her hand again. "I wasn't there, Myiona. I only know what you told me. But I know you didn't murder them. You took the Three Oaths. You couldn't have used the One Power unless you were in danger of your life. " But Tareena warned me. She said to warn you too. It could have been stopped ooner, without bloodshed she protested" Mura'shar put his arms around her. "We'll never know, Myiona. And I certainly don't want to use the Portal Stones to find out. But I still believe you. I saw them before the mission. They were just waiting for a moment when we were separated. They were planning on revenge for a while. All that was stopping them was the threat of being caught. "I know you Myiona. I know what you are and aren't capable of. Maybe you were hasty, but you didn't act out of malice. I refuse to believe that" Myiona looked up at him. "Even after seeing my counterpart? THAT is what I'm capable of" "That wasn't you any more than Mera'shar was me. Would I ever threaten La'rece? These Others are just possibilities. We might have been them if things were different, very different. But we're not. I know you and I trust you. Myiona started to reply but Mura'shar cut her off "In fact, I've come to a decision" he leaned over and whispered something in her ear. She looked puzzled for a moment "What? A name? Should I recognize it? Who is he?" "You know him, though you wouldn't recognize the name" Mura'shar broke a promise he made to himself long ago telling her this. But he had to prove once and for all he trusted her. This was it. "That is the name I had before I learned I could channel. Before my family exiled me and faked my death so I could live. I promised never to bring dishonor on them for being a male channeler, so I forsook that name and became Mura'shar. You are one of maybe a half dozen people who know my real name and that I'm alive. That is how much I trust you and believe in you" At that moment, Mura'shar heard footsteps. He spun around and saw Aramis and Alcinia stepping through a doorway. At least they looked like them. Mura'shar grabbed saidin and felt goosebumps as Myiona embraced saidar. Aramis released saidin "Mura'shar? Myiona?" Both nodded, with wary looks. "Have you seen Stevan?" Mura'shar glanced at Myiona. Then back at Aramis "Can we trust you?" he hadn't seen either of their duplicates while in captivity. He didn't know how different they would be "can we trust you?" shot back Alcinia. She had a point there. They had nothing but his word, so he gave it Mura'shar looked at her for a moment. "By the Light and my hope of salvation and rebirth we are who we say we are. Mura'shar and Myiona of the Black Tower." It was the strongest oath he knew and hoped it was enough. He'd hate to have a misunderstanding now they were sure to regret later. It was enough Alcinia nodded, satisfied. "Where are we going now?" Mura'shar glanced at Myiona, who had recovered her composure during the standoff. "That's a good question" he replied.
 Jake
Marked Asha'man

 "Did you miss me more than Naden?" Myiona almost spit the words out. The jealousy had not gone away by ignoring it, if anything it had gotten stronger. She wanted to scream at him, or hurt him the same way she was hurting inside. Instead, she was forced to stand by calmly and wait for an explanation that would satisfy her. As Mura'shar talked about his counterpart and the "toys", she could almost sympathize with the women caught in such a trap. Knowing that Mera'shar had intended to use her to complete his collection made her shudder. Though she had not recognized at the time, his masquerade as her bondmate had never been successful. She sensed something different, but thought it her own problems that made her not want to get too close. His touch had left her feeling different than when Mura'shar touched her. They talked more about Mera'shar, Myiona assuring him that nothing happened between herself and the double. Then, hesitantly, she told him about the two soldiers. She waited for him to turn against her as well. Myiona had never made friends among other women easily, and losing one was difficult for her. She regretted not telling Tareena everything, but the other refused to listen. "I know you and I trust you," Mura'shar said before leaning over to whisper in her ear. He told her the name of who he used to be. Her mind immediately began sorting through the Cairhien houses trying to determine his exact rank. She shook her head and sighed at her own foolishness. Myiona felt the presence of another female channeler and turned, embracing the source, ready to strike out. The four stared at each other before realizing they were from the same tower. "Where are we going now?" Alcinia asked. "That's a good question," Mura'shar replied looking at her. The Domani was already thinking through the possibilities. "First," Myiona replied looking around and realizing how vulnerable they were at the moment, "we should get out of the middle of the street and think through this. I don't want to rush off without thinking and get into more trouble again. Second, where did La'rece go? I don't want to leave her out here alone. Let's head back to the last place we saw her and see if we can find her."
Vicky
aka Myiona

 Making her way down the street, La'rece wondered how things had faired
for the others.  The day's events had taken their toll on her energy
and the image of her counterpart's face in death seemed to hang in the
back of her mind.  Bracing herself for the likelihood of additional
battle, the Dragonsworn headed back to where she had last seen Mura'shar and
Myiona.

As she turned the corner, La'rece all but knocked Myiona down.
Mura'shar quickly caught Myiona around the waist keeping her on her feet.

"Sorry about that!" La'rece said as she quickly took in the four
members of the Black Tower.  La'rece was confident they were all the
individuals from her world. "What became of My... your ... well, the other
Myiona?" La'rece asked her friend.

Myiona paused only a moment, then relayed the events to La'rece ...
 

Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 Alcinia was glad that they had found Myiona and Mura'shar. As much as she hated crowds, she felt there was more safety in numbers now. Myiona, as always, was ready to make decisions. Her suggestions were good and the Mayene thief only nodded. They rounded a corner and Myiona bumped into La'rece, the woman they were looking for. As the two women spoke quietly, Alcinia looked at her bondmate. He had asked her to consider something right after he bonded her, but she was not sure what to do about it. As they crept through the streets, Alcinia led them from one hiding place to another. "Here," Myiona said finally, "we will go inside this building and decide what to do." While the men checked out to make sure the place was safe, Alcinia stepped over to speak to Myiona. "I need to ask you a question," she said softly. "How do you bond a man? I mean, um, Aramis bonded me and asked about a double bond. I am not sure about if I should do it or even how to do it."
Alcinia

 Talia walked along these odd paths and streets, conscious at all times of the "fake" Alan following her every move like a faithful puppy. What would happen should he find out that she killed his 'Mistress'? Light forbid it.. She had no idea how strong this Alan was in the Power. (~Alan..~) His distance as beginning to get to her. She shook her head slightly in order to clear it.. (~I can do without him.. good riddance I say.~) Steeling herself to go on without thinking of the real Alan, Talia stepped out of one street to another. "M'lady.." "What?" Ah'Lahn straightened his dark robe about, shifting his weight nervously. "I hate to question your judgement, Mistress, but.. aren't we headed in the wrong direction?" Talia considered quietly what her wicked duplicate would say.. what she would do.. Mimicking her as best as possible, she backhanded Ah'Lahn across the jaw. (~Ow.. how did she do that without bruising herself. Forgive me, Alan..~) She knew it wasn't him, but it looked so much like him it was unnerving. "I know where I am going." Talia spoke in a voice as much like Taria's as she could manage. Storming off, Talia almost dispaired. (~Where is everyone? Where was that camp? Why can't I remember something so urgently necessary?~) Without actually realizing it, she walked boldly into the main way.. not very far from where Myiona and the others were. Giving the group a steady gaze, determining friend or foe, Talia did not move. Neither did Ah'Lahn. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
T Talia's mun <><

 Myiona looked at Alcinia in surprise. "Well," she said slowly, "that is news that I was not prepared for. How do you feel about the bond?" As Alcinia shared her misgivings and fears, Myiona smiled. It seemed every woman dealt with the same type of feelings after a bonding. "In my opinion," the Domani said, "a double bond is the best way to go. It keeps things more even between the Asha'man and Dragonsworn. Aramis is a good man, and needs the support of a trustworthy bondmate. Can you be that person Alcinia? Will you be at his side in every battle? No man is easy to deal with and Asha'men are harder than most. You do not have to fall in love with him, but you should be his friend." Myiona explained the bonding process to Alcinia in case the Mayene girl decided to double bond Aramis. "Be patient with your unease," she advised. "It will pass in time and you will wonder how you ever lived without his presence in your mind and life."
Vicky
aka Myiona

 Myiona looked at Alcinia in surprise. "Well," she said slowly, "that is news that I was not prepared for. How do you feel about the bond?" As Alcinia shared her misgivings and fears, Myiona smiled. It seemed every woman dealt with the same type of feelings after a bonding. "In my opinion," the Domani said, "a double bond is the best way to go. It keeps things more even between the Asha'man and Dragonsworn. Aramis is a good man, and needs the support of a trustworthy bondmate. Can you be that person Alcinia? Will you be at his side in every battle? No man is easy to deal with and Asha'men are harder than most. You do not have to fall in love with him, but you should be his friend." Myiona explained the bonding process to Alcinia in case the Mayene girl decided to double bond Aramis. "Be patient with your unease," she advised. "It will pass in time and you will wonder how you ever lived without his presence in your mind and life."
Vicky
aka Myiona

 Alcinia had taken the lead, showing the rest of the group how to move quietly in concealment. They wee not far from their camp when they decided to take a break. "Here," Myiona said finally, "we will go inside this building and decide what to do." Good idea Mura'shar thought. They could be reasonably certain that everyone in this group was who he or she claimed to be. But who could say who was an impostor out there? This was definitely a time for caution. As they spread out to check the building for traps, Mura'shar noticed Alcinia speaking quietly to Myiona. And Aramis was almost unconsciously staying close to Alcinia. Like he was connected to her...things have changed a bit since he left. He always had the impression Alcinia was too independent to opt for bonding. Aramis noticed his look and gave a faint smile. He walked up to him. "When did you bond?" Mura'shar asked him "I must say I'm a bit surprised" "There were few options at the time" Aramis replied, and gave a quick explanation of the events that led to his bonding her "I offered a double bond" he said "but I think she hasn't gotten over the original bonding yet" Mura'shar nodded. He had no wise words to share, so he simply said "A bondmate is the one person whom you can absolutely trust. The bond makes you closer than friends, closer than family. It will take time to adjust. For both of you. Alcinia's smart to take is slowly." Aramis nodded in agreement. The bond must have been a shock to him as well. They both started when they heard footsteps. Not in the building, but outside, and coming closer. They hissed to their bondmates and La'rece as they prepared to meet their guest. But how to greet this person, with open arms or bared blades?
Jake
Marked Asha'man

 Voices. Footsteps. Shea flinched and fought the urge to run in the opposite direction. Then again, maybe that wasn't such a bad idea. The voices sounded vaguely familiar, but with the Others running around, not to mention the echoes of Rhuidean distorting every word spoken in the Light-forsaken place... I might as well go in there, she told herself. They could be friends. And if they aren't....well, I'm as good as dead from exposure if I don't find my comrades in a few hours, at the most. Convinced if not comforted by this half-hearted exercise in logic, Shea gripped her sword's hilt tightly and, blade first, cautiously rounded the corner of the door. Asha'man Mura'shar and Aramis, and Dragonsworns Myiona and Alcinia -- or at least people who looked like them -- all stood there, staring at her with a wary expression she sensed mirrored on her own face. Do or die, Shea, do or die... "I...am...Shea Vironda," she managed to get out. "Initiate of the True Bl ack Tower, in service of the Lord Dragon for the furtherance and triumph of the Light over Dark." They continued to look at her. "You are Mura'shar, Myiona -- you two are bonded, you have been ever since I joined -- and La'rece -- you were bonded to Ivan and Janara, but they both have gone -- Aramis...I don't know you, really...and Alcinia." Shea nodded at Alcinia desperately. "One day at the Tower I found you in a tree, and we went to the kitchens, and then we went out exploring, and we found a young girl fallen from her horse. Only it turned out to be an Illusion, and she was not a child, actually." Alcinia opened her mouth to speak but Shea rushed on. "My first mission was the Island of the Madmen. The first thing we found was this terrible fountain, and nearly everybody drank and got horrible visions. I didn't drink, though, because I was scared. And--" Mura'shar, first exchanging a glance with his companions, cut her off. "We believe you are who you say you are, Initiate," he told her. "Stay close. There may be traps." Shea nodded slightly and joined the group, stationing herself with La'rece, who seemed to be the odd one out. Alternating the hand in which she held her sword, she did her best to wipe her sweaty palms on her dusty coat. Despite the near-fatal heat of the Waste, Shea somehow had the idea that even had they been in a cool climate, her hands would be no less sweaty.
~Rae Who plays Shea, the "little lost Initiate" ;?

 Darren knew she was right there, around the corner - and she was! "You seem happy to see me!" Darren managed to say after a ferocious hug. Tareena nodded. "It's..." "Dangerous for only three of us to be standing out in the middle of a street?" Chagrined, she nodded, and, taking his hand, led him to one side - a pause. "Three?" "I ran across Ariana, we joined up; I left her behind for a moment you were so close." "Maybe you should find her." Darren nodded as he ran back around the corner. Nothing. No one. " Ariana? .... Blast it! Light! She's gone." Tareena quickly caught up and looked with him. "I wonder what could have happened? How far did you leave he behind?" "Maybe a block. There might have been an ambush I ran straight through." "If there had, wouldn't they still be out?" "Well, what else could it have been?" Tareena shrugged. "Now, what are you doing here?" **** As we all remember, Ariana saw her counterpart and went off and fought her. She must be far enough away that we can't feel the weaves.
Luke

 Darran looked down into this corner - no sign of mera'shar. Leap! And he was across. jogging alongthe edge of the roof he came to the next corner - a pit took up a good portion of the intersection. {{that's odd. Might be worth a look.}} Darran dropped to the ground and walked to the edge. "Hello?" What with the echoing, Darran couldn't recognize the voice. After a few moments, his eyes adjusted. "Dengar? ..." Darran saw that the pit was a good jump up but nothing he couldn't handle... maybe he'd have to bounce off the walls on the way up. "Watch out!" He dropped, and landed between them, facing Rengar. "You've lost weight, Dengar! I thought..." Darran glanced behind himself. There was Dengar. He backed up so he could see both of them. Facing Dengar, he asked, "Why haven't you killed him?" Dengar smiled. "I would surely need his help in getting to the surface." Darran looked around him. There was no evidence anyone had been working Earth at all. "Not that you seem to have been taking advantage ot it." Dengar's smile widened. "Well, I certainly couldn't have him channelling, could I? He could turn on me!" Darran looked down to him. "Then you could do it yourself." "But then I would get tired and he might break free." "You could kill him first." "Why? As I see it, MY mission is complete... Rengar is out of the way." Darran laughed. "Well, this was an upward trade then." "Thank you." "Beacuse you are utterly useless and Rengar probably isn't. Now, I have matters to attend to." Darren looked up the walls to see what places would be good for leaping off of. Suddenly, Rengar said, "Wait!" Darran stopped and listened. **** At this point you could have Rengar come up with some deal that would help them get back to the surface, or he could just ask about how everyone else is doing, or whatever you like... If youdon't like this, I will change it so it fits. Luke

 As Myiona and Mura'shar began a quiet discussion, La'rece turned and smiled at Shea. It was a miracle that they had all managed to find each other given the possibilities with what all had occurred. "How are you, Shea?" the Dragonsworn asked the Initiate as they stood in the cool of the building's interior. "You seem none the worse for wear. It's actually a good thing you found us ? Shea looked at the Arafellan woman quisically. "We can use your blade. Always good to have another arm about if trouble arises that cannot be easily fought with the One Power" the Blademaster said. Glancing around, La'rece's attention was drawn to Aramis and Alcinia. What's going on there, I wonder? Suddenly, La'rece found herself further distracted. A feeling, almost like an itch touched the perimeter of the Dragonsworn's mind. She recognized it immediately. Shadowspawn. Near. But where? OOC: I just threw in the shadowspawn at the end ... if we don't want them, just ignore it! hehe. Rae, feel free to pick it up from here!
Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 Alcinia listed closely to Myiona's advice, knowing that the Domani knew more of men than she did. She knew that Aramis had bonded her on an impulse and might be regretting it now. He might even decide to break the bond after the mission. She looked over at him and decided that she did not like that idea as much as she should. When Shea appeared everyone was nervous and jumpy. They quickly decided it was the one from their tower and La'rece walked over to speak with her. Alcinia found a staircase at the end of a hallways and went up to see what she could see from a higher vantage point. Alone, in an empty room, Alcinia stared off into the night. A dark movement in one of the alleys caught her attention. It only took a moment for her to recognize the creature out of every child's nightmares and an icy cold fear filled her. A myrddraal walked the streets of Rhudeain.

 Use my blade? Shea glanced apprehensively at the heron-mark on La'rece's blade, and wondered just how bad things could be if the fighting skills of a young Initiate would make much of a difference. She was very good, but no Blademaster. Though she knew that the greeting was just a way of La'rece welcoming her, it had an unintended negative effect, and made Shea more worried than before. "I...got lost..." she murmured vaguely, realizing that there had been an actual question involved. Her wanderings hadn't been very eventful, only frightening. Stranded from her fellows, Shea had also been isolated from the threat presented by the Others. This group, however, seemed to be in the thick of it. Still, in an odd way, Shea thought she preferred the increased danger than remaining alone in that eerie city. A subtle itch between her shoulders alerted her to the sense that something was not quite right. Puzzled, the blond girl looked to La'rece for an answer. The Dragonsworn's face clearly showed that she, too, felt the tingle, and knew what it meant. "What..." La'rece saw Shea's inquisitive arch of eyebrow and needed nothing further. "Shadowspawn," she told her. Shadowspawn! With all the other perils lurking about Shea'd almost forgotten the basics. Creatures of the Dark. Splendid. She gripped her hilt even more tightly, if that was possible. Alcinia came down from a stair Shea hadn't seen her climb. "There's a Myrddraal out there," she said quietly. In the shadows by the door, a flick of black where no black should have been caught Shea's eye. She stared, trying to trace out that ebony-on-black, but the darkness was too thick, too dense. A blade came whistling out of that all-too-tangible darkness, and it was reflex only that allowed Shea to meet and block the frighteningly strong stroke of a Shadow-wrought sword. The Myrddraal slashed back instantly, moving with a serpentine grace and speed that scared Shea more than anything she'd ever seen in her entire life, and it was all she could do to croak out a hoarse cry for help before striking back, and fighting with a desperation that could only be born in a creature of mortal limitations.
~Rae Shea Vironda Initiate

 Aramis peered out the window, half watching the street and half listening to Mura'shar. He appreciated the man's candor. Too many of the Black Tower had turned to the compulsion bonding and turned Aes Sedai into menial servants or worse... Aramis shuddered and tried to think on something else. One by one, members of the Black Tower, the true Tower, trickled in. Not enough, Aramis thought, with the enemy camp so close. The two men had their backs to their bondmaters but Aramis felt Alcinia leave the room. Wondering if he should follow, he turned... ...and fear shot through the bond with such force that Aramis almost fell over. He had his sword out and seized onto saidin while he still tripped over his own feet. But even as he reached the stairs Alcinia shot down them just as quickly. "There's a Myrddraal out there," she breathed, pointing towards a back door. Before anyone could react Shea screamed, desperately fighting the Fade. Aramis wove Fire and Spirit, and Air for a shield (prevents splattering) but Mura'shar grabbed his arm. "No channeling; not yet," he said. Aramis nodded, and the two launched themselves at the Fade with blades bared. Caught off guard and faced with two more experienced swordsmen, the Myrddraal didn't last very long. Mura'shar flowed smoothly into River Undercuts the Bank and severed one of it's legs and Shea quickly severed it's head, but in it's last wild swing the black blade caught Aramis' swordblade near the hilt and broke the blade off. He swore. A rapier wasn't the strongest sword, and certainly no match for a Fade or Trolloc one-on-one, but it had been made for him by the Master Armorer from Caemlyn's royal palace after Aramis lost his right hand. "There are more out there," said La'rece from the doorway, "And the other Tower is with them. I think they are hunting us." Aramis looked at the others. "Since they hunt for us, I say we end this now." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ooc: you guys feel free to say yes or no. ;-) There's no time like the present to shed a little blood! hehe

 "There are more out there," said La'rece from the doorway, "And the
other Tower is with them. I think they are hunting us."

Aramis looked at the others. "Since they hunt for us, I say we end this
now."

La'rece nodded to the Asha'man and gathering up Shea headed with the
rest of their group toward the outside. It would be better to take on
this lot on a less confining battle ground.

Just as La'rece approached Shea, the barest change in air movement
caught her attention. In one fluid movement, the Dragonsworn swept her
blade around as she spun to face a clove-hooved trolloc, its all to human
eyes peering out from the face of a goat. The trolloc hadn't expected
the woman's immediate response and stood with an expression of surprise
in its eyes as its head slowly fell from its shoulders.

Turning back to the group before the trolloc's body had even hit the
ground, La'rece shouted, "Trollocs! Be ready!"

Just then an entire wall smashed outward and a dozen or so nightmarish
figures, each one half again as tall as a man, came charging into the
room.  Behind the trollocs strode a Myrdraal, its cloak never moving,
its eyeless face smiling. The Fade's black scimitar blade dully
reflecting what little light entered the room, now crowded with fighting
figures.

As she stood back to back with Shea fighting off three trollocs between
them, La'rece watched as Mura'shar and Myiona fought off trollocs from
two points of attack. The Arafellan caught a glimpse of Aramis engaging
the Myrdraal, but she saw no sign of Alcinia.

"Let's go!" La'rece shouted to Shea over the cacaphony after the two
had disposed of their three trollocs. The young Initiate followed the
Dragonsworn as they moved in to help Myiona and Mura'shar who were trying
to deal with five trollocs.

With an upward cut, La'rece removed the arm of a trolloc who was about
to strike Myiona from behind.  Shea moved in to help the Myiona with a
large wolf-faced trolloc that towered over the First.

Moving closer to Mura'shar, La'rece shouted, "Need a hand?!"  The wry
look the Asha'man gave her made her laugh as she attacked the trolloc
attempting to flank Mura'shar leaving him to deal with the creature
directly in front of him.

Fighting raged within the enclosed space, yet none of the Tower had
channeled. To do so would be the same as lighting a beacon for any other
shadowspawn and the Other Tower.

Suddenly the fighting was over. The only sound came from the Myrdraal's
sword scraping across the ground as its headless body thrashed about.
Idly, La'rece wondered how long it would take for a Myrdraal to die in
this place.

Exchanging glances, the group left the scene and headed for the street.
They all knew that this would not end until the Others were destroyed.

Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 As the shadowspawn broke into the room, Myiona looked around for a weapon. She had foolishly left her sword in the room and she had nothing to fight with. Leaning against a wall nearby was a long wooden pole. Using it like a staff, Myiona tried to at least keep herself from being killed. Mura'shar was having enough trouble dealing with the trollocs surrounding him, and could not offer her any aid. La'rece rescued Myiona for the second time that night by fighting at her side along with the initiate Shea. After the fighting ceased Myiona dropped the now splintering pole on the floor. She looked around wondering if there were any weapons not tainted by Shayol Ghul in the room that she could take for protection.
Vicky
aka Myiona

 A flicker of something neither light nor darkness at the corner of his vision.. A sensation of skimming along the surface of the Pattern towards something.. A thousand lives pass before his eyes, those he might have loved, those choices he might have made.. Then.. Barely an instant had passed before Caballein opened his eyes again and looked at what seemed the same Rhuidean where Asha'man Xyranthes had first used the Portal Stone. A thick mist now hung over the city, perhaps that same mist which in their own world had cloaked it before Rand al'Thor had unveiled its secrets. The city was the same otherwise; although some buildings were less repaired and others were more intact, Caballein could recognize the general layout which he had memorized out of habit on the trip in. Yet something in the air felt different, beyond even the stillness of the mist. This world felt.. dark. As ordered, he began to search the city for the thieves. Having only a vague idea of who they might be, he made up his mind to be prepared for almost anything. He was not prepared, however, when he rounded a corner and nearly bumped into Morana Coedrin. "Where have you been?" she said without preamble. He blinked. What were the chances that of all the infinite points in the unusual second dimension of time on the Pattern, Omoide would have placed her in the one to which the as-yet-unknown ter'angreal thieves had fled to? "I tried to find you," he began. He started to move forward to hug her, to tell her how much he had missed her, but she turned away and walked briskly down a street. "Hurry. There's another Tower from another world here, and they pose a danger to us." He followed her, startled, barely hearing her words. If she was this cold, could he have forgotten it? He did not remember her as being so cold, not once he had gained her trust at least. Or had the memories which Omoide had left him been warped over time enough that he now held an idealized image of her which did not match the reality? Or perhaps Omoide had twisted her mind somehow, making her over into his own evil being. He shuddered at the thought. She led him to a door in one of the buildings of the city and opened it, then stopped. She turned and looked at him with icy eyes. "You aren't Damallein," she said. It suddenly dawned on him what she had said earlier. Other Tower. Other worlds which mirrored his own, some of which were so real that you could meet yourself. He was in a world in which Morana - or her counterpart - had never been taken by Omoide, and apparently served a Black Tower with different goals than his own Tower. You bloody fool, you should have realized this! Of course Omoide wouldn't make it so easy! "Marena, what.." said his own voice from behind the door, and his own face appeared beside the woman he had thought - hoped - was Morana in the doorway. "Oh. The Lightfriends." Damallein, she had called him? A name that should be mine, he thought bitterly. "Nice to meet you," Caballein said, then ran. "Why are you standing there staring?" he heard Marena shouting behind him. "Stop him!" He felt weaves of the Power encircle and bind him, and he wished one again that he had more strength in Air. "What are we supposed to do with a prisoner?" Damallein asked behind him; he found that he was unable to turn his head to watch the two apparent Darkfriends. "We can't keep him here, you know. But the M'Hael and the Lord Dragon will want to interrogate him, so we can't kill him." Marena walked around to his front and examined him; he was unable to turn his head away from a face which looked so achingly like Morana's. She frowned. "Perhaps someone else in the Tower can hold prisoners while we deal with the other members of this Lightfriend Tower," she said. "Did the Great Lord finally have mercy on Dragonsworn Shay's last pet and take his soul?" "I think so." Damallein's voice sounded hesitant. Marena smiled wickedly. "I think she would be happy to take care of our prisoner for us, then." As he was dragged down the street, still bound in Air, Caballein was left to try to puzzle out the meaning of that exchange. -- Uninspired. Clumsy. Written without the aid of a muse. But it's an RP. Whee.

 With a melodramatic sigh, Shay reimmersed her cloth into the bucket of soapy water. The fact that nobody tried to interfere when she took in a new pet was the main reason she stayed in the Tower. Outside, people questioned her motives, her credibility. Here, nobody cared what she did on her own time as long as she used her blade well in battle, helped Heal fallen comrades afterward, and, of course -- leaving her out of the process was unthinkable -- tortured captives until they broke and confessed whatever the Tower wanted. After the information had been gotten, Shay was free to take the prisoner for her own private amusement. They usually died. She didn't mind much about that. It was the cleaning up afterwards that she found soooo bothersome. Satisfied that the rather large bloodstain that had somehow found its way all over her floor was more or less gone, Shay stood up and turned to leave her tent -- only to find herself face to face with another Dragonsworn, the Asha'man who controlled her, and a slumped figure leaning against the back of Damallein's legs. Shay ignored Marena for the moment and fixed her attentions on Damallein. He intrigued her, this rare man who did not openly exert control over his female pet, instead allowing their relationship to appear to be an equal partnership. It was a sham, of course. The amount of saidin men could hold was larger than the saidar women could. Men were larger, stronger, and their desires usually painfully to the point. All this and more meant that men in the Tower dominated, usually in every way imaginable. Shay was one of the few Dragonsworn not yet forced to submit, and she enjoyed her freedom to the fullest. Marena glared. (Glare all you want. I at least am not on a man's leash.) "Shay," she said, "I have a present for you." A present? Shay arched a finely shaped eyebrow and nodded towards the collapsed figure behind Damallein. "That?" He nodded, and, using the One Power, stretched the other man's body to standing, and propped him up so that Shay could see his face. A quick intake of breath, an almost imperceptible flush, and a lightly curving little smile: had any of Shay's past pets survived to see and explain that, they could instantly have told that things for the new man were about to go rapidly downhill. That faint smile looked as innocent and young as the rest of Shay appeared to be. It was very, very, very deceiving. "How marvellous!" she said in a light trilling tone, her smiled widening, leaning forward to gaze straight into the eyes of the restrained man. She saw that he was not unconscious as she had assumed but simply gagged and held tightly by the One Power. He looked desperately into her sweet green eyes. Shay smiled back reassuringly. "He looks exactly like you, Damallein. Wherever did you find him?" "Marena did," he said somewhat deferentially. His bondmate crossed her arms. "Yes. He was in the city, and for a moment I thought he was Damallein. Apparently he thought I was somebody else as well. When we discovered the truth, we reasoned that we couldn't just keep him, so we've decided to give him to you." Marena's glare grew even more pointed. "For safekeeping. That means no killing." Shay giggled. "Who, me? I never kill, Marena. Natural causes just seem to be unusually natural around me," she explained. Marena rolled her eyes expressively. "He's a member of the Lightfriend Tower. You've heard about them. They came through a Portal Stone and are full of duplicates of ourselves." "Splendid," breathed Shay, comparing the faces of Damallein and his duplicate. They were so exactly alike. It amused her. It...excited her. She gave Marena and Damallein a large, friendly smile. "I would be happy to take him off your hands. Just one thing, though. Is he shielded?" "Of course," Damallein replied brusquely. "I'm so glad. Stand him up straight, please, and put him over there." She indicated a spot a few feet away where she'd have room and not the other two leaning over her shoulder. The duplicate was placed accordingly and Shay sauntered up to him. Without hesitation, she rose up and kissed him passionately on the lips, then pulled back with equal ease. He looked at her with a puzzled expression, but her back was to him, telling Damallein to release his bonds of Air and the shield, and that he and his bondmate could go and not worry about their little ward. He and Marena left accordingly, and Shay was left alone with the duplicate. "What's your name, love?" "Caballein." Her smile widened to show small pearly white teeth. "How adorable! Your names even match. Well, Caballein, you may let your guard down here, and don't worry about having to escape or that bother. You can't. You belong to me now." Shay's eyes were now dancing with delight. "It's amazing how much more useful the old Aes Sedai-Warder bond became when it was discovered that just a small twist to the weave made it essentially identical to the Compulsion bond you Asha'man put on women. I've been experimenting with that twisted weave for some time, and I really think I've got it just right. Of course, all it takes is touch, any touch, but the kiss was the idea of the men, if you recall. Besides," Shay giggled, "I always begin with kisses. I think it helps me introduce myself. My name is Shay." She led Caballein out of the antechamber and into a more intimate, much smaller, room. She sat down on a low structure that couldn't seem to decide whether it was a table or a bed, and patted the space beside her. "Sit down." Of course, he had to. Shay smiled at him and resumed the kiss where she'd left off during the bonding. Caballein tried to jerk away but Compulsion forced him not to. For her part, she acted as though she were madly attracted to him until he was well and thoroughly confused. She dug a fingernail into his hand and giggled yet again when he flinched. "Are you hurt, Caballein? And silly me forgetting to even Delve you out of courtesy. I can Heal, though, don't worry." She could -- and she did. The One Power washed through him, healing sunburn, minor scrapes, and he shivered with the involuntary convulsion that always accompanied Healing. Shay didn't stop channeling, though the Healing weaves did cease. Caballein's shudders, however, did not. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~* In the dark corridors of the abandoned building in Rhuidean, hiding spaces were not lacking. Shea needed one rather badly. The Shadowspawn were too many, too dangerous, too eager to kill. Slashing almost wildly at the air all around her, she called on the Creator to shelter her within His hand, and sure enough, a hole in the wall to her right became almost immediately discerible. She dived in it and thanked the Light that she was small enough to be the only creature in that corridor who could fit in such a hole. She did not come out until all the Shadowspawn had gone. That much, she had planned for. It was the absence of her group, as well, that concerned her. ~Rae Shay/Shea Demonic Dragonsworn/Little Lost Initiate

 Strong winds blew beneath the scorching sun, sweat evaporating as soon as it appeared. Tareena wore a cloth upon her head, pausing occasionally to hold it under a fountain to remoisten. Her reunion with Darren was overshadowed by her confusion and concern for the tower and for Myiona. Her anger at the Dragonsworn was still a tight not centered somewhere in her midsection. The sudden appearance of her bondmate was an unexpected oasis in the shifting and swirling dessert wind of betrayal. Words upon words poured forth from her, trying to fill Darren in on everything that had happened. Answering his questions, working through the events of the last few days helped her to bring some sort of perspective to the forefront. The only issue they disagreed upon, unfortunately, was Myiona. At one point Tareena found herself coming to a complete halt in the middle of the street, hands waving and gesturing, trying to make him see her point of view. Darren disagreed with her. Point blank. He brought up the fact that Myiona could not lie, she had taken the three oaths long before Tareena had been set free from the Seanchan. He stated that Myiona had to have had a good reason for her actions and Tareena was being judgmental and hasty in her decisions. Tired and dispirited, she trudged along beside him, feeling the tight ball of anger grow ever larger. Finally, Tareena caught him looking at her out of the corner of his eye. "What?" she snapped, not feeling very charitable and certainly childlike. "Look Tareena, you are right about one thing. I wasn't there when it happened, I have no idea what brought the two of you to that point. I know you have a responsibility as Guardian of the Tower to seek the truth and to protect the tower at all costs. If you seriously believe Myiona might be a threat, then so be it. Although I still don't quite understand why." The last was said mostly under his breath but still audible. Tareena turned once more to him, putting out her hand to stop his forward movement. "Darren, what if the Myiona who killed those men wasn't really her? What if it was her double? What if all of this can be easily explained away by the peculiarities of this world? What if the evil Myiona is somewhere among our members now, passing herself off as one of us? Who will get hurt next? Who will she kill? What if it was really Myiona who killed those Soldiers? She promised me to speak to Mura'shar about it and to Steven. They needed to handle the soldiers, not Myiona. Things have been way to tense between the male and female members of the tower for far to long. The leaders needed to know there was a problem so they could handle it effectively to put an end to all of this. She didn't do it. Then she obeyed a direct order to stay in her tent. I have to find her. For all of our sakes. I want to believe that there is a reasonable explanation to this. Right now, I can't afford to not find her. Don't you see?" Darren continued to stare at her, troubled eyes trying to logically put all of the information in its proper place. Finally, with a nod, he agreed and resumed walking. With a sigh, Tareena followed.

 Stevan and Andraia watched patiently from the first floor of a building, looking on to the street where they had asked their counterparts to meet them. "Use balefire only as a last resort...but it may be a last resort we have to use...we do not know how powerful they are," Stevan whispered to Andraia, then promptly was quiet as he heard footsteps on the street below them. He heard Andraia give a sharp intake of held breath, and they watched, their hearts pounding and adrenaline flowing through their veins. Through the bond he could sense Andraia's nervousness. But the footsteps seemed to cease. They waited, and no one appeared. Andraia turned to Stevan, her voice now louder than a whisper, "Perhaps that was not them. But then why are they so late? Are they going to meet our challenge?" "As a matter of fact we are," a woman's voice sounded from behind them. They turned quickly, and Stevan was only just in time to push Andraia out of the way of a ball of fire shot from the fingers of Andraia's counterpart. It was astonishing to see how much she looked like his bondmate, except from the fact she was wearing plenty of makeup to hide her albino complexion, and seemed a lot bolder. Through the bond he could sense discomfort, as Andraia saw another version of herself, but a version she would die before the real her became. "I am Endrya," the woman continued, "And my bondmate is around here somewhere," she mused, before a wall behind Stevan and Andraia collapsed, and the two tumbled to the ground below them to fall at the feet of a man. And not just any man. Stevan looked up to see another him, the same, but yet different. The eyes were colder, the gaze harsher, and the laugh which he now gave nastier. "Welcome, it appears that you challenged us. But now I think it is us who need to challenge you." The bondmates got to their feet to see Endrya leaping down from the rubble of the building, and standing behind her bondmate. "Our challenge, our challenge, is for you two to stay alive for more than ten minutes!" He gave that nasty laugh again, and then made the earth beneath the two rumble. Stevan managed to stay on his feet, and he quickly seized saidin and threw a weave of Air as powerful as a gust of wind at his opposite, which was blocked by an alternate flow. Stevan grimaced. They appeared to be the same strength, unless his counterpart was holding back. But what had happened to Andraia? She had fallen to the ground when the earth had started rumbling, and Endrya had pounced on her, apparently shielding her as the tingling on his skin was no longer as great. "Stevan!" she called before she was hit by a weave of Air. "So, Stevan, your bondmate is out of the action. Two against one I feel." "Not so." Stevan quickly threw a shield around Endrya, shielding her from the One Power. At least he was stronger than one of them. Saidar rushed back into Andraia, but she did not use the One Power to attack. Instead she pulled a wire from her pocket, the same one she had used to kill some of the madmen not so long ago, and leaped at her opponents neck. "Stevan, help me," she gurgled as she was slowly strangled. The evil Stevan laughed. "You can look after yourself! I'm taking my opposite out of the action, especially now he is using most of his strength to hold you!" He then launched a wave of fireballs at Stevan, forcing him to fall back. Stevan had no choice but to let go of the shield, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Endrya throw Andraia off her, but instead of going straight to kill her, she went for...her bondmate instead? "You were going to let me die!" she screamed, her bondmate was certainly taken aback. Taking advantage of this moment of uncertainty he channeled all his effort into a wall of Fire and Air, a moving wind so hot that it would burn people to ashes. He threw it at a tremendous speed at the two fighting bondmates, and soon they were engulfed in flames. But as the wind passed, one figure stood standing. Endrya. "My bondmate was weak. He thought he was stronger than I, but it appears as if he was wrong," she said, looking at the pile of ashes on the floor. "But now I will have to deal with you bo..." She cut out as a dagger stood out from her chest, and Stevan turned to see Andraia with her arm outstretched. "Good work Stevan. But now I think we must move on," she said unbelievably calmly as she retrieved her dagger from the chest of her counterpart. And then the two of them walked into the enemy camp... "So the other Tower have been spotted? I will have to plan the battle then..." So far the impersonations had been going well, although Andraia was not pleased at having to wear lipstick. But now was the time for the real fun. Stevan smiled to himself. Now to teach people how not to plan a battle... ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ --------------------------------------------
Steve <><

 Mura'shar fought wildly against the Shadowspawn. He longed desperately to channel. But as he told Aramis, they can't risk it. Anyone from either Black Tower could easily spot them then. But not channeling did not hamper him nearly as badly as Myiona, who was unarmed. She was wildly swinging a makeshift staff, trying to keep the Trollocs at bay. Mura'shar made his way towards her, slashing at bestial faces. La'rece and Aramis were having a better time of it. La'rece, at least, was a blademaster, displaying skill Mura'shar couldn't hope to match. She made her way to him, helping to stem the flow of Trollocs while Aramis faced their Myrdraal commander. Soon the fighting was over, with no serious injuries on their part. Aramis was in favor of pursuit, but Mura'shar favored caution. "We need time to think. And prepare" he said, gesturing to Myiona, who was hunting through the Trolloc corpses for a useful weapon. A belt knife would do no good here. Something tingled in the back of his mind. He did a quick head count "Shea? "Shea!" he called out. Everyone began to spread out, looking for the Initiate. Mura'shar rounded a pile of rubble and found a dead Trolloc. Could it have dragged itself off during the fight? But no, there was a figure beyond it. A woman "Shea?" he called out softly No it wasn't Shea, but it was someone he recognized. Maybe. "Talia?" Another figure rose from the shadows "Alan? What are you two doing here?" Jake Marked Asha'man

 Just before the wall broke down and trollocs flooded the room, Alcinia felt the point of a knife press to her throat and a voice whisper in her ear. "Come with me," the woman said. "I wish you no harm, but dare not reveal myself to the others." Curious, she followed the stranger even after the knife was moved. They moved through several dark passages to a room that was lit by several candles. The other woman turned around and Alcinia found herself facing her double. "I am called El'cinia in my world," the woman said before she turned away. "I have been watching you and your friends for awhile and I came to give you warning before I escaped. I never wanted to join the tower in my world, but was forced by the bond of my captor. Now, he is dead thanks to one of your people. I am going to stay in this world when they leave." El'cinia paced the room nervously. "The only reason I am still alive," she continued, "is that Myiona found me useful. She had me secret away certain of the angreals we found. I have not seen her in quite awhile and I am afraid my only protection disappeared with her." Alcinia looked at the other woman with compassion. "Why do you want to warn us?" she asked. "You could go your own way and leave us to our own fates." "I could," El'cinia replied, "but I wish to pay some of the beasts back in my own tower who hurt me." She opened her shirt revealing the scars across her front. "The back is much the same. They took pleasure in breaking me. I wish them to suffer as well." "I can understand that," Alcinia replied. "I would do the same thing." A wistful smile crossed the face of El'cinia. "I wish my world had been more like yours. You should beware the shadows in my tower. The ones that work openly are not the true powers. There are those who work in the background that are the true masters. I do not even think all of those in authority are aware of the truth. Do not think a person weak because you see no power or authority." She shivered and looked around worriedly. "One came among us recently, a new recruit, but he was sent by one of the Chosen. He is still among the others and I fear him more than the brute who bonded me. Do not trust anyone. One more thing, take this." El'cinia handed her a bracelet and Alcinia slipped it on. It was a ter'angreal. "You may have occasion to need extra strength. This will provide a boost for your own powers. Stay well Alcinia." Then she faded into the shadows and was gone.

 Mera'shar shuddered and curled up into a ball. Myiona had been more thorough than he realized when she began to break him. Her ability to use pain and pleasure surpassed even his best torturers. Desperately, he clawed at the bonds of Compulsion. Compulsion couldn't stop people rom doing what they don't want to do. And the stronger the will, the harder to hold the mind. He knew he could break free eventually. And once he was he would rally his allies and.… But Myiona and her guards were taking no chances, After Mura'shar escaped. He was watched constantly. For now, e was on his own, trying to free his mind and escape. A shadow detached itself from a wall and strode towards him, with a smaller figure in tow. Mera'shar gazed at it and shuddered. A Myrdraal. And the figure with it.…? Raen! One of his other bondmates. A Yellow Sister renowned for her skills on mending the body and mind. "Mera'shar" the Fade's voice rasped. "Your skills are needed" it shoved Raen towards him "Remove his bonds" The Aes Sedai cringed and obeyed, Delving his mind and removing the Compulsion. That held him here. Mera'shar filled himself with saidin, drawing as much as he could, including through t=his still-hidden angreal. Guards rushed in, sensing channeling, Myiona strode in behind them "What is the meaning of this?" she cried out, then gasped as she found herself shielded and bound. Mera'shar began a killing weave, when he felt cold steel at his neck. "Release her" the Fade ordered. "Or die" Mera'shar did as he was told. He didn't need ot see the eyeless gaze to fear this Myrdraal. One cut with that Thakan'dar blade and he was as good as dead. Myiona recovered quickly, glaring at Mera'shar and the still-cowering Raen. She shivered and wrapped herself in her cloak when she saw the Myrdraal, though. Everyone feared them, but especially women. "As I said, what is the meaning of this? This one is mine, Halfman" Myiona still spoke with authority, whatever she felt. "You two have new order, directly form the chosen" the Myrdraal told her "This new Black Tower is become more than a nuisance. I and my brothers are even now hunting them. But they prove elusive and dangerous. The cache is in danger of discovery. You two will take your entire force, along with twenty-six of my brothers, and guard the cache personally. "Why us?" demanded Mera'shar "Why not Stevan or Zeranthes or Lu'rece?" "That is not my concern, human. Yours is to obey the Chosen and the Great Lord. Obey" The Fade stepped into a shadow and disappeared. For a moment, there was silence. Mera'shar recovered first. It was his chance to return to the good graces of his superiors! He turned to Myiona and planted a kiss on her lips, bonding her. "A sign of trust he said as she spluttered at him "We both know what happens to a bondmate when one dies. Now we dare not kill each other. He smiled unpleasantly. "Now if you will excuse me, I must find my people. Raen, follow!" The Asha'man strode out with the Aes Sedai scurrying behind. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
This will be my last rp for about a week. The family and I are off to New York!
Jake
Marked Asha'man

 Myiona was pleased that things were going so well. She knew Mera'shar would resist her, and breaking him was proving very pleasant. She had to be careful not to push him too far of course because it would make him more determined not to surrender to her. The guards began moving toward the place she had her newest pet and she sensed someone channeling Saidar. "This just isn't fair," she said stomping her foot. Finally finding someone worthy of her talents and now some foolish woman wanted to steal him away. Not if she had anything to say about it. Myiona walked into the room, full of purpose, and asked "What is the meaning of this?" She gasped feeling herself shielded and bound. Her eyes glittered hatred at Mera'shar and his Aes Sedai. She would survive and make them pay. After the halfman left, Myiona was off guard. Mera'shar's kiss and bonding of her startled her. Then he just turned and walked off. It did nothing for her temper when she realized that she was touching her lips and wishing he had kissed her for longer. She never fell for any of her pets. The feeling would not go away. All she could do was stomp around and mutter. The guards quickly left fearing her anger would be turned against them. She knew she had to obey the orders given, but there had to be a way to turn everything to her own advantage. The cache might be the solution to her problem. If she could find the right ter'angreal she would keep it for herself. Then let anyone who stood in her way beware.
Vicky
aka Myiona 1 and 2

 Shadowspawn. Talia could see them slinking in the darkness of the shadows. A shiver ran up her spine. Catching a glimpse of one, she nearly caught her breath. Ah'Lahn gave her the oddest look. She refused to meet him in the eyes. With each passing moment, she was acting less and less like his Mistress. Talia knew that. Sooner or later he was going to find out, and she couldn't think of what she'd do then. Having someone who looked so much like Alan in her presence made the dull ache of his absence seem to.. lessen. Talia doubted she could do the necessary and kill him. It just seemed too cruel a death for her to kill Ah'Lahn. He was too much like Alan. Except for the whole submissive attitude. Talia saw the Shadowspawn move again out of the corner of her eye. Ah'Lahn looked over at the Myrdraal with less fear than any Lightfearing citizen should. If Talia needed any more proof that A'Lahn was beyond redemption.. this was it. "You need not fear it THAT much, Mistress.." Ah'Lahn did show a bit of fear himself. No one could really be completely calm in the presence of such things. However, Ah'Lahn knew that his Mistress Taria never showed her inner fears on her face. Until now? Ah'Lahn studied Talia's face until Talia gave him a scowl to match any that Taria had shown. He averted his gaze, "Forgive my impertinence, Misress.." With a wave of her hand, Talia 'forgave' him.. wishing he would be silent so as not to attract the Myrdraal's attention. Her heart beat in trepidation and --yes-- fear. The last time she had truly known fear was when she and Alan had been attacked by that huge monster in the Land of Madness. But this was a different fear.. A fear for one's soul. "Tell me, Mistress.." Ah'Lahn gazed at her while he spoke softly.. "Look at me in the eyes.. tell me what I have done to displease you so..." Talia gulped.. the eyes were the windows to the soul. If he did not already know she was not his Mistress, he would know for certain if she were to look in his eyes. But look in his eyes she must, for to deny that would be to affirm his suspicions. Talia resigned to it. If she had to defend herself from him and the Myrdraal, she was destined to die. She had to try to pass herself off as her double. She turned her eyes toward him.. intending to give him the fixed icy glare of Taria.. but instead, she could not help but melt. His eyes were Alan's. His face was Alan's -- barring many more scars and the look of having faced much more. "Mistress..." His voice was breathy.. as if he had not expected such emotion in her eyes. "You.. have never looked at me that way before.." If the battleworn Ah'Lahn could blush, he'd be red.. but without a doubt, he knew this was not his Mistress. His Mistress did not show her love so openly. He reached out his hand to brush against Talia's cheek. Her eyes widened and her breath caught.. (~Alan.. I'm going to kill you for the affect you have on me~) She thought to herself.. (~If you're alive when I find you, that is..~) Talia was drawn almost completely.. it was then she saw the flash of a dagger in Ah'Lahn's hand. She roughly pushed him back.. she tried to amplify the push with Air, but she found Saidar had escaped her grasped.. more like she ran into a wall when she reached for the female half of the One Power. Talia glared.. she was shielded. "What are you doing?!" She snarled.. she hoped it was Taria-like. "Drop the act.. I know why we're all here, and you.. are not the Mistress. The connection between us is too small.. and you are too nice." (~Too nice? I yell at him and I'm too nice?!~) Talia was quickly running out of ideas. Her heart ached too much for her to take offensive. Ah'Lahn just looked too much like her beloved Alan. The sounds of battle echoed in the night. The members of the Black Tower she had seen just a while ago seemed to have run into the very Myrdraal that threatened herself in the shadows. Talia gulped as her mind raced for an answer to Ah'Lahn's accusation. Her pulse raced.. she felt someone or something approach her from behind. In the reflection of Ah'Lahn's eyes, she could see that it was a Trolloc. (~I hate Trollocs.. you'd think the Dark One could be more imaginative with his Shadowspawn.~) Without even thinking of the consequences, Talia swung around with her two daggers and aimed a dual swipe at the thing's neck. With a howl the creature fell to its death at her feet. "Why fight your fate, imposter?" Came Alan's voice.. despoiled by the sneering hatred within Ah'Lahn. "You cannot destroy every one of the Great Lord's creations that will come for you this night..." "Shea? "Shea!" called a man's voice.. a familiar voice. Well, Talia wasn't Shea, but she hoped that this one was actually a good Tower member and that he would come soon. Talia didn't think she could take Ah'Lahn and the Myrdraal with lurking presences. Slowly turning so that she might face Ah'Lahn directly.. she clutched her twin daggers with knuckles so white. "Your evil taints the loving image of your double. For that alone, I would kill you." She gave up the pretense.. He knew, and now she was probably going to die for it. "But you are more than just an warped version of my love.." Talia said through gritted teeth, "you're a dead man walking." With firm resolve, Talia readied herself for a fight to the death.. "Shea?" Talia heard the man call out.. closer this time. Much closer, as if he were just a few yards behind her. "Talia?" the voice sounded like Mura'shar, and she hoped it was not another evil doppleganger. She dare not turn around.. "Alan? What are you two doing here?" "Do you see that, Mistress Taria?" Ah'Lahn's eyes flashed dangerously, "He thinks we are his friends. How about we give them a welcoming gift.." The Myrdraal that had remained near Ah'Lahn all looked toward Mura'shar.. Talia glared at Ah'Lahn. "Only oathbreaking pigs like you could lie so easily, Darkfriend! You bring shame and dishonor to Alan's face! I'll have your hide for my water skin!" And then the Trollocs came forth from the shadows.. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~TTT~
Talia Daimar, Dragonsworn
<><

 Caballein collapsed against the wall of the small dark closet in which he was held as the door swung shut and another session with Shay came ot an end. Pain was the whole of his world, pain imagined by Shay and brought into being by the Power alone, pain of every kind which had ever been felt in the physical world and some which existed only in the twisted regions of the evil Dragonsworn's mind, pain which left no mark on the flesh but burned its way into the soul, and scarred, scarred deeply, perhaps unhealably. And then there were those brief moments when she allowed the pain to end and pleasure took its place, pleasure stimulated sometimes by the Power and sometimes by her own hand - or other body part - pleasure enough to make him want her, no matter that he knew that her innocent face and youthful body housed an evil which rivaled that of Semirhage herself, no matter that he knew the pleasure was a tool to manipulate him as much as was the pain, no matter that within moments the pleasure was gone and replaced by pain once again, and there was nothing left to feel but but pain, and hate.. And pain was so close to pleasure... The closet was very dark. Only when his eyes had had long durations of time to adjust could he make out the walls which enclosed him in the miniscule amount of light which came through the thin cracks around the edges of the door. There was barely enough room in its space to sit, let alone to walk, and he was left with nothing to occupy his mind save to remember Shay's tortures and anticipate those in the future. Sometimes he remembered the time before the tortures began - had there been such a time? His memory held only a few days, but surely there had been more, much more, an eternity more - and wondered what had become of the remainder of the Tower, wondered if they would find him, or if they were doomed to be condemned to torture as well. Sometimes he thought of Marena, and of Morana. How long had he waited in the closet this time? How could he track the passing hours in total darkness? How long before she would come for him again? How long before he was taken to the M'hael as Marena had promised; how long before he was mercifully allowed to die? No need to wonder how long. Time no longer had any meaning - could have any meaning - for him. Just wait. Wait. The door opened, the light burned into his eyes. The figure silhouetted in the light reached for him, hands cool to the touch reached for him and pulled him from the closet, his skin prickled with the feel of saidar, then pain.. pain.. * * * Damallein hurried down the streets of the city. There was no need to be away from Marena and the rest of the Tower for any longer than necessary, even though she did recognize that he had a tendency to wander off inexplicably. It was fortunate that she and the Tower accepted that as merely another personality quirk, arising from a need to be alone or some such; he needed the time to communicate with those he served. He could not allow them to find out, of course; even Marena, who held in him a level of trust which was generally considered to be dangerous, would have killed him in an instant. For that matter, anywhere on the continent he would have been torn apart by a mob had his allegiances been known. This Tower of Lightfriends which had invaded their world intrigued him. How had the history of their world unfolded so that the Dragon had remained under the hand of the Light? His mind found it impossible to imagine what the past three thousand years of history would have been without the Forsaken to rule over it. Perhaps he should have found a way to convince Marena to hold his double in their own quarters; the information the man had was certain to be fascinating, and the M'hael was unlikely to release anything gleaned from his own interrogation. Perhaps Shay could be convinced to reveal what she learned from the captive. In her hands, the man would undoubtedly have revealed anything he had ever known or thought he knew. If he had been coherent enough to speak, that is. He was still musing on this when he felt a shield slip between him and the Source and a club of Air strike him on the head.

 Ariana looked back over her shoulder toward where she'd left her
unconscious
double.  That was an impulsive and completely stupid thing to do, she
chastised herself.  Running off at the first hint that the woman might
be
around, then leaving her alive.  But at least, she tried to appease her
conscience, the anti-Healer wouldn't regain consciousness until
tomorrow.
Ariana'd made very sure of that, by a minor weave and a love-tap with
her
staff.  Now all she had to do was get back to...whereever...her own
Tower
was.  Looking around, she gave a mental snort.  Right.  "All" I have to
do.  M
ore than ever she was regretting her impetuous outburst.  How was she
to find
one group of people scattered through this heap of a dead city and
manage to
avoid the evil ones?
A distant sound, but very familiar, warned her of conflict- steel rang
against steel no more than a street or two away.  "What now?" the
Healer
wondered aloud, and grimaced.  She was growing very, very sick of this
alternative Rhuidean, with its nasty evil Tower and reddish light and
unsettling surprises.  She began to hope that she would find her Tower
quickly.
Unfortunately, what she found- or rather, what found her- wasn't from
her
Tower.  At least, I hope not!  A very ugly goat--nosed Trolloc regarded
the
Healer with surprise, and was joined by another, with a dirty
bear-muzzled,
furry face and another, with the scaly face of a lizard and the hands
of a
man but covered in green-yellow scales.    Ariana went immediately on
the
defensive, but realized there might be another way to get through this
situation.  She straightened her spine and glared at all the hideous,
misshapen things.  "Where are the others?" she demanded curtly.  At
Goat-Face's confused look, she snapped, "The Tower, fool!"  The
Trolloc, all
eight feet of him, cringed.  My, who- what- was my double, that
Trollocs
feared her anger?  A gesture from The Lizard pointed the general
direction,
and the fearsome creature made what could possibly be interpreted as a
bow.
Ariana started to stalk toward the camp; then she realized that the
Trollocs
were not following.  "Well?" she snarled at them impatiently, trying to
copy
the glare she'd seen her 'twin' use during their exchange of insults.
"My
apologies, lady," came the voice of The Lizard, "but we are to hunt the
Lightfriends."  The words were in a garble of Trolloc and human speech.
Bless
 those long hours in the library.  The Healer wished she had a throwing
dagger- or six.  On the one hand, she didn't; she couldn't kill these
creatures, not with these odds and with her still tired from battling
her
double.  One way did occur to her to remove these three from the
hunting,
though; she could take them off the trail of her friends, if she
commanded
them to escort her.  The mere thought of Trollocs following her made
her
spine crawl.  Still, it would get them out of the city and remove three
hunters- especially The Lizard, who seemed to actually have more than
the
average intelligence.  "You will come with me," she ordered briefly,
and
gestured.  Like frightened puppies, they followed her.  Only The Lizard
dared
to comment further.  "Mistress, you limp.  Are you injured?"  The
unholy mix
of language was difficult to understand, but when she'd deciphered the
question, Ariana nearly had a heart attack.  Oh, Light!  What to say?
Curse
every Oath Rod ever made!!  She managed a dismissive gesture.  "I
encountered
my double," she said tersely.  The Lizard proved its intelligence by
not
questioning further.  Though outwardly calm, Ariana's mind churned as
she
walked.  She was being escorted by Trollocs to the enemy, only they
thought
she was one of them.  This was, without doubt, the riskiest thing she'd
ever
tried to pull off, in all her years of Towers and Whitecloaks.  But
oddly
enough, the thought of the latter actually calmed her an iota.  If
she'd
managed to escape Amadicia, she could get out of this.  Light, I'm
comforted a
t the thought of Whitecloaks?  I must be in trouble!  Still, she had at
least
the walk to the others to think about what to do.
OK, this was completely uninspired, but i realized i've only done one
RP this
month so far, and next week is vacation, so i'd better get going!
Anyway,
here's ari's wonderful spur-of-the-moment idea to get in... hope it
works!
~Aloha!  Erin

 The group's encounter with the Shadowspawn only made it clearer that
they had much more to contend with than the Others.  The Game had
advanced a notch and the Dark One was in it for certain.  Not a one of them
but thought that if they ever expected to see the Black Tower again …
their Black Tower, they would have to out think, out wit, and out fight
the members of the other Tower and the Trollocs and Myrdraal that did
their bidding.  Half the group was either unarmed or poorly armed and as
looks passed among them, each realized that the fight would soon turn to
the One Power despite the poor odds of their survival once their
channeling identified the group's location like a beacon.

Brushing a stray hair out of her eyes, La'rece grinned as she walked
along with Myiona behind Mura'shar and the others.  Here was a real
enemy.  Fightable.  Killable.  They were outnumbered, true, but they would
not be caught unawares again.  Now they would be the hunters.  Now the
Black Tower would dictate the chase.

Myiona looked at La'rece and noticed her dark humor.  "What?!" the
First asked her friend.

La'rece fingered her sword and winked.  "Good day for it!"

Though they had both been members of the Green Ajah, the battle ajah,
and had fought numerous enemies together, Myiona looked at the Arafellan
as though she had never seen her before.  The woman was excited about
the potential conflict; looking forward to it, in fact.  Light! She's as
bad as some of the Soldiers!  But the First was also keenly aware of
the other Dragonsworn's bitterness over the departure of her bondmates.
Perhaps the stress of their current mission added to that of Ivan and
Janara leaving had pushed La'rece over the edge.

Myiona, lost in her own thoughts, almost jumped out of her skin when
La'rece said softly, "Be easy, Myiona. I see the look in your eyes.  I'm
not crazy … just anxious to have done with this whole group.  Back
there … earlier …"

The First watched La'rece as the Arafellan's voice trailed off, her
eyes seeing something remembered.  Myiona wondered what … or rather who
La'rece had encountered before she had returned.

Mura'shar halted the group with a hand signal.  They had found the
Other's camp...

Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 After the fight, Aramis went searching for Alcinia who had disappeared sometime during the battle. He did not seem overly concerned, so she probably had come to no harm. When they returned, the group moved out again, heading for the camp of the other Black Tower. Myiona walked behind Mura'shar along with La'rece. The two women seemed more alike than different, and it surprised the Domani to find someone she could like so much. She was not one for idle friendships. Myiona could appear to be everyone's friend, but she rarely let anyone close. Tareena had been one, but the Seanchan believed her capable of cold blooded murder. She shook her head sadly. At La'rece's smile and statement that it was "a good day for it," Myiona could not help but wonder at the other's woman's level of sanity. Still, they all had to throw their futures to the wind often by engaging in these little trips. Though she would never admit it to anyone, she did enjoy the excitement and the thrill of the danger. It made her feel more alive. La'rece had a strange glint in her eye that made Myiona wonder what she had been up to while she was on her own and who she had met that had given her such a desire for revenge. She could understand that, because dealing with the two soldiers who were trying to kill both her and Tareena had not left her in thousands of pieces. Instead, she found a strange satisfaction at taking care of herself for once. Mura'shar halted the group at the edge of the camp. Slowly they wove their way through the almost eerily silent place to the tent of the other Myiona. They hoped that the other had gone to parts unknown to deal with Mera'shar. Still, they took no chances. It would be safe to channel in this room since the other probably did so frequently. The tent was warded and they sat down to consider their next options. "I think," Mura'shar said, "we should take a chance by contacting Stevan. If he has successfully infiltrated the camp, we could use that to our advantage. I will be the one to go since my double apparently carries some weight here." Myiona quickly asserted herself. "No," she said firmly, "we will both go. I am not leaving you alone in case she comes back. She would like to get her hands on you again and I will not let her." Her eyes were hard, like two black opals, as she remembered what had been done to her bondmate.
Vicky
aka Myiona

 ....Darran looked up the walls to see what places would be good for leaping off of. Suddenly, Rengar said, "Wait!" Darran stopped and listened. Behind him, Rengar dreaded the answer he might receive. "How is it going? Are my people...?" Darran recalled everything he had seen - his fight against Darren; Mera'shar and Myiona defeated, though they were outnumbered; the gigantic crater, almost certainly bad news; a few dead bodies. After a pause, he replied, "It's a hard battle. Neither side seems to have taken many losses, though I hardly know everything." {{Not exactly the truth. Their side is winning this, though slowly}} Rengar relaxed. If the Tower was aware of the danger, they could win. But so could the other tower. By the time he looked up, Darran was gone. **** Darran, still thinking that Darren was somewhere in a castle in Seachan-held lands in Darren's own world and not in this one, still aware that they were only an even match with sword, and thus still looking for Mera'shar so he could pull a favor and get some help taking Darren down, arrived back in his own camp to check and see if his contacts had found Mera'shar and arranged anything. Unlike some others, he had a few contacts everyone knew about, so he could get basic news quickly - and some few if anyone did. Darran went to one of the open ones first. and he said: "Myiona and Mera'shar faced their counterparts, and lost." "I know that. I got there for the end, too late to change anything. Anyway, they were outnumbered." "Myiona has put Mera'shar under compulsion, but they got orders, along with EVERYONE else, to take out the other tower." "Then what are you doing here?" "Well, we haven't left yet. We sent out trolloc patrols to find them all. But there's more! It seems... that Myiona's and Mera'shar's counterparts.. well it looks like it, at any rate..." "They're in love?" "Yeah. I wouldn't fall in love with a ten foot pole." Darren agreed, joking off of the mixed metaphor. "Yes, I prefer women for that sort of thing. Poles are somewhat... wooden." His informant was by now immune to this sort of comment. "They totally let down their guard against each other... It would be so funny if Mera'shar, or better yet, Myiona, had gotten switched with the other... They turn to face each other, fall into each others' arms..." he made a grotesque amorous charicature and then feigned astonishment and death. "A knife in the gut. The irony!" Darren didn't think it was funny. "Don't joke about that kind of thing." "Oh, come on, it would.. erk!" His feet dangled a foot above the floor. Darren stared into his now ex-informant's terrified eyes, and said, "Don't joke about that kind of thing!" Darran threw him to the ground and stalked off. **** No one was in the square. There was nothing particularly interesting about it. But Darran stared down from his perch on a rooftop, and shivered despite the heat. {{Why was it so necessary?}} Impressions burned into him played out of order - a blood-soaked dagger, a slight itch of a concealed weapon, a grotesque disbelieving expression, a passionate kiss and embrace. A _true_ passionate kiss and embrace. And a later one, one which turned into an assassination. Darran stood, angry at himself. He forced himself to believe he was angry at his own stupidity in opening that floodgate of guilt, one which could make his loyalty to the Great Lord waver, and invite terrible retribution. He stood, and shivered, this time from the cold. In a few seconds the tears of sorrow were mixed with the tears of looking directly into a thirty mile an hour wind as he resumed his rooftop dash, now not searching for Mera'shar but hunting. Or was it running?
Luke
Darren/Darran
Bondmate of Tareena

 It could be said that looking into the eyes of a killer could send chills down your spine. Those chills coursed through Talia's own back and throughout her body -- except not only because the man before her was a killer, but because of the face this killer and Darkfriend wore. The face of her love and bondmate Alan. With her daggers ready, she made a resolution that if she were to live through this mission, she was going to find Alan and make him sorry he left her.. and then she'd kiss him all over to make up for the hurt. "Go ahead then, Darkfriend," Talia said through gritted teeth as the approaching Lightfriends fought Trollocs and Myrdraal behind her, "Kill me.. I swear I'll not be as merciful to you as I was to your Mistress Taria." Ah'Lahn blinked.. it almost seemed as if he were blinking back tears. Quite unbefitting the stereotype of most Darkfriends.. "You're lying.." Ah'Lahn narrowed his eyes in anger. "Where do you think I got this, vile one?" Talia almost spat when she was speaking to him. He disgusted her. She held out the pain ter'angreal that had once been in Taria's possession. "Your Mistress used it to cause pain to a friend of mine.. and now I will use it to cause pain on you.." Talia didn't intend on carrying out that threat. She knew how dangerous it was to play with objects of power she knew little about. Ah'Lahn's breathing became erratic as he became pained from the thought his Mistress might be dead. "I'm not through with you, Lightfriend.." He cursed a few more words before he managed to push her back with a shake of Earth.. and he disappeared into the shadows.. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Talia?" Talia blinked.. rubbing the side of her head that had been knocked. "Wh-what?" Her vision was blurred.. all she could see were two women.. "Shh.. we're right outside their camp.." Talia rubbed her eyes.. When her vision recovered, Talia could see that it was La'rece and Alcinia.. and Aramis was on his knees a bit behind the two women. She blinked and sat up -- her head swimming. Talia whispered softly, "Where's Mura'shar?" She was sure it had been Mura'shar who had met her while she confronted Ah'Lahn. "He and Myiona are in the camp.." answered Alcinia in her quiet voice. Talia blinked, quite surprised. The camp.. "What in the Light are they doing?" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Trying to get back into it again *LOL* if I stepped on anyone's toes, please feel free to edit my post to your needs...
T
<><

 It could be said that looking into the eyes of a killer could send chills down your spine. Those chills coursed through Talia's own back and throughout her body -- except not only because the man before her was a killer, but because of the face this killer and Darkfriend wore. The face of her love and bondmate Alan. With her daggers ready, she made a resolution that if she were to live through this mission, she was going to find Alan and make him sorry he left her.. and then she'd kiss him all over to make up for the hurt. "Go ahead then, Darkfriend," Talia said through gritted teeth as the approaching Lightfriends fought Trollocs and Myrdraal behind her, "Kill me.. I swear I'll not be as merciful to you as I was to your Mistress Taria." Ah'Lahn blinked.. it almost seemed as if he were blinking back tears. Quite unbefitting the stereotype of most Darkfriends.. "You're lying.." Ah'Lahn narrowed his eyes in anger. "Where do you think I got this, vile one?" Talia almost spat when she was speaking to him. He disgusted her. She held out the pain ter'angreal that had once been in Taria's possession. "Your Mistress used it to cause pain to a friend of mine.. and now I will use it to cause pain on you.." Talia didn't intend on carrying out that threat. She knew how dangerous it was to play with objects of power she knew little about. Ah'Lahn's breathing became erratic as he became pained from the thought his Mistress might be dead. "I'm not through with you, Lightfriend.." He cursed a few more words before he managed to push her back with a shake of Earth.. and he disappeared into the shadows.. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Talia?" Talia blinked.. rubbing the side of her head that had been knocked. "Wh-what?" Her vision was blurred.. all she could see were two women.. "Shh.. we're right outside their camp.." Talia rubbed her eyes.. When her vision recovered, Talia could see that it was La'rece and Alcinia.. and Aramis was on his knees a bit behind the two women. She blinked and sat up -- her head swimming. Talia whispered softly, "Where's Mura'shar?" She was sure it had been Mura'shar who had met her while she confronted Ah'Lahn. "He and Myiona are in the camp.." answered Alcinia in her quiet voice. Talia blinked, quite surprised. The camp.. "What in the Light are they doing?" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Trying to get back into it again *LOL* if I stepped on anyone's toes, please feel free to edit my post to your needs...
T
<><

 They moved slowly through the shadows, each trying to remain unseen. For all of their stealth, it seemed that no one was guarding the campsite of the other Black Tower. "I hear something," Alcinia whispered and everyone froze. "It is far enough away that we should be safe. I want to go check it out though. I will be right back." Alcinia was off and slipping through the shadows quickly. When she was close to the sound, the thief dropped low to the ground and crept forward. Beyond the tents, a gathering of the members of the others was in progress. She listened to the orders given and hurried back to tell her friends.
 
  Mura'shar was confused. He had never met Talia or Alan's doubles, yet he was certain that this Dragonsworn before him was Talia. But the way Alan was speaking, he may have been mistaken. Mura'shar kept his sword ready was held himself on the brink of seizing saidin. If they were Darkfriends, he was in a spot of trouble indeed. "Talia was arguing with "Alan". When the words "Darkfriend" and "Lightfriend" were used, he knew who was who. Talia was Talia and Alan was...someone else. Talia was brandishing a ter'angreal and a clearly shaken Alan was backing off. Mura'shar went to assist her. This was no time to be wandering Ruhidean alone. He sensed saidin being channeled just as a wave of Earth rent the ground before him. Talia was struck down by a piece of debris. Mura'shar draped a shield of Air around them both. He waited out the quake in silence, hoping the flow of the One Power would only bring allies. His friends soon found him, led by Aramis. "What happened?" he asked as he cast a suspicious look at the unconscious Talia. "It's really Talia" Mura'shar told him "She was attacked by Alan's duplicate. Is she all right?" La'rece had bent down to examine her, risking a bit of saidar for delving and a bit of healing. No broken bones, no concussion, she's not bleeding inside. She will be fine with rest. Though she will have a headache when she awakens" She frowned "I wish we knew where Shea was. She had an interest in Healing. And a Talent, I believe." Mura'shar frowned. Apparently, no one else had found Shea either, though Alcinia had been found. He didn't want to think of the implications Shea's disappearance might mean. "Aramis, I think you were right. We need to attack the Others" he said. "Shadowspawn changes everything. Before we were roughly even in strength. We could afford to skulk about and strike from a distance. Trollocs and Myrdraal changes all that. They may be in the process of moving an entire army here." Everyone else nodded. They had reached the same conclusion. Leaving Talia was out of the question. Nor could anyone be spared to bring her back to camp. Dividing their forces was equally foolish. So a makeshift litter was built and she was carried along. Mura'shar led them to the camp of the other Black Tower. With Alcinia's help, they managed to reach it unnoticed. Mura'shar and Myiona slipped in while the rest waited outside the camp with Talia. Carrying her in would be simply too risky. They finally located Myiona's tent, which was strangely empty. They entered it and placed wards around it so they could plot uninterrupted. "I think we should take a chance and try to contact Steven" he announced "If he has successfully infiltrated the camp, we could use that to our advantage. I will be the one to go since my double apparently carries some weight here." At least, he hoped he did. If Myiona hadn't completely subverted his position. The fact that Mera'shar wasn't in the tent being "trained" was a hopeful sign. Myiona didn't like that plan, however "No," she said firmly, "we will both go. I am not leaving you alone in case she comes back. She would like to get her hands on you again and I will not let her." Myiona was clearly not going to back down. Her dark eyes held a look of defiance Mura'shar had rarely seen. He was strangely relieved to see it. He was dreading the concept of wandering this camp alone, knowing what was in store for him if he was caught. But he wasn't going to ask anyone else to take that risk. He touched Myiona's hand and smiled. "Very well" he said. We'll both go." Myiona quickly changed into one of her double's black dresses, since any other outfit risked drawing suspicion. Then they headed towards what they hoped would be Stevan's tent. It was not long before they were spotted. An Asha'man whom Mura'shar recognized as part of Mera'shar's faction almost bumped into them in his haste. He gaped at the two of them and stammered "M...m...mm...Mera'shar! Sir, I thought you would be" he saw Myiona and his eyes narrowed in suspicion. When he sensed him seizing saidin, Mura'shar shielded him and hoisted him into the air. "And what do you think you are doing Asha'man...Jerome?" Mura'shar finally recalled his name. A particularly vile young man always trying to curry favor. "You are with Myiona? Then it's true that she..." Jerome's eyes were wide with confusion. Mura'shar cut him off, thinking fast. "She's not that Myiona, you nitwit! She's the other one, from the other world. I captured her!" Mura'shar kicked himself internally. A bonded Mera'shar would never have tried to protect Myiona. So he had to play his part his racing mind latched onto. Hating himself for it, he kicked Myiona's legs out from under her, sending her tumbling to the ground. "Show proper respect for an Asha'man and bow, my pretty" he snarled, hoping it sounded convincing. Myiona seemed to understand and played the part, cowering before Jerome. He was going to hear about this later, he knew. He patted her head like he would a dog's, as he had seen others do to their bondmates. "She's not quite trained yet, I fear" Jerome was impressed. "An excellent choice, Mera'shar. Beautiful. Is she Green? Is your collection complete now?" "She was Green. But now I have to find another Red. Naden is dead" Mura'shar's face twisted in hatred. Hatred for what he was doing now, for what this Tower had done to himself and others. He hoped it was misinterpreted as anger over a collection damaged just as it was completed. Jerome looked sympathetic "Don't worry, the Reds are always trying to start a crusade against us. You'll get another one, I'm sure" "Yes, I'm sure I will. Now get back to your duties" The role was starting to make him ill. Once Jerome left, Mura'shar helped Myiona to her feet. "I think we should reach Stevan quickly" he said quietly "Before we meet someone who would require a greater show of cruelty to convince them of our identities"
Jake
Marked Asha'man

 Myiona agreed that finding Stevan quickly was necessary. If he knocked her down one more time, she was not sure she could control her temper. She was supposed to be totally cowed and gentled, like that would ever happen. She sniffed disdainfully at the lack of backbone of the women in this tower. As they walked through the dark camp, the sound of noise could be heard ahead of them. A huge group was gathered around one of the tents. Someone stood giving orders at the center, and she could almost swear it was Stevan. "I think we've found him," she said softly touching Mura'shar's arm. She allowed him to lead and followed a few paces behind, unsure if she should act as the other Myiona or herself.

 La'rece looked around the tent. It did not take long to observe that
this was definitely not the residence of Myiona ... the real Myiona.

That's the only way the Arafellan could think of her friends. These
Others were ... unreal, in some fashion. As though they were all too real
reflections of a darker part of themselves. A waking nightmare.

The Dragonsworn rolled her shoulders working out the tension that
accompanied the type of operation they were now running. They could not risk
open confrontation with the Others until they determined the enemy's
full strength, in numbers including shadowspawn. Everyone present knew
full well that it was simply a matter of time before one of the forsaken
showed up to lend assistance. La'rece idly wondered if the Forsaken
from the Others' world were the very same as the Forsaken in their's.

As they waited for Mura'shar and Myiona to return from their foray,
Aramis, Alcinia and La'rece discussed where they might find Shea. No one
considered the possibility that the young woman might be dead. It was
unacceptable. They would find her ... and the rest, deal with the Others
in such a way that none would threaten their world again, and go home
... to the Black Tower in their world.

Talia slept for the most part, exhausted from the Healing that had been
required after her run in with Alan's Other. La'rece missed the young
man who was one of the first people, along with Ivan Gregorian, that she
had encountered from the Black Tower. So long ago, so many battles lay
between that fateful afternoon and this day ...

And here they were again, on the verge of battle once more. Outnumbered
and in most regards, cornered. It was a familiar scene and one the
Arafellan felt oddly comfortable with ... they were the Black Tower after
all and it was time for a reckoning. This time it would be the darker,
evil Black Tower that paid the fiddler ...

Conversation outside the tent caught the Dragonsworn's attention.
La'rece gestured for everyone to be silent a moment as she listened to
familiar voices in conversation outside the back of the tent ...

OOC: I threw in the last part so that anyone who needs to (or would
like to) hook up with the rest of us can do so now ... just have us
(Aramis, Alcinia, Talia or La'rece) recognize your voice and come out and
grab you to join us inside while we wait for Mura'shar and Myiona's return
... or not. :P

Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 Darran dropped like a stone, and the man beneath him died. He stood up, and was about to leap back to the rooftops the realization that he was not alone pulled him out of his introspective daze. {{These are lesser soldiers of the other tower... I should be able to take them if I can move quickly.}} His expectation was quickly violated, as he ran into a wall of air made by several of them linked. That stopped him short, but he did not give up. He pushed. However, the wall was strong, and the dirt he was standing on gave way first. He stared at them. Frightened people, some young, two older than he. But they were standing their ground. That cut into his ferocity somewhat. Darran felt the weaves wrap around him, trying to bind him up. {{That I can deal with}}. He slowly worked them with earth, waiting until they were hardened and brittle, much like air is not, before cracking them open. He could feel them trying to cut him off from the source, but they were not strong enough in spirit to have a real chance at that. In the mean time, one of the men broke out of the circle and examined his fallen comrade. Darran was confident that the man was dead, and this time he was right. He couldn't hear what the others were saying through the deadening blanket of air around him. but he could see they were not pleased with him in the least. Darran wasn't worried, though, since his earth had done its business... He focused all of his power into pulling. In one short sharp snap, he was free. One quick leap later, he was freer, back on the rooftops. {{I must be thinking of all underlings as trolloc-like... they were an even match or better! Next time I'm going to make sure I find a target I can survive!}} A moment later, though, he was dwelling on his guilt. **** Tareena continued, "I have to find her. For all of our sakes. I want to believe that there is a reasonable explanation to this. Right now, I can't afford to not find her. Don't you see?" Darren tried to work out how Tareena knew that this wasn't some alternate-tower trick. he couldn't find a way. But then he realized that she wasn't condemning Myiona, merely being suspicious. And for that, it was a worthy task either way... or was it? After a few seconds of resumed walking, he asked, "How do you know which way to go? You said she's not in camp. The only other place of note is the enemy camp and if she's there I am not inclined to stalk her in. Aside from those two, we don't really have knowledge of any specific places, so we're just combing. Right?" Tareena nodded. "So we have to move quickly in order to find anything at all." "Right. Just a moment, ok?" Darren disappeared into one of the buildings. **** Darran spotted a lone person several blocks away. He closed in, jumping along the middle line of the building rather than along the street so she wouldn't see him. And there he was, directly above her. {{I can't tell which tower she's from from here... better get an angle before I strike.}} Having backed off a little, Darren peered down again. A sharp whisper - "Light!" Transfixed, he put away his sword. Disbelieving, he dropped silently to the ground. She was still there. He walked closer, recognizing her even from the rear. She called out his name. That did it - Darran stopped, and trembled. {{Am I in a bubble of the great lord? Is this a test of my loyalty? Is this a phantom? Has the great lord remade her?}} Unable to resist, Darran crept closer. His vision became distorted by tears, but drying his eyes was the furthest thing from his mind. Ten feet, five feet, he was there, holding his breath lest the ghost disappear in the wind. She happened to glance to her side, and saw Darran directly behind her. As she leapt away in terror, Darran lunged forward, unwilling to have her flee, and having the greatest fear of all, that fear that you strike fear into those you love. He caught hold of her wrist, pressed his forehead into it. "I'm so sorry, I'm sorry..." Though confused, she stopped being terrified and tried to calm him. "What? You startled me. Not a big..." Unhearing, he had continued, "Please forgive me, Tare." "Of cour... DARREN GET OUT HERE!" Darran's head snapped up. "I'm right..." He gasped in chagrin. {{How can I have been such a moron?}} the question of what Darren was doing in this world did not even enter his mind. {{But the opportunity! I never killed her. I can have her again... A second chance?}} Darren skidded to a halt feet away. With deadly seriousness, he growled, "Let go of her!" The deliberation with which he drew his knife masked its relative irrelevance to Darran's great sword. Darran ignored him. Tareena yanked her hand free, and stood back a little. Darran, still half-kneeling from his supplication, looked up at them, closed his eyes, and collapsed. Darren let out his breath. "Tareena?" "He just came out of nowhere... it was the oddest thing, looking at him..." "You're ok, though?" Tareena nodded.

 Stevan looked at them oddly and then went on with his orders. They only caught the end of what he was saying, but it seemed that he had lost his ability to think logically. After the others were dismissed, he pointed to his tent and motioned for them to go ahead of them. Myiona quickly found herself bound by air and shielded. She looked over and saw the same had happened to Mura'shar. She was almost positive this was their Stevan, but was not sure. Neither wanted to tip their hand and expose themselves as pretenders. The Domani took a deep breath, knowing that she was the only one that would take this risk. "Stevan," she said quickly, "I hope that you are the one who follows the side of light. I am Myiona Shallon of the Green Ajah and I need your aid. Tell me who did we take back to the Tower after our mission to the Island." Stevan looked warily between her and Mura'shar. "A girl we found who had no parents. What was her name?" "Her name is Skree," Myiona responded, "and how did we meet her." They continued asking and answering questions for several minutes. Myiona found her bonds released, but Mura'shar was still bound. Her ploy had worked. If they had been the others she wanted Mura'shar to be trusted. With a smile she said, "You should probably release Mura'shar as well, though I am tempted to make him stand there after the bruises I received when he knocked me down." As trust had been restored, the four sat down and contrived a battle plan to wipe out the other tower. Stevan would sow discord and confusion from inside. Mura'shar was to lead an attack from one side of the camp. Aramis and Alcinia would go back to the camp and try to lead an attack from the other side. The only difficulty lay in not knowing who had infiltrated their camp, but she hoped that Alcinia's natural distrust would work in their favor. As much time as she spent watching others, she should know most of the secrets of everyone in the tower. A few minutes later, Mura'shar led her back to the tent where the others waited. They explained the plan to the others and sent Aramis and Alcinia back to camp.

 Rengar wasn't sure if the person standing right in front of him now was from this dimension of not, but at this point he wouldn't have cared if it was the Dark One himself standing in front of him at that moment. In any case, the person who was standing in front of him did look like the Darren he had known for quite a while now in the Black Tower. But after the discovery that he had made in the pit concerning Dengar, he knew that it was dangerous to take anything he saw from here on in at face value. But Rengar immediately knew that the man who had joined them in this deep pit was not Darren, but his counterpart in this dimension. After all, Rengar doubted that anyone knew who Dengar was, but that was the name that this Darren used to address him as soon as the two were facing one another. "Why haven't you killed him?" the doppelganger asked Dengar, when he realized that the man he had first laid eyes upon was not the man who he had thought. "I would surely need his help in getting to the surface," Dengar said with a cruel smile, facing an emotionless Rengar. "Not that you seem to be taking advantage of it," the other Darren noticed as he looked around the pit, which had become slightly better lit now that the sun's angle in the sky had increased. The rest of what the two men said to each other was lost to Rengar's ears, for what was going through his mind at that moment was a plan. These two men seemed to think that they could easily overpower Rengar if he decided to struggle against them, and their confidence was probably well grounded. Then again, the two did not seem to care much about one another or know much about one another, so maybe... "Wait!" Rengar said, just as "Darran" was about to Travel out of the pit. That had been something that neither Rengar and Dengar had been able to do during their time in the pit, since they had spent most of their time together with one man shielding the other. But since Darran had entered the scene that balance of power had shifted, so that Rengar was know the only one being shielded. But if his plan worked, that wouldn't matter all that much. At least, he hoped it didn't. "How is it going? Are my people?" "It's a hard battle. Neither side seems to have taken many losses, though I hardly know everything," Darran said, stepping into the travelgate he had made for himself. Light, a great help I've been to my Tower, stuck in this pit for who knows how long! Rengar thought, his frustration flaring up as he realized the his Tower could very well have been wiped out by now, by the infiltration by the other Tower. No time to worry about that now, though. I'll tend to that once I get out of here. After Darran left it was just Rengar and Dengar, and Rengar knew that there would never be a better time to catch his double off guard than at this moment. Quickly he brought his fist against the other man's head, knocking him out with greater ease than he had believed it would have taken. Afterwards, he immediately wove a Mask of Mirrors to make himself look like his counterpart, and then proceeded to Travel out of the Pit. My Tower's encampment should be a fine place to go, if it hasn't already been taken over by the people of this other Tower, Rengar thought as he stepped through the portal he had opened for himself. In any event, I hope that I will only have to use this guise for a short time, until I figure out exactly what had been going on while I have been in here. I only hope that I can still be of use to my friends. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sorry this took so long, Luke and everybody else. This was one of those RPs that you try to sit down and write, but the words just don't come very easily. Oh well, maybe some of you know what I'm talking about. I guess you could say that my muse took an extended leave of absensce. Anyhow, here it is, finally, so I hope everyone enjoys what little there is to digest here.
Kyle

 Talia rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she did the single most annoying thing she ever encountered in her life: Nothing. Waiting always bugged her, and she hoped never to have to wait for anything again. Yet, here she was, with other members of the Light-fearing Black Tower, waiting for news from Myiona and Mura'shar. She would have argued with those she waited with; she was that irritable. Why did they bother Healing such a simple head wound? Why did they wait while Myiona and Mura'shar put themselves in danger? It was all too aggravating for Talia. As she waited, Talia took out her daggers. The blades danced about her fingers with practiced ease. She not only did this to occupy her time as they waited, but she did it also to distract herself from the overwhelming feeling of loss. Oh, she knew it was nothing compared to the bond breaking.. but to feel the bond stretch so far between her and Alan was emotional as well as mental torture. The longer this mission took, the farther away Alan became. Talia winced as one of her blades cut one of her fingers. (~Never let a man get between a woman and her duty..~) Talia sighed softly.. Then, she heard something. La'rece did, too. Talia grabbed her daggers by the handles and held them ready. She was prepared to do what must be done should these be unfriendly intruders.. but they fortunately turned out to be Myiona and Mura'shar. Talia let a small sigh of relief escape between her teeth. Listening carefully to what they had to say and the orders given by Stevan, Talia pursed her lips as she considered what was to be done. After the two Lightfriends left for their own camp, Talia spoke to those left. "Fight bravely and cautiously, I believe we all know they have a variety of things and an abundance of knowledge that we don't." Talia probably warned them needlessly.. but she just had to say something. Talia held the ter'angreal in her hands that her double had owned.. if only she knew how to use it. She absently wondered where Ah'Lahn ran off to.. and if she would have to confront him again soon. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Mistress?" The slightly shaky voice that could have been Alan's spoke to the still form in red leather. He had Healed her as best he could, but she had bled for so long. Would she be alright? "Ah'Lahn.." Her tired and weak voice shook slightly as she opened her eyes. "Ah'Lahn.. where is my ter'angreal?" As the moments passed by, she grew stronger.. resolve to have vengeance upon her lucky double grew. "I... do not have it, Mistress.. it was stolen.." Her angry eyes flashed dangerously.. Air shoved Ah'Lahn across the room and pinned him to the wall. The woman who stood.. the woman who's shadow fell across Ah'Lahn's fearful face.. was none other than Mistress Taria. "Who has it?" She asked through her gritted teeth. "You do.. I mean, your double.. Mistress.." Ah'Lahn stuttered, averting his eyes from hers so that he might not further incur her wrath. Her eyes narrowed.. Taria tossed her dark braid over her shoulder. Without her pain ter'angreal she felt incomplete. She needed it -- not because she couldn't deal out pain without it, she was talented enough to do that on her own... but because it was a symbol of power.. power that she had. With a hot steely glare at Ah'Lahn, Taria spoke.. and he trembled. "Why did you not take it back for me, my pet? Where is she? Did you kill her? Answer me!" Air crushed him.. Ah'Lahn cried out. "Please, Mistress.. I had to Heal you.. or you would have died!" The Air crushing him released him and allowed him to fall to his knees on the ground, hugging himself in pain. "Where is she?" Not one word of thanks, nor a word of apology. One of her training never shows gratitude, not does one show pity. It was just never done. The question is demanding, and the threat behind an incorrect answer was understood. Ah'Lahn spoke where he had seen her last, quivering and hoping to gain her pleasure again. By the time he had finished, Taria was in her own world of plotting and scheming. She frowned.. they were near the camp. Not that she cared if the camp was taken by the Lightfriends, but if she were to seek her vengeance soon, it would mean going to the camp. What of Lu'rece? That woman would have told them of her scheming with Zeranthes by now... if she survived what destroyed that building. "Ah'Lahn.. we go to the camp." The cat was out of the bag.. and Taria was going to have fun finding more then one way to skin it. ~Talia/Taria~ ~T~ <><
 Myiona's eyes burned with anger as she glared at Mera'shar. He sat there surrounded by his supporters, sure that everything would turn out to his satisfaction. She had her own group of followers, all men and all strong in the power. Still, it rankled that he had caught her off guard and bonded her. A smile played about his lips as he looked over at her. He was enjoying this assignment because he thought it would destroy her and make his own place more secure. Not if she could help it. Myiona intended to do anything she could to advance her own position, even if she had to kill him. Myiona knew that killing him would leave her weak and vulnerable for several days, but staying bonded to the man was worse than death. She had been promised many things by the chosen she served, and she intended to collect on everyone of those promises. The cache of ter'angreals lay in the middle of the huge cavern. Surrounding it were an army of halfmen. Each carried one of the deadly swords forged at Thakan'dar. They seemed to glow with the blood light of all those who had been slain by the blades. She could not help but shiver in their presence, even though she had been escorted by them numerous times. Failing the chosen meant being turned over to them for their amusement, a task she intended to avoid not matter what else it cost her.
Vicky
aka Myiona

 Mera'shar sensed Myiona's amazement at his audacity settle into anger and outrage. He had entertained an idea of an alliance between them to seize control of the Black Tower. That hope has since withered away. Oh, well. Who could say what the future may bring? He still thought, it was a good idea to bond her. Now she dares not kill him, or risk her own sanity and perhaps her life. Of course, the same applied to him through her bond. Maybe he could modify his own bond to her for compulsion. Her will was strong, and it would be difficult to say the least. But the potential rewards... He flashed her an unpleasant smile. She returned his smile with a burning stare. They each sat in the middle of their own private armies. His own group was slightly larger, bolstered by the pets he allowed his Asha'man to collect. But Myiona's Asha'man were all larger and more intimidating in appearance and strength. Any Lightfrinds who found there way in here would find themselves unpleasantly surprised. Mera'shar was still swelling on the rewards he would reap when his enemies were destroyed or broken when Jerome returned with the supplies he sent for. The Asha'man stopped dead in his tracks and glanced from him to Myiona and back. He then looked at Mera'shar five remaining pets, like he was looking for a sixth that wasn't there. His face went pale when he did spot it. "What is it, man? Speak up!" HE had a feeling he knew what he was going to say, but wanted to be sue "M-master, I just saw you at the camp. With Myiona. The other one. You said you'd captured her" The man was cringing now, expecting punishment. But Mera'shar only smiled. "Am I now? That is interesting. Yes, it is. And Myiona? " e couldn't help but laugh at the situation What's so funny? Mera'shar? They're using your own trick to get to the Black Tower. You're being impersonated. Shouldn't you send some of your en to kill them? And weaken my own forces while keeping yourself strong, you mean? The Myrdraal had proved a useful balancing force in the cavern, keeping the two rival forces fro each others throats. But if they get recalled for some reason, chaos will almost certainly result. "I'm afraid they are Stevan's problem now, assuming they haven't killed him yet. We are ordered by the Chosen themselves to remain here. But those two can't possibly take on the Black Tower as a whole. They will be discovered and killed eventually. But by then they will have killed some of our rivals and weakened others. Meanwhile we remain untouched, ready to take control. With the cache of ter'angreal to boot. We shall rule the Black Tower together" he added the emphasis to remind her of the balance of power they maintained. That is, if you are still to strong for me to deal with once and for all. "And if they are not alone? If the find us here?" Myiona asked in an acid tone" We may be the ones weakened by the attack, or haven't you thought of that?" "I hope they do find us. I owe them both" he replied. "As for what we'd do about them..." Mera'shar got up and went to the Myrdraal. The parted before him silently as he approached the cache. They stared with their terrifying eyeless gaze as he selected something from the pile. It was a golden gauntlet with a large red stone set in the palm. "Just until we are relieved from our guard duty" he told them "We may need weapons" the Myrdraal said nothing "I remember reading of this ter'angreal" he explained. "A useful weapon, indeed" He put the glove in his right hand and pointed the gem at Jerome. He channeled a weave of Spirit at the ter'angreal. Jerome's head seemed to blur and the thrashed about. His gaze never left the stone, even as blood began to leak out his ears and nose. Mera'shar stopped before doing any permanent damage, though the pain he inflicted was quite intense "That was for letting the impostors slip through your fingers. Now get to your position" Jerome staggered away. Mera'shar grinned. And if we take any prisoners, we have more than enough channelers and Myrdraal to replace our fallen with new recruits to the Great Lord"
Jake
Marked Asha'man

 Tareena nodded. "So we have to move quickly in order to find anything at all." "Right. Just a moment, ok?" Darren disappeared into one of the buildings. Tareena shook her head at her bondmate, wondering where he was going but figured she would find out soon enough. she continued to walk down the street, lost in thought, wondering how the others were making out and what was happening with them. Tareena was eager to get on their way. What is taking so long? She wondered. Calling out Darren's name, she hesitated in the middle of the street, tapping her foot impatiently. Some noise, some imperceptible motion alerted her to another presence, directly behind her. Heart in her throat she plunged away. Feeling her wrist being caught she turned around to see her bondmate standing there. He pressed his forehead into her wrist. "I'm so sorry, I'm sorry..." Though confused, she stopped being terrified and tried to calm him. "What? You startled me. Not a big..." Unhearing, he had continued, "Please forgive me, Tare." "Of cour... Tare? Why in the hell is Darren calling me Tare? He knows how much that name gets to me. Why is he bringing up my past name as a damane? T hen it dawned on her. this wasn't Darren. It was his double. DARREN GET OUT HERE!" She yelled, beyond terrified by her realization. Yanking her hand away, she watched in fascination as the impostor collapsed onto the ground. Turning her head slightly, she noted that Darren had come at a run, pulling a knife. Momentarily distracted by his arrival, she caught motion out of the corner of her eye. She whipped her head around at the same time she opened herself to sadder and wove shields over the man on the ground. There was no resistance. It was almost as if he wasn't there. Anger and frustration mounted and she took a step forward, wanting to hurt him. She felt her emotions mirrored in her bondmate and together, they moved forward to strike. As they moved closer, Tareena realized that the man was speaking, very low, very calmly. It was eerie, the sound of his voice. Metallic. Dead. She moved even closer, curiosity winning the battle over anger.

 Mura'shar was nervous. The camp of the other Black Tower had too few people in it. Other than Jerome, he had seen no one from Mera'shar's faction. And none that he recognized from Myiona's. While the reduced numbers would help when the attack came, he wondered where they were, and what sort of trouble they could cause. Talia was up and about again when they reached the tent after meeting with Stevan. As he explained Stevan's instructions to the others, he noticed she was toying with something. He couldn't see what it was, but it clearly wasn't one of the daggers she favored. He put it out of his mind as he sent Alcinia and Aramis back to camp to gather more of the Tower. He hoped no other clever Darfriends had managed to sneak into their ranks. "Once we've managed to secure the Darkfriends' camp, we have to fnd where they're keeping the cache. It's likely to be warded , at least. Perhaps guarded as well" he murmured half to himself. "That means we'll have to take prisoners, or spend weeks searching the city high and low. That will make the attack that much harder, but it can't be avoided, I think"
Jake
Marked Asha'man

 Alcinia walked beside Aramis as they moved through the enemy camp and around the city. They entered their own camp and stopped to talk quickly. "Who can we trust?" she asked her bondmate. "How will we know we are speaking to those of our own camp and not the others?"

 "Do you know what thirteen myrdraal and thirteen dreadlords can do? They can bind you to the... Dark One. Whoever you are. You can be an infant, or the dragon yourself. From that moment on, the... Dark One... has a tunnel in to your soul, can nearly force you to do things. Nearly. As I speak now, it can be done. But not by an innocent. No sheer conviction can hold against the terrible might. You must be willing to... to have your soul torn to shreds, but not only that. You must _wish_ it." Hhe paused for a moment, unclenched his fist. He continued, somewhat mock jovially. "Yesterday, I was a good darkfriend. I _thought_ I was a very very bad darkfriend, because I thought bad things. I thought how pathetic it was for my tower to squabble, how evil our works were and how every little bit I did to mitigate that made me better. But..." He paused again, resumed his distance. "I was thirty-one, not so very brash, but, still, determined to die before the taint took me. I was assigned with several other asha'man of the red tower to guard our sul'dam as they raided the forces of the Dark One for their dreadlords. We simultaneously strengthened our forces and weakened theirs, essentially converting our weak women channelers into strong ones, and killing their strong ones. Still, we were losing until we captured one of the ChForsaken, one different from those in your world. And also, our collars are very different from yours. To control her required a strong channeller. Not as strong as a forsaken, but candle-lighters wouldn't be sufficient. And so, controlling her was a special woman, not only powerful, but of infinite patience and mercy, and also considerable backbone and a voice that could convince water to flow uphill. For that was what the lord dragon had assigned her to do. To return that forsaken to the light. And I was chosen to guard her. "She never did make much progress on her, but in the mean time we did amazing things on the battlefield. But... the shadow wanted that woman back, no matter the cost. We were ambushed. In my... no. I was the rearguard. That was my job. I did it. I did it well. For when the thirteen myrdraal and the thirteen dreadlords did their work, they knew I and my grolm had killed more than their number mere hours before. But what good does that do? I survived, and they forced me. "I did as I was told... how could I not? Even the damane, I knew, suffered less helplessness. I returned. I came to her, full of love and a hug. I stabbed her up behind her rib cage, straight into the heart. She only realized as she was dying. Maybe quarter a second before. And the look on her face confused me. Why terror? Why anger? I still could not believe what I was doing. The blood on my hands, my arms, dripping down my belly and legs, sticking everywhere. Why was it there? where had it come from? Then I realized, panicked. Not a nightmare. Tare was dead. And I had to finish it. Before anyone could find us, I freed the forsaken, and Travelled." A long pause. "After that, I don't remember much for a while. But somehow, I found out... I had also killed... our unborn child. Of course, it was information from the Father of Lies, so I had to doubt it. But doubt is a lasting poison, and guilt feeds on it, both the worst for each other. "That was the last leverage, the way the Dark One convinced me that I really was a darkfriend: through the power of guilt, doubt, not so much the fear. I caved in. I was really one of them then. No going back, even if I could. The only life I could have was as a darkfriend. "Seeing you... jogged something loose. Reminded me I am a bad man, a very bad man; revived the discord so deep I couldn't... It gave me a way to explain and make it better. But I can't make Tare better, no, nothing can... "It wasn't my fault! I couldn't control what was happening. If you don't believe me that is your right but it... is... the... truth! I hate the Dark One! He killed Tare! He... made me live through the agony of self-denial of all feeling so I wouldn't have to think about what I had done. But... you are here. I can't deny what I did any more. I killed Tare, and I accept the worst of my past. No more pain of doubt. Only the pain of loss. But my deed remains... I can accept it as a different person, but who I am, the way I am, involves Tare. And we still parted ways with her breathing her last breath cursing me. If only I could explain to her, fix things between us. But it's too late now... I guess that's why I am telling you all of this. Tare is beyond reach until the next turning. But here she is again... Can I explain? Does she understand? I... I don't want to be bad, Tare... And I'm sorry I stabbed you to death. What can I do? Can I ever come back to you?" Darran closed his eyes again and rocked back and forth. Hands trembled half-clenched, eyebrows narrowed to a point.
Luke
Darren/Darran

 Myiona was not pleased that Mera'shar chose to keep his people all in place rather than deal with the others. She certainly had no issues to settle with them. She rather admired the woman who was her counterpart for tricking her into giving up of Mura'shar. All hope was not lost, though. She still had a few moves of her own she could make to keep Mera'shar off balance. She stood and removed the dark cloak, revealing the form fitting dress beneath. "It is hot in here," she said to no one in particular. She glided across the floor to the cache of ter'angreal and looked through them carefully. Finding just what she was looking for, Myiona picked up a small statue of a woman. She smiled at Mera'shar as she caressed it with her fingers. Like every Domani, she knew how to use her body. Myiona's walk was aimed at getting the attention of the men in the room. She was no stranger to the art of seduction, as she had proven on many occasions. There was no way he would be immune to her charms.

 An explosion was the signal that the battle was set to start. Myiona looked at Mura'shar as they heard the sound. "Be careful," she whispered looking into his eyes. "If I should lose you..." She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly before pulling back and trying to act brave. It was a small group that left the tent and went to face the others, but they were determined to do all they could to win this battle. Myiona knew that she could not stay close to Mura'shar and pretend to be her counterpart. She walked far away from him, putting Talia and La'rece between. "Soldier," Myiona said addressing a man who rounded a tent and almost bumped into her, "what is happening?" "They battle has began," he replied brandishing a sword. "The other tower has attacked even as we went out to meet them. The explosion took out a great many of our front line." Myiona touched his arm, sending him into a deep sleep and wrapped him in bonds of air. His sword looked almost as light weight as the one she normally carried. She grinned and lifted it into the air. The soldier was rolled back into a tent and left behind. As the small group advanced behind the members of the other tower, Myiona noticed that the ones with more authority stayed in the back of the line. That would make their job easier. Almost as one, they ran and attacked the back of the group.

 Talia had a sense of dread... but also a sense of anticipation. Battle was something she always considered ingrained in her body. She was always a fighter talented with daggers before she was a channeler of the One Power. Her father fought the Blight.. and now it was her turn to do him proud. She sensed the battle near, and the way Myiona and Mura'shar reacted to the explosion only further proved her suspicions. Twirling her daggers in her hands, she stood ready as they moved toward the enemy camp. Myiona moved from Mura'shar to behind Talia and La'rece. This made her wonder what that was all about. Talia knew not the nuances of the enemy Myiona or Mura'shar doubles. But, she did know of her own.. and of Zeranthes and Sneed. Sneed was no double, she knew. Talia only hoped that, soon, this would all be over and she could seek Alan out and kick his sorry butt. Gripping her daggers so that she would be absolutely for combat, Talia continued to follow the line, keeping her eyes open and searching for whatever may lay ahead. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Taria stood near the camp with Ah'Lahn, observing with her cold hard eyes the fighting on the front lines. "It seems," She cooed icily toward her pet, "that we have arrived just in time to watch the show, my sweet." "Are we to join them, Mistress?" Ah'Lahn cautiously looked toward his mistress's red booted feet. The bruises on his body attesting why he should not speak forcefully nor look at her face unless directed to do so. After a moment of deep thought and plotting, Taria shook her head, "No, my pet. For now.. we simply watch and wait." The grim smile on her face, caught partially in Ah'Lahn's peripheral vision, made him shiver slightly. ~Talia~ ~T~ <><

 Nodding to Myiona, La'rece drew her sword. After the group's initial flanking attack, it's use would only be incidental. At that point, the use of the One Power would be the most effective weapon against the Other Tower. Hawk Dipping Its Wing brought the Arafellan into a graceful dip and spin that effectively took out two women from the enemy Tower. Ordinarily, La'rece would confront her opponent and at least give them the chance to attempt to fight back, but these women were channellers, and powerful. The Dragonsworn would grant them no such quarter. As though dancing, La'rece, a Blademaster, made her way through the mass, others of the Black Tower fighting alongside her or within sight of where she stood. Nearby, Talia worked her daggers in an impressive manner. Further over, Myiona made good use of the sword she had acquired from the enemy Soldier they had encountered. It was not long before Saidar and Saidin were used in conjunction with each member's weapons. The Others were at first caught off guard but were now making a concerted stand. The noise was deafening. In a remote part of her mind, La'rece found the cacophony to be akin to absolute silence. Focused on her fighting, lost in the void, the Blademaster continued to slay those enemies who came before her. Time, it seemed, had stood still ...
Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 Mera'shar was not immune to Myiona's charms. The clinging dress drew his eye and the eyes of many followers, from both sides, to her. She was truly gifted in the art of seduction. But he knew from bitter experience that her heart was as black as his own. She was definitely up to something. But that doesn't mean he couldn't have a little fun, does it? As Myiona passed by, still caressing the statue she had picked up, he stood and circled an arm around her waist 'What have you got there, my dear?" he asked her, pulling her close "Wouldn't you like to know" she retorted and neatly escaped his grip, still smiling at him. At that moment, an explosion sounded from the surface. A Fade materialized from the shadows and consulted with the other Myrdraal. It then strode up to Mera'shar and Myiona, who were suddenly all business again "The attack has begun. Are the wards in place?" Mera'shar shivered and nodded. He had placed concealed wards at all the possible entrances to the cavern. Nobody will get in without every Asha'man in the cavern knowing about it. Myiona may have placed her own wards, but he wouldn't be able to sense them. "Good" the Fade answered and joined its brothers. Myiona returned to her pat of the chamber, still swaying a bit. Mera'shar stole a slightly regretful glance at her and returned to preparing his followers for battle.
Jake
Marked Asha'man

 An explosion in the distance signaled the beginning of battle. He and Myiona embraced one last time. "Be careful," she whispered, looking into his eyes. "If I should lose you..." Mura'shar felt a lump forming in his throat, so he just held her close for a moment before she pulled back. Here was no more time to waste. Myiona joined Talia and Larece, and the four of them burst out of the tent, determined to do as much damage to this rival Black Tower as possible. Mura'shar cut down anyone who got to close, and used the One Power on anyone too far away. They focused on speed and confusion to carry them farther than brute force. But the Others were learning. There are only so many people you could kill before arousing suspicion, even when you are striking them from behind. One Asha'man was waiting for Mura'shar when he attacked. Their blades clashed against each other in mimicry to the blades of Spirit as they tried to shield or sever each other. Only by good fortune and the Asha'man tripping over a tent line kept Mura'shar from falling behind and ending up alone in a hostile camp full of evil duplicates. Mura'shar cut the man's throat and continued. His own duplicate was in here somewhere. And when he found him...
Jake
Marked Asha'man

 Battle raged in her blood. And, truly, battle was ingrained in her blood. Her father, her father's father, and men on down her ancestral line lived their lives to protect land from the Blight. Now? Now, Talia fought to protect the land from a different incarnation of the Dark One: an alternate Tower of Darkfriend duplicates. As her comrades fought, she did also. Talia dodged an Asha'man's swing of his blade. She couldn't sense his channeling, but she knew that he wouldn't just try to attack her with might. She held on to saidar should he try to sever her from the Source. Talia felt a pressure on her hold of Saidar. She was right, the Asha'man was trying to shield her. Talia gritted her teeth, keeping a hold of Saidar and attempting to weave Air into pushing him away from her.. distracting him. Talia's daggers flashed wickedly in her hands as she expertly poised herself for an attack. The Asha'man glowered, staggering forth from where he landed in his flight. Brandishing his sword, he sent forth a sharp edge of Spirit, attempting to sever her hold on the Source. Talia staggered back a few steps, gritting her teeth and sweating from the effort it took to keep sweet Saidar flowing through her. Her grip on the daggers tightened, making her knuckles as white as snow. Talia jumped to one side, rolled, ducked the Asha'man's swing, and leaped up from her crouch with a double swipe of her daggers. Unfortunately, the Asha'man's swing did not completely miss her. A long gash appeared on her side, bleeding somewhat as she stood over the Asha'man. He was injured. War is war, battle is battle. Talia plunged the knife into the man's chest. He was an enemy.. Never leave an enemy to stab you in the back.... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Out of the corner of her eye, Mistress Taria caught sight of what she was looking for. In the outskirts of the fray fought her repugnant double. However, she was not as foolish as those stupid Asha'man who attacked her and her friends. She allowed her target to fight many of those stupid men before she snapped her fingers. Ah'Lahn was to her side immediately. "Yes, Mistress?" Ah'Lahn asked, his head bowed respectfully. "Go fetch my ter'angreal, pet. And don't make me have to assist you. I rather like my view from here." Taria's eyes glared down at Ah'Lahn. She was angered by his past failures (despite the fact that he failed because he had to find her and Heal her before she died). "Yes, Mistress.." Ah'Lahn shivered, yet he was greatful for the opportunity to serve and restore his good standing with her. He Travelled. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Talia withdrew her dagger from the Asha'man's forehead. Two down.. and she was bleeding badly from various cuts and near misses. One of these times, the sword is going to hit its mark. Talia forced herself not to think of that. The others of her group were fanning out, causing confusion and mayhem in the camp. She couldn't find one right now. She just had to press on. Something tingled in the back of her head. Something was going on, and she knew not what it was. A rumble of Earth caused Talia to stumble forward and fall to her knees. Pushing herself up, straight, she turned to face.. Ah'Lahn. Trying to straighten herself, she glared at him. "Come to get your trip to the Dark One, Ah'Lahn?" Unsheathing his sword, Ah'Lahn calmly stepped toward her, "You have something that belongs to someone else, darlin'" Talia felt the familiar stab at her Saidar. Grunting from the effort, Talia formed a battle weave, faltering slightly before she shot it forth toward Ah'Lahn. "Whatever.. it is, Darkfriend, it's mine now." Ah'Lahn dodged, rolling to the side, and tossing a full force Fire ball toward her. Talia dodged this, but this was getting tiresome. Her blood was all over her clothes; she was losing her fighting edge. (~Light help me beat the crap out of this loser Darkfriend..~)
~Talia Daimar~
<><

 Myiona smiled as she stepped away from Mera'shar. The temptation had been strong to stay in his arms, but she would never give him that satisfaction. The member of the Black Ajah liked pleasure as much as anyone else, but only when she was in control. She looked back at him and shivered. Myiona was having difficulty keeping her mind focused on the task at hand. She wondered how things would have gone if they had been allies rather than enemies. An image stole into her mind and she shivered. She caressed the statue in her hand, her eyes still upon Mera'shar. Pulling her eyes away was difficult, but she forced herself to look upon the Myrdraal surrounding the cache. Remembering what they did to women who failed, brought her mind back to reality. Myiona intended to survive no matter what else happened. The others could go to the pit of doom, as far as she was concerned. It would be a shame to waste the talents of someone like her bondmate. The word was not as distasteful as it had been. She would save him if she could, but not at the risk of her own life. The dream had been so vivid. When she walked into the cavern, it had all come back to her. The group of light friends bursting in, cutting down everyone in their path. She turned to run and came face to face with her double. She had begged for her life, but the sword had fallen. "No," she muttered causing her group to look up in concern, "it will not end that way for me. Listen, I have had a dream about this. They will come and we will all die unless we have an escape plan." She told them the details, feeling the eyes of Mera'shar upon her the whole time. "If you can," she instructed the most able of her followers, "save Mera'shar. We are bonded and his death would cause me great hurt." Her eyes promised the man her favor for a long time if he did what she commanded.

 Tareena stared in fascination as the words poured from her bondmates double, feeling herself drawn in to his story, almost against her will. This was a story about love and passion and hatred, centered on someone named Tare. Her twin in this world, whom she would never meet. The woman he was describing was nothing like the Tare she had known. The Tare that was a damane. The name given to her by an unforgiving Suldame. With a shake of her head and a forceful reminder that she was not that woman any longer, Tareena backed away a few steps to regroup. Out of the corner of her eye, Tareena caught movement just in time to raise a cry. Trollocs came pouring forth into the street from every direction, their beaks snarling and snapping. Moving with instinct born of battle, She twisted and moved, flames shooting from her hands. Darren moved to her side, surveying the situation and obviously coming up with the same feelings. They were in trouble. Without his swords, he was in a dangerous position. Tareena twisted and turned, guiding her flows to stave off the worst of the attack. Barely in time, she stopped a trolloc from decapitating the man lying in the street. Now why did I do that? she wondered. Because somehow his story got to you, you soft touch, and you know it. Now concentrate on what you are doing before you get everyone killed. Realizing they were in a precarious situation and needing some defensive protection, Darren motioned towards a doorway. Tareena flicked her eyes at the man she just saved, hoping Darren felt the same way she did. He didn't, she could tell, but gave into her with just a look. Darting forward, he snagged the man by his collar and began dragging him backwards, picking up the mans sword in his other hand. A Myddraal materialized from the shadows, forcing Darren to stop dragging and defend. "This one is ours" it hissed. "Leave him and go." That statement solidified their purpose. They could not leave the man to that unknown fate, whatever the cost. Tareena lost track of how many kills she made, and even of Darren, although she knew he was still alive. the power blazed forth from her, its sweetness filling her, almost to the point of pain. Smoke rose all around her, filling her vision. She made it to the doorway and relief washed over her when she saw her bondmate push through the smoke, hauling Darran with him. Darren placed him inside the building and turned to take up a defensive stance in front of her, cutting down everything that she missed. The day drug on, filled with the stench of death. They hung on, fighting for their lives.

 Myiona found herself hard pressed in the battle. She had been cut off from the source as two members of the other tower approached her. They each wore a wicked grin that made her throat go dry. The sword had long since been knocked from her hands, but she still had a weapon or two hidden away. The Domani pretended to be cowed by the two women as they approached, wanting them to get close enough so she could use her dagger. Her hands slowly, hanging at her sides, began unwrapping the bola from around her waist. It appeared a ordinary belt until the whole length was free. It took her a mere second to wrap the leather straps tightly around one of the women's necks while the dagger slid across the other one. The second fell to the ground, blood spurting from the wound. The first clawed at the bola trying to loosen it. Myiona was not sure what to do. Should she kill the woman or knock her unconscious for later use. A stray arrow solved the problem for her, hitting the woman in the chest. Her eyes filled with shock as she fell to the ground. Myiona quickly unwrapped the bola, in case she needed it later, looping it back around her waist. She wiped her dagger on the woman's skirt before turning back to the battle.

 It was becoming increasingly difficult to hold onto the hilt of her sword as blood from her opponents had covered her. La'rece preferred not to have to fight in such close quarters, however the enemy's numbers and the very fact of the layout of the enemy camp left little choice. In the back of her mind, the Dragonsworn Blademaster was aware of a small cut, received inadvertently from the broken sword of a dead Asha'man when La'rece had moved backward quickly to avoid the deadly downward swing of a Myrdraal's blade. The Myrdraal was dead, its thrashing body ten feet from where its head had finally come to rest. But there was no time to stop to wipe the salty sweat from the minor injury. Two Asha'man accompanied by a woman dressed in black were advancing upon her. The woman was not as strong in the One Power as La'rece, but she was filled to brimming with Saidar. Years of practice allowed the Arafellan to gather her own strength preparing a lethal whip crack weave that would not cut the woman off from the True Source, but rather would completely destroy her. One of La'rece's strongest affinities was Earth, rare in a woman, but La'rece's Grandmother had also been unusually strong in Earth. La'rece had to act quickly before they were close enough to engage in physical battle with her thus distracting her from her primary target, this woman who thought to aid the two Asha'man in killing her. The moment the weaves were prepared, La'rece struck out. The woman's eyes widened as she felt the weave penetrate her body and then begin its work. There were Healers who could flash a person's blood to boiling in the blink of an eye. In many ways the art of healing was only a hair's width away from the art of killing. This however, was more akin to the art of mining and the altering of the nature of certain metals the art of which was only recently being re-explored. The woman, even as she was taking her next step, began to vaporize, her body losing its form and substance. In the next moment, she was gone, only her black garments remained, falling to the ground. The two Asha'man, who were as yet unaware that the woman had been killed, closed in on the Dragonsworn. However, La'rece had not paused to take notice of the result of her weave. Instead, the Arafellan turned her assault on the first Asha'man. The man tried to block her weaves using Saidin, but was too late to be effectual. As the man's empty clothes drifted to the ground, La'rece turned her focus to the last Asha'man. As she was about to channel for a third time, La'rece was knocked into from behind. The blow sent her hurling into the Asha'man who was caught off guard as well. With no time to resurrect her lost weave, La'rece brought her sword around and prepared to fight the man who stood before her ...
Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 Mura'shar decided that things were getting completely out of hand. Two sets of opponents were converging on him at once. A young Asha'man with an Aes Sedai and a leather-clad Dragonsworn with an Ahsa'man. If they had come at him together, they would have taken him easily. As it was, they watched each other as much as they watched him. Clearly from different factions of the Tower. The Asha'man had Mura'shar shielded. The Dragonsworn bound him up in Air "Myiona will be very grateful to have you back, my dear" she hissed "Not Myiona" the Asha'man rumbled. He was big as a blacksmith and looked familiar to Mura'shar "He's going to Stevan. He wants to handle all prisoners personally." "So he can 'personally' let him escape again? Not likely" the Dragonsworn huffed. "Besides, How are you going to move him without me? You've got your pet filled to bursting in that link you're holding" "And I'm the one who has him shielded. Unless, of course, you think you two can both shield and transport him" While they were arguing, Mura'shar was straining at saidin, drawing on the stone ring angreal and all his strength. I am not going back! The shield stretched, strained, and broke just as the Asha'man turned from his argument in shock. Mura'shar wove Fire, and a blinding flash of light blinded his opponents. As they staggered back, Mura'shar drove a blade of Spirit at the Asha'man, severing him from the true Source forever. The Asha'man fell to his knees. His mouth moved, but no sound came out. His Aes Sedai wailed and curled up into the fetal position. Next Mura'shar focused on the Dragonsworn. A whirlwind caught her and her bondmate up. Higher and higher they rose, as Mura'shar parried their attempt to shield him. If they linked, the man would have to lead, and the Dragonsworn wasn't about to let that happen. Mura'shar ended the whirlwind at fifteen feet, letting them drop to the ground. Stunned or dead he couldn't tell nor did he care. To lift that much weight, even with the angreal, almost fried him. The joy of holding saidin had become pain, and the normal layer of taint a torrent in him. Mura'shar sat down for a moment to rest. He was covered in blood. Most from numerous small injuries, and some of his enemies' blood as well. The strain of battle was getting to him. A tiny weave of Fire and Air let him Fold Light and become virtually invisible. The battle raged around him and passed him by. He'd just rest for a moment, then get up. Maybe act as a rear guard, or check for survivors. Someone has to know where the angreal cache is. Where was Myiona? Looking around he spotted his bondmate and La'rece caught up in their own fights. Neither looked badly hurt, but the flow of enemies showed no signs of diminishing. And the fight was taking Myiona further and further away from him. He started to get to his feet. He felt the weave of Earth before the rumble started. Glancing around, he saw Talia battling an Asha'man. That duplicate of Alan. The Dragonsworn was covered in blood and didn't look too steady. If anything, she looked worse than he did. For an agonizing moment, Mura'shar was caught in indecision. He wanted to be at his bondmate's side, protecting her. But Talia needs help now, and he was the only one who knew that. He came to a decision. He would not be overprotective this time. Myiona was battle trained, and was with La'rece, He has seen La'rece in battle, and knew how formidable he was. They can take care of themselves. As Talia knocked aside one of "Alan's" fireballs, Mura'shar let his Illusion drop and strode towards the battle. In his best Nobleman's voice, he commanded the Asha'man, hoping he still made an intimidating presence. "Hold up, Darkfriend. Leave her be or you'll have to face me as well"
Jake
Marked Ahsa'man

 Ariana whirled as the streets began to fill with ominous dark shapes, both human and half-human- and Halfman. The short Healer pressed her back up against a reddish clay wall in the shadow of an overhang. It seemed her time to find the others had run out. There is no way under the Light that i'm going to get through here without fighting. That seemed obvious, especially since she'd never seen so many Fades in one place in her whole lifetime. With a very quiet resigned sigh, she pulled her staff free and gripped it tightly. Men and Shadowspawn milled in the streets, yelling to each other. She began to see the members of her own Tower, as they were found or left hiding to attack this new threat. As luck would have it, a Trolloc and not a Myrdraal found her; A few lightning-fast whirls, and it lay crumpled on the dusty earth- its ram's skull caved in all along the left side. Not fast enough, Shadowwpawn, she thought with a moment of grim relief. Still, there were many, many more out there to fight. That's the problem with winning- you have to keep fighting, and that makes you get tired. Silently, she slipped from her hiding place before anyone, or anything, could notice the dead Trolloc in the corner of a shattered building. With her staff the diminutive Healer carved a slow and bloody path toward the center of the fighting- where she guessed that the most important action would be- and more of her own Tower. It was hard work, and soon she was sweating like a horse in the heat of this false Rhuidean. "At least it's a dry heat," she muttered as she swept an eagle-beaked Trolloc off its clawed feet and disposed of it. But she still had a long way to go before she reached the center of this nest of vipers.
Heehee, combat!! Yes!! Let's eradicate some Trollocs...

 Looking down, La'rece was fairly certain that the man was dead.
Unintentionally, her last swing had gone higher than she had intended taking
the top half of the Asha'man's head with it. The Dragonsworn never
ceased to marvel at the perpetually keen edge of the sword Ivan had given
her, its heron mark subtle yet clear. La'rece decided the placement of
the sword strike was not so much miscalculation but more a direct result
of impending fatigue.

Glancing over the fighting, La'rece had little time to contemplate her
last encounter.  Directly across from her, Myiona was cornered and
without her weapons.  The men advancing on her had a gleam in their eyes
that spoke of having a woman who could channel helpless and under their
control. ~Well, we'll see about that now, won't we!~

Wiping sweat and blood (some of it human, some of it trolloc) from her
eyes, La'rece moved in to flank the First's attackers...

Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 Myiona saw La'rece standing nearby and gave her a small smile. "I say we end this now," the Domani said embracing the source. The two women shared a look and then together they made their way through the members of the other tower, obliterating everyone in their path. She was filled with so much Saidar that it hurt. Myiona threw a fireball at a dark clad woman pointing at her. The woman's clothes and then body starting burning as she ran from the anger of the two women raining down death and destruction on their enemies. Finally, she could channel no more and Myiona felt the power slip from her grasp. She was almost ready to collapse when a hand touched her shoulder. Myiona pulled the dagger and whirled around to see Alcinia and Aramis had met up with them. Their side of the camp had been almost cleared. A few people seemed to be hiding or running, but the Domani no longer cared as her eyes rolled back in her head.
Vicky
aka Myiona
 
 Moving quickly, La'rece caught Myiona as she collapsed. Aramis was
immediately there helping along with Alcinia who stood keeping watch. The
battle was not over yet. Clusters of fighters engaged one another in
pockets all around them though the tide had turned in the Black Tower's
favor.

"She's exhausted" La'rece said without preamble. No one needed an
explanation. They were all on the verge of collapse. Weaving a complex
shield around the First, La'rece turned back to Aramis and Alcinia. "It's
almost over ... I hope."

"We need to finish this, soon" Aramis said in a voice as cold and stern
as stone. La'rece nodded readjusting her grip on her sword. Bending her
knee and lifting her foot, the Dragonsworn tested her leg. The small
cut had stopped bleeding; the wound would not hinder her ability to
fight. To kill.

"Shall we dance?" La'rece asked her fellows with a smile.

Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 Stevan observed from a distance. The battle was not going well, and the Tower he was leading was being driven back, mainly due to his gross tactical blunders. He shrugged. Luckily, it wasn't his own Tower he was commanding. Not all was perfect though. They were fighting to get to the ter'angreal cache, something that Stevan had no idea where it was. And he of all people was expected to know, so asking someone was out of the question. Sighing, he decided it was time for another tactical blunder. Channelling so that his voice would be projected, he shouted, "Rally to the ter'angreal cache!" Looking at him strangely, yet not daring to question him (the menancing stare helped with that), the Darkfriend Asha'man and Dragonsworn broke ranks and ran in a particular direction through the twisting, ruined streets of Rhuidean. Stevan and Andraia followed. It was quite a distance and not too easy to find either. He had to commend his counterpart for some good thinking when he was hiding them. Eventually they reached it, and to his surprise he saw a cavern guarded my Myrdraal and what appeared to be Mura'shar and Myiona. The Darkfriend Mura'shar walked slowly towards Stevan, his face contorted with loathing, anger and sheer hate. "What do you think you are doing?" he spat, "The cache was hidden and guarded, now you draw your troops here when the Lightfriends can follow us." Stevan took a deep breath. He had to keep talking and arouse no suspiscion until his own Tower arrived. "'What do you think you are doing?' I think is a more appropriate question. Why were you not fighting?" Stevan returned the loathing tone. "The Chosen gave us orders to guard the cache, and sent us some guards," Mera'shar replied, pointing out the Myrdraal. "And I'm afraid their orders outrank yours." He gave a sickly sweet smile. Stevan smiled back, then violently swung a fist at Mera'shar's head, sending him crashing to the ground. Stevan walked to stand over him, speaking in a quiet whisper. "I am in command of this mission. You take orders from me, not some other servants of the Dark One." Just then a stampede of footsteps could be heard drawing very near. Mera'shar got to his feet. "Here they are, thanks to you. Have you suddenly become stupid? And Jerome here tells me your battle tactics left much to be desired. All serves to confirm that I should have been made Tsorovan'm'hael of this Storm Team." Stevan turned around to see his own Black Tower arriving at the scene. He began to walk backwards towards them. "I don't think you are giving me enough credit. I was clever enough to kill my counterpart and infiltrate your camp. You see, I meant to do those tactical blunders. In fact, my good understanding of battle tactics enabled me to do them quite well too." Stevan gestured to the Darkfriend Tower in front of him. "And to think you all were blatantly foolish enough to take orders from a Lightfriend like me." Stevan laughed. "You really should be ashamed of yourselves. In any case," Stevan clapped his hands, "I think it's time to fight."
 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ --------------------------------------------
We're now fighting for the ter'angreal! After we've got them, it's home to the BT, and good old fashioned drunken brawls. :)
Steve
-----------------------------------------------------------
M'Hael of the Black Tower Marked Asha'man Stevan Jaer Ingaren Lord of Fal Sion
-----------------------------------------------------------
<><

 For the longest time, there was little word on how the battle went. Mera'shar and Myiona passed the time with casual flirtation, much to the bemusement of both their followers. Others played cards or dice. Some sharpened weapons, preparing for the probable confrontation. The occasional report from Jerome indicated that it would come down to a fight. Stevan was making blunder after blunder in the battle, almost like he as trying to lose. After today, it should be n problem having him removed. The Chosen would kill him themselves. Jerome suddenly appeared at his elbow "The remains of the Black Tower are coming" he whispered. The going to make a last stand here" With a snarl, Mera'shar stood up. That idiot! HE should be leading them away! They could always come back later for the ter'angreal. They wouldn't be going anywhere! And then Stevan was there Trying to get his anger under control, Mera'shar approached him "What do you think you are doing?" he spat, "The cache was hidden and guarded, now you draw your troops here when the Lightfriends can follow us." Stevan looked nervous, but stood his ground 'What do you think you are doing?' I think is a more appropriate question. Why were you not fighting?" Mera'shar smiled and explained the orders from the Chosen. He thought that would end the discussion then and there, but Stevan's response was to hit him. Mera'shar was taken totally, off guard and was knocked off his feet. "I am in command of this mission. You take orders from me, not some other servants of the Dark One." Stevan whispered Was this idiot consumed by the taint? Mera'shar had little respect for Stevan, but this was too much he sound of approaching footsteps drew Mera'shar back to the problem at hand "Here they are, thanks to you. Have you suddenly become stupid? And Jerome here tells me your battle tactics left much to be desired. All serves to confirm that I should have been made Tsorovan'm'hael of this Storm Team." Stevan just laughed. Backing away, he explained "I don't think you are giving me enough credit. I was clever enough to kill my counterpart and infiltrate your camp" As Stevan talked, Mera'shar felt a sinking sensation. Stevan had been replaced by the Lightfriend. The entire battle was a ruse! Probably leading up to this very moment, when the ter'angreal cache was revealed. Stevan gave the signal for his Tower to attack, and Mera'shar snarled "Very well, I should thank you for removing most f my rivals for me, so I shall kill you quickly" Mera'shar raised his gloved hand and channeled Spirit, sending wave after wave of blinding pain towards the front ranks of the asha'man as he drew his sword. He led his faction of the lack Tower to the attack, hoping Myiona would follow.
Jake '
Marked Asha'man
 
 Darren was disconcerted. Every few seconds he would realize that a trolloc archer was aiming at him, and have to retreat a few feet into the doorway. Then the trolloc would come in closer to aim at him... if it came too far, Tareena would blast it; if it came in just enough, he would have to retreat further. Then he would run to the opening again to get a better space to swing in. After a while, trollocs stopped trying to advance into the corridor, but still, archers came into sight, and Tareena would incinerate them. "Stalemate for now." Tareena agreed, and suggested, "You go around and make sure they don't get us from the rear. I seem to have this end bottled up tight. And check up on Darran." From the way she spoke, Darren guessed she didn't mean to make sure he wasn't escaping. {But then again, he has been pretty much inert since he stopped speaking... astonishing. But then again, it did let him gain credibility while not making him fight the dark... suspicious or reassuring? Do I have time to decide? can I afford not to decide?} Darren slipped around Tareena. Darran was indeed directly behind her. Darren looked at him - he was staring at his hands, occasionally moving his fingers as if counting something up, but not really... {Whether it's an act or the real thing, I...}. A twinge of pity struck him involuntarily. {I just don't want to bet my life on it.} Darren sighed, skirted Darran. The only other way into the passage was a stairway a few feet further in. Darren rushed up them, and opened the door at the top directly into a Myrdraal! Darren quickly realized how it had gotten there - having stepped back into the shadows when he proved too tough to beat at first, it had passed right through them and was here to get them from behind! Darran managed to parry the fade's lighting-fast strike, and even got enough leverage to pin the halfman's blade to the wall for a moment. {I'm at a serious disadvantage, being two steps down... Can I retreat to the level surface?} The matter was settled for him when the halfman kicked him in the face, knocking him down the stairs. **** Out of the suicidally guilt-stricken turmoil that had incapacitated Darran arose two realizations: first, that Tareena had acted in his favor by defending him and having Darren drag him to safety; and second, the mydraal had said, "He is ours!" when the very fact that he was there indicated that in fact he wasn't. And that meant he was, indeed, free. Good. And now it was open season on his head in the army of the Dark One. Darran sat up. Darran noticed his sword was not in his scabbard. He looked around, and saw his sword a few feet to his right, further up the corridor, held by Darren, highly unconscious. And a few feet behind him, a myrdraal. Darran threw himself towards the sword. The myrdraal leapt. Mid-leap, the myrdraal erupted in flames. Darran felt the shield on saidin drop, and he siezed it just as he landed... {The taint!} Fortunately it did not distract him too much - there was no time. Darran strengthened himself as he leapt back and yanked Darren out of the way by his shoulder. The dying myrdraal landed on empty stone; its flailing hurt no one; and the trollocs outside keeled over, dead. The moment he was sure they were safe, Darran dropped saidin and looked up to Tare. She smiled a little, and he was shielded again. "Thanks."
Luke
 
 "Shall we dance?" La'rece asked her fellows with a smile. Alcinia gave her an equally dark smile. The others began almost running away. The young thief gave her bondmate a curious look. "A trap?" she asked. "Perhaps caution is in order." Slowly, they followed the others, leaving Myiona behind in the corner out of the way. Aramis took the lead, motioning for the women to stay behind. Alcinia shared a silent laugh with La'rece. They ended up outside a small cavern and the noise indicated that a battle was taking place inside. Almost as one, the trio ran inside jumping into the heart of the fight.

 At the moment, Ariana was unaware of Stevan's infiltration of the enemy
camp,
but even she, who had no tactical training whatever, could see that the
Darkfriends were milling about in angry confusion over their orders.
Still,
she knew she couldn't take a chance that the confusion was feigned, or
part
of a larger plan.  "Light burn you stupid fools and all your twisted
plots!"
the Healer spat as she dodged a Myrdraal, snatched a sword from the
ground,
and drove it through the Eyeless's black-armored chest.  Wait a minute,
that
shouldn't have punctured that armor... A sound of disgust leapt from
her
mouth as she cast the borrowed blade away.  She had unwittingly
snatched up a
Myrdraal's weapon!  The smoke-black blade glimmered dully as it sput
through
the air and clattered on the pavement.  Ariana spent a full minute
scrubbing
her hands on her skirts, even though she knew it was a pointless
reaction.
"Ugh!"  The handle had been leather-bound, fortunately.  Though she was
afraid to ask what sort of leather it had been...  "I hope it was a
Trolloc's
filthy hide," she muttered, trying to build up her courage and get her
mind
back to the task of getting to...wherever those ter'angreal were.  She
was
still quaking from the thought of handling that horrid sword...
As though in answer to her thoughts, she heard an amplified voice cry,
"Rally
to the ter'angreal cache!"  echo over the milling hubbub of battle.
Slowly,
she found her way forward becoming easier, as more and more of the
enemy
(confused but obeying) began retreating toward where the cache might
be.
Another Fade met its fate, this time with a clean weave of Fire and
Earth.
Ariana was taking no more chances with borrowed swords, and her staff
couldn't get through that black armor. Trollocs, too, fell as the
determined
Healer fought her way through the twists and turns of the city, though
she
realized that she had to have at least one to follow.  She elected one
at
random, one halfway between her and the next turn of the street they
were on,
and continued the race to the cache.

~erin

 Myiona was startled when Stevan led the tower and the other tower to their hiding place. She realized the truth before he even spoke to Mera'shar, but there was no time to react. She sent her followers into the battle quickly, holding only a couple back for her own protection. Mera'shar's attack was tiring him, she could feel that through the bond. The scene was playing out like in her dream, except for one element. Mura'shar had not yet arrived to confront his double. Myiona stood in the shadows, using the statue to aid her in channeling. She managed to take out a couple of the attackers indirectly, careful to keep attention from herself. Myiona watched Mera'shar carefully, preparing herself for the moment that she would need to escape. She knew that it was unlikely that she would be able to save him, but had instructed several of her men to do everything possible to aid him. She had located the most favorable location for a gateway and was ready to make her escape at a moment's notice. *************** She opened her eyes, finding herself lying in the dark and silence of an empty camp. Myiona wondered where everyone had gone. She could feel Mura'shar a little away from where she was lying. Taking a moment to clear her head, the Domani removed the weave that had kept her hidden. Myiona stood slowly, brushing dirt from her skirt. She looked at the dark colored garment she was wearing and made a face. That was one real difference between her and the other Myiona. Black was not a color she would choose to wear. She liked happy, bright colors. The Domani slipped through the shadows, trying to sneak like Alcinia and glad no one was around to see her glaring mistakes. She found the entrance to the cavern, but there seemed no way to get inside since the bulk of the fighting was right in the doorway. "I need another way in," she said softly and wondered around the area looking for another entrance. Myiona found a narrow opening and managed to squeeze into it. The ceiling got lower and lower the further in she went. Soon, the Domani was crawling through the dirt. She came to the opening, and crawled into a dark corner of the cavern. Myiona looked up to see several people a few feet away. She snuck closer and hid behind a rock. It was her double and a couple of Asha'men. Myiona knew that she could never take on all of them, but if she was careful she might be able to lure her double further into the corner. The other turned and looked right at where Myiona was hiding. She smiled and then began moving toward her. The two women both jumped at the same moment, slapping and clawing at each other. It was impossible to tell which was which because they were wearing identical dresses. They fell to the ground in a mass of black garments and flying hair. A knife appeared in the hands of one of the women, and she drove it into the other's chest, barely missing any major arteries. The two men jumped between the two, knocking the knife from the hand of one of the Myiona's. He hit her hard, knocking her senseless. A gateway was opened, and the men each carried one of the Myiona's through it and into an unknown city where help could be found. The gateway was held open from the other side . . .

 Ah'Lahn glared at the man.. How dare he interfere! Mistress Taria would be sorely displeased if he did not get what he was sent for. Glaring intently and deadly, he kept his hold in Saidin. "I will leave her be.. if she gave me what is not hers." He said in a steely voice. While Mura'shar had Ah'Lahn's attention, Talia fished out the ter'angreal from her pouch. She didn't know how to use it.. but she knew what it was supposed to do. Hopefully, it would work. Gritting her teeth and ignoring the pain of her wounds, she concentrated on Saidar.. letting it flow through the ter'angreal.. and she thought of nothing else except hurting Ah'Lahn. Ah'Lahn's eyes opened wide.. gasping just slightly and caught off guard by the sudden use of the ter'angreal. This was Mura'shar's opening. Deftly, while Ah'Lahn was distracted, Mura'shar struck, Spirit severed Ah'Lahn's hold on Saidin. The downed Asha'man staggered back.. losing balance, he fell to his knees. Talia stood, ignoring the pain... and immediately Talia's double seemingly appeared out of no where behind her. Before Mura'shar could call out to Talia, Mistress Taria (perturbed that her pet was now useless to her) snatched Talia by her hair.. "You will pay, sister.. dearly.." And the two of them were gone.. Mura'shar didn't have time to consider what might have happened to them. Ah'Lahn was crying out in mad fury, tearing his hair out with frustration and shouting for Saidin.. but it would not come. Ignoring him, Mura'shar followed a more urgent cry. That of Myiona's... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Sorry for the time it took me to reply.. I hope I didn't step on any toes there. I thought I'd leave an opening for Mura'shar to go see about Myiona.. *G*
~Talia Daimar <><
 
 Tareena stood in the arch of the doorway, picking off trollocs as they came into sight. The beauty of sadair filled her with its strength and light. Hearing a thud behind her and feeling a sudden emptiness in her mind, she turned, only to see her bondmate lying in a heap at the bottom of the stairs and a Mydraal at the top of them. Time seemed to suspend itself as she stared in horror at what had happened behind her. Awareness crashed into her. The Mydraal was going to leap and she could not get to her bondmate in time. Training, especially combat training, taught you two major things. One, survival at all costs. Two, utilize all resources to win. She knew she could take out the fade but could she do it before he landed? That was the question. Looking down she saw an awareness in Darran that had not been there before. Would he help them? Was he capable? Should she put her trust in him? She had no choice. She saw the Mydraal leap from the top of the stairs towards her bondmate. Making a split second decision, life or death hanging in the balance, she aimed for the Mydraal while simultaneously dropping the shield on Darran. The monumental relief she felt at seeing the Mydraal burst into flames could not eclipse her relief at Darran's actions. Without hesitation, he had sprung forward and had got Darren safely away from the danger. Tareena looked straight into his eyes, smiling her thanks and knowing that she had not guessed wrong. Still, it didn't hurt to be careful. She quickly put the shield back into place. Looking out into the street at the dying trollocs brought a certain sort of satisfaction. Once more they had taken a sticky situation and turned it to their benefit..of course in this case, it wasn't so much benefit as survival, but you take what you can get. Darren awoke, jerking around as he remembered what had put him there at the bottom of the stairs. Realizing the danger had passed, he shook his head and slowly came to his feet. "Are you steady enough to keep moving ahead?" Tareena asked him. With a simple nod of assurance and a grimace at his headache, he led the way from the building, stopping only to retrieve the sword from his double. Tareena filled him in on the events which happened while he was out cold. Darren turned a calculating look at his double but did not comment. Tareena could guess at his feelings. She was as confused as she as to what was going to become of their new charge. There was no time to discuss it however, as sounds of battle began to reach their ears. They reached the enemy camp just as a battle cry was ringing forth. RALLY TO THE TER'ANGREAL!! Someone shouted. Tareena thought it was Stevan but she couldn't be sure. Following the rear of people, they came upon what appeared to be a cave. Tareena and the rest listened as Stevan taunted what appeared to be Mur'ashar but by now, Tareena knew it was his double. Knowing they were about to fight once more, She again reached for Sadiar and allowed it to fill her, in defense of the light.

 Mura'shar blinked.  Talia and her red-clad double were gone.
Ah'Lan
remained writhing on the ground, still not quite believing he had been
severed.  Mura'shar was still trying to figure out if the battle was
over or
not when he felt something through his bond.  Myiona was hurt.
    Following the path the battle took since he had dropped behind, and
leaving the moaning Ah'Lan lying in the dirt, Mura'shar raced ahead.
There
were few people of either Tower about, and all were headed in the same
direction he was going.
    His flight took him out of the camp, to a small cavern well-hidden
in the
rocks.  Saidin was being channeled in there. And saidar, if his
goosebumps
were any indication.  But  Myiona wasn't there now.  Was there another
entrance to the cave?
    Peering inside, Mura'shar saw a scene of chaos.  Asha'man and
Dragonsworn
were battling side by side against Asha'man and Dragonsworn.  Here and
there
a Trolloc or Fade also fought, and a larger group of Fades stood guard
over
their objective, cutting down anyone who got too close.
    Mura'shar found the one face whom he could be absolutely certain
was an
enemy's:  his own.  He was battling Stevan with sword and a glove-like
ter'angreal.  Wherever he pointed it, a pale light emitted from a gem
on the
palm, and another Soldier fell screaming. .  Stevan was forced to stand
alone
against Mera'shar and his cronies shadowing him.
    He must have had something to do with Myiona's injury  With a
bellow,
Mura'shar launched himself at his double, bellowing a challenge.
    Mera'shar turned and pointed his glove at Mura'shar, waves of pain
washed
over him, blinding him.  Mera'shar strode forward to finish him off,
keeping
the gem pointed at Mura'shar's face
    "So good to see you again" he hissed "  If you're looking for your
bondmate, I believe she went that way with a couple of new friends of
mine"
he gestured at an open gateway hidden in a corner of the cavern
    How did he know the gateway was there?  But that one thought was
washed
away by a renewed blast from the glove, and Mura'shar staggered
backwards.
    Stevan tried to come to his aid, but several Asha'man, Myiona's to
judge
by their outfits cut him off.  Mera'shar raised his sword.  Mura'shar
channeled desperately.
    A whirlwind formed, centered between the two Asha'man, and sent all
the
nearby combatants slamming against the walls.  Mura'shar went flying
and
slammed into a dark mass.
    Dazed, he looked up to find himself sprawled in the middle of the
ter'angreal pile, and surrounded my Myrdrall.  Several had been knocked
of
their feet by the force of his passing.
    Mura'shar scrambled to his feet.  He randomly grabbed an item, a
coiled
stone snake about the size of hand, and leaped away before the Fades
could
strike.  Dodging several black blades, encasing himself in a shield of
Air,
he somehow managed to get away from the ter'angreal unscathed
    Getting to his feet, Mura'shar made for the still open gateway.
Heedless
of what may lie on the other side, Mura'shar leaped through.
___________________________________________
Mera'shar recovered quickly, shaking off the effects of his blow
against the
wall.  He grined as his idiot double leaped through the gateway.  He
didn't
know where it led to, but at least he was't his problem anymore.
Still...
    "Bernard!" he shouted to his second in command.  Take six men,
seven
women, and thirteen Fades.  Take them through that gateway!  I want
that
Lightfriend to come back as an ally! "

________________________
Okay, I'm a bit tired, so I'll end it here:)

Jake
Marked Asha'man

 Myiona opened her eyes and took a good look around. She caught sight of the two men talking quietly nearby and glared at them. She stood up and walked over slapping one in the face. "Fool," she said, "you have totally ignored my instructions." She turned to the other man. "Idiots, both of you. Which one of you hit me and knocked me out? Answer!" After a bit of mumbling, one stepped forward. Myiona channeled a weave of spirit into his brain. He fell to his knees, drooling. The other man stepped in front of him. "No more mistress," he begged. "The two of us are all that remains to protect you. We need him." Myiona lashed out at him as well, leaving him unsteady on his feet. "Do not ever try to tell me what to do again," she snarled. "Next time I will not be so lenient." She walked over the the other woman lying bleeding in the dirt. "I suppose I should heal her," Myiona says hesitantly, "but only enough to save her life. I do not want her attacking me again." She knelt beside the other woman and smiled, tucking a statue into her own dress. Myiona pulled the dagger out, wiping it on the other's dress and tucked it inside her boot. Then she healed the wound, but did nothing to help the other back toward consciousness. Myiona had stood up and turned around as someone jumped out of the gateway. "Well," she said with a smile, "what have we here? My plaything has come back to me of his own free will." She walked over and helped him to his feet, tracing a finger down his chest. "Did you miss me too much to stay away?" she asked. "I know that you will enjoy what I have to share with you. Battles can be so stimulating. Don't you agree?" Myiona put her mouth next to his ear and brushed a kiss against the side of his face. She whispered something in his ear and then turned to walk away.
Vicky
aka Myiona

 Darran followed Darren and Tareena, understanding that he was essentially a prisoner. Not that they were binding him beyond a shield on the power. And to some extent, he was glad he was not trusted enough to be given a weapon yet. There were some people in his tower whom he had not hated so much that he was ready to kill them just for their weakness. As he was thinking that, they were ambushed by several trollocs and a dreadlord. Darran dove between Tareena and Darren to get out of their way. {{Forget the benefits of neutrality. I want a sword!}} By the time he looked up, the attackers were either charred or perforated. Darren took the sword of the dreadlord. Darran had to settle for one of the trollocs' spears. Darren looked at him harshly, but after a moment shrugged. As they advanced, Darran played around with the spear to get an idea of how to defend himself with it. It was very heavy, but light enough that he could wield it without the power to help him. Then they arrived. Ahead of them there was chaos. Here and there, there were duel-like fights, but by and large it was people stabbing where they saw openings and getting away from the more powerful enemies that saw them. Darran finally spoke up. "You could probably use someone on your back, right?" Darren nodded. "Don't go anywhere." He gave Tareena a completely unveiled meaningful glance, and charged. **** {{The power is not flying very thickly in this battle, for some reason... annoying. When my enemies rely on it, I am at my greatest advantage. And these mismatched swords! One is too heavy, the other too light}} No one but the greatest teachers of the sword and Darren himself could see the minor flaws in Darran's style that his weapons caused. Not that they weren't there - he almost lost his head trying to parry a heavy blow with his left-hand sword and finding it too light. But Tareena was indeed covering him - she knocked the man back with air. Darren's interfering abilities finally came in handy as the man tried to block Tareena's attack with an air shield of his own. The shield never formed, and he was down. A few moments later, Darren heard what he had been dreading: Tareena shouting, "Darran, what are you doing?" Darren glanced back. Darran was running for an open portal, swinging wildly with his spear. Even in the dense battle, most combatants found a way to get out of the way of that spear. Tareena shouted, "Get against a wall!" {{Of course we wouldn't last very long out in the middle, with no one watching our rear}} Even as he complied, Darren cursed Darran, wishing he could chase him down and gut him. **** Darran didn't hear the whole order. he just heard "Thirteen." It was enough. {{They have a prisoner they are going to turn. That, I can't stand aside for.}} Darran shouted back to Tareena, "Get up against a wall!" and charged the direction he heard that word. Startled, Tareena shouted, "Darran, what are you doing?", but seeing no option, as her rearguard had vanished, complied. Darran swung the heavy spear like a walking stick bending grass out of the way - it was just a means to clearing the way, not to actually doing damage. It was slow enough people could dodge, so they did. And he was there. Mera'shar's gateway was still open, and the last of the myrdraal were making their way through. Darran ran up to him. "What's happening?" Mera'shar had clearly not heard of his defection, for he answered instead of attacking. "Stevan was repla...rgh" Mera'shar folded as the butt of Darran's spear hit him in the gut. Darran leapt through the portal before it fell apart. The myrdraal hissed and turned to fight. {{Wonder whether they knew or they heard me take Mera'shar down?}} Darran retreated as their first blows came in. A moment later, the gateway collapsed and Tareena's shield on Darran failed. Saidin filled him, and he channelled. This time when he swung his spear, it was not a staff but a scythe. Three thakandar-forged blades clattered against the wall, torn from their wielders' grips. Ahead of him, the myrdraal stepped into the shadows and disappeared. To keep himself safe from a nasty surprise, Darran made a light, and put it above his head so there would be no shadows behind him. "Now, where is that prisoner? Myrdraal can be replaced..." He took off in the direction the myrdraal had been heading. **** Luke
Darran
Darren

 Myiona put her mouth next to his ear and brushed a kiss against the side of his face. She whispered something in his ear and then turned to walk away. Mura'shar tried to hide a smile. She had whispered his name. No one else in this world could know that, save his double, perhaps, and he doubted he would have told the other Myiona. Playing along, Mura'shar cringed before her. "Yes, mistress" he replied meekly "Life was so empty without you" "Then come here and stay with me and my double" Myiona turned away and walked over to the prone form of the Darkfriend. There was blood all over her robes and a bloodstained knife at her side. She was still alive, but unconscious. Mura'shar sat down gratefully as Myiona turned to her two "bodyguards" "Stay by the gateway and see that we aren't disturbed. We will rejoin you shortly" They saluted and backed away. Mura'shar took a moment to get his breath. Then asked "What do we do now? We can't fool them forever, and the others need us" "I don't know" Myiona said and looked worried "But we're safe for the moment, and we have a prisoner. We'll figure something out" Mura'shar was about to agree, when he sensed Saidin being channeled. A lot of it. Myiona gasped as a figure strode out of the shadows, followed by another, and another. Myrdraal! Asha'man and aes Sedai followed, poring from the gateway. "Link" Mura'shar said, and filled himself with saidin, drawing as much as he could from the angreal. Myiona joined him, holding a small statue flecked with the blood of her duplicate. They were surrounded, but determined to give the best fight they could. The attack didn't come. The Fades were content to stand in a circle around them. Mura'shar didn't bother to count, but there must have been ten or so. And behind each one was a member of the Black Tower. "What are they doing?" he asked aloud. "They are here to turn you" croaked a weak voice. Mura'shar looked down to see the other Myiona was awake. She was pale and weak, but her voice was clear "Thirteen channelers and thirteen fades can force one with the ability to channel to turn to the Shadow. It is difficult and unpleasant. But it can be done. I've seen it happen. I've done it before, even" "Mura'shar, we have to leave, now!" Myiona was terrified Mura'shar was too, he admitted, but where to go? They didn't know the area to form a gateway yet, and they would be cut down if they tried to clear a path. "I can help you" the Darkfriend whispered as she tried to sit up. "I will help you escape. But I want something in return. Mera'shar. He's hurt. But he's my bondmate" she added that part with a frown "I now have an interest in keeping him alive. I want you to deliver him from the battle alive. Have we a deal?" The circle was nearly complete. Mura'shar could already feel attempts to shield him as more and more Darkfriends joined the link. There were mutterings among them. Some of the Fades wee reporting trouble was following them. They had a little time, but not much It seemed a shadow was starting to form over his perception, like a bit of darkness was entering his mind. Mura'shar tried to shake it of as he looked at his bondmate "We have no choice" she shrugged "What else can we do? We either die or turn to the Shadow" She turned to her double. "What do we do?"
Jake
Marked Asha'man

 Myiona sat up slowly, recovering her strength as she moved. "Fools," she said to the myrdraal, "you were to guard the cache. Now it is virtually defenceless! Perhaps you shall be my playthings when this is finished." The Asha'men and Aes Sedai looked uncertain as the Myrdraal turned and walked back to the gateway. "I will follow you shortly bringing my prisoners," Myiona said. "We can turn them to the shadow later, after the lightfriends are destroyed." Myiona watched them leave with an angry, commanding air. The Asha'men and Aes Sedai almost followed, but they were thrown back as the gateway closed. "Deal with them," she ordered her two followers. The two men attacked killing their fellows without remorse. They knew better than to refuse a command by their mistress. Bodies flew apart as the two men used the power to destroy the men and women. One of the women knelt on the ground begging for her life. She promised to do anything. One of the men looked to his mistress questioningly. "You may have her my pet," Myiona said in a caressing voice. "Think of her as your reward for years of faithful service." She laughed as he raised the woman to her feet and bonded her. "Enough playing," Mura'shar hissed, "we have to get back if we are to save your bondmate." She nodded. "Open a gateway back to just outside the cave," she told the men, "we will sneak in and grab Mera'shar while you go to the aid of your friends. If you must attack him, the ter'angreal you have Mura'shar will stun without causing any permanent harm. I would hate for him to be harmed." Myiona realized that she meant that, and that she now had feelings for Mera'shar. She looked to Myiona and asked, "Does double bonding always lead to emotional entanglement?" Myiona of the Green Ajah laughed at her counterpart. "From my experience," she said with a twinkle in her eyes, "it does. He is a complicated man on any world. I wish you good luck with him. I doubt you can tame him, but you might like the rough edges." They stepped through the gateway followed by the two henchmen. They flanked the Myiona of the Black Ajah. The newly bonded Aes Sedai had a wild look in her eye, as if she wondered if death would have been preferable.
Vicky
aka Myiona

 Mura'shar was shocked at the carnage the tow darkfriends wreaked upon the circle around them. In moments, they were all dead or fled, and one of the bodyguards had a new bondmate for his efforts. And the darkfriend Myiona was enjoying the spectacle. "Enough playing," Mura'shar hissed, "we have to get back if we are to save your bondmate." He would rather have killed them both. But a promise was a promise. If she hadn't countermanded those orders, he didn't want to think of the consequences. In fact, if those Fades hadn't been so slow in getting here, and Myiona had still been unconscious... "Open a gateway back to just outside the cave," she told the men, "we will sneak in and grab Mera'shar while you go to the aid of your friends. If you must attack him, the ter'angreal you have Mura'shar will stun without causing any permanent harm. I would hate for him to be harmed." She said that with such force that Mura'shar actually believed her. How odd, since they had most certainly bonded each other against their will. He still shuddered at what happened when she had bonded him. That presence in his mind. I guess they were simply made for each other. He glanced at His own bondmate And I guess that shouldn't surprise me at all. As the gateway opened, the two Myionas had their heads together and giving him odd looks. The Darkfriend looked worried. As they stepped through, they heard a clash and shouts behind them. Mura'shar jumped back through the gateway. "Hold it open" he instructed the bodyguards. The two Myionas were right on his heels as one of them shouted "Do as he says." Mura'shar wondered how the battle could have found its way here. Or was this something unrelated. But he had a hunch. Something had kept some of the Fades from joining the circle, delayed them long enough for Myiona to act. If that person or people was in trouble now because of that, he was obligated to help. It was near where the original gateway had stood open that Mura'shar saw Darren. A ball of light hung over his head, bathing the area around him in light. Several Fades were stalking around him, testing his defenses. His only weapon was a huge Trolloc spear. His face was set in determination. Mura'shar had to help. Darren's block kept him from channeling except to block other channeling. If the Myrdraal knew this Asha'man was that vulnerable, they could easily rush him. Mura'shar chose to rush them instead. He decided to test this new ter'angreal. A weave of Spirit, and suddenly, the coiled snake statue's head reared back as if to strike. A touch of Fire, and a blue bolt of energy shot from its mouth, striking one of the Fades from behind. The Halfman jerked and spasmed as it fought for control of its muscles. Mura'shar fired again, and it collapsed thrashing in typical Myrdraal death-throes. "Two shots will kill almost any living creature" the Darkfriend Myiona explained as she stood by his side" "Do not forget that" It was a very thinly veiled warning, he knew. The rest of the Fades had seen them and attacked. Mura'shar kept using the ter'angreal, learning it's functions while the two Myionas' channeling kept the Fades at bay. Soon only the one Darren was fighting was left. Mura'shar took careful aim, but before he could channel again, Darren struck out, with Saigon, and cut the Fade in two. Saigon? Then this wasn't Darren! Mura'shar shifted the ter'angreal to cover the Darkfriend "What are you doing here? Who are you?" he demanded. __________________________________________ Mera'shar stood up, coughing. That had to have been Darien's duplicate, the one with the block. His ribs ached but he didn't think anything was broken. He spit. No blood, also a good sign. The battle was less than encouraging. Every time it looked like things were under control, more of those blasted Lightfriends showed up! And then he had to go and send all those Fades after Mura'shar. A mistake in pride, but it was to late to fix it now. "Sir, are you all right?" one of his underlings looked worried as Mera'shar straightened up" "Yes, I'm fine, leave me be!" Mera'shar snarled and picked up his sword. People would spend a long time dying for this fiasco, and he wasn't going to be one of them. He just hoped Bernard had done as he told him and managed to turn Mura'shar. He'd make a powerful ally when that happened...
Jake
Marked Asha'man
 
 Mura'shar took careful aim, but before he could channel again, Darren struck out, with Saidin, and cut the Fade in two. {{Saidin? Then this isn't Darren!}} Mura'shar shifted the ter'angreal to cover the Darkfriend "What are you doing here? Who are you?" he demanded. {{I should have known he was the other Darren, since Darren isn't even in this world. We left him in Seanchan! But... myrdraal were attacking him.}} **** Darran spoke carefully so as not to get himself blasted. {{What is Myiona doing here? Surely she can't have had a change of heart!}} "I am Darran Sathke, counterpart of your Darren Sadke. I was trying to rescue you. I could not let you be forced. I can only imagine a fate worse than it because I have gone through it myself." Darran continued, gesturing to the myrdraal. "As you can see, I am free now." Myiona was aghast. "You will die the worst of deaths. Betrayers are sent to Semirhage. You are just important enough you might be sent straight to the crack." "If that happens, it happens. I now could no more fight for the dark than you could... well, there isn't really anything you won't do, is there? I guess you will never understand such a simple thing as moral imperative." "Fool." Darran smirked. "You're talking? Look who just killed two Myrdraal!" She huffed up, riposting, "Part of a deal so as not to lose two of the Great Lord's most powerful dreadlords." "By that I am sure you mean save your own skin. Not that that will help much. Attacking a myrdraal is like slapping the Dark One. At least I won't be heading back to him to report on my failed mission. Send my regards to Semirhage. Her pet is about to become her patient!" "You!" Darran ignored her, and instead spoke to Mura'shar and his bondmate. "She was correct in one regard: the Dark One cannot tolerate those who have left his service. Letting me join you will be dangerous, but I will surely die soon otherwise. And if you let me die, then the Dark One will get what he wants. And if I live, I will..." Mura'shar continued, "...be proof that one can turn back to the light and live." Myiona snickered, "That won't happen." Again, Darran ignored her. "Also, since the Dark One may send his worst, we may have a chance to fight and destroy them while they are away from Shayol Ghul." "You mean we should use you as bait?" "As long as I am alive, I am bait. The only question is whether there is a trap around me. And... I know things. They may be different in your world. But they may not." ****
Luke
Darran;
Darren, bondmate of Tareena

 Talia couldn't move. That was the first thing she was aware of as she awoke as if from a nightmare. Or was she just.. going from one nightmare to another? That was the next thought.. Is this real? She seemed to remember going in and out of this or that place.. confusion taking over her mind. "While your friends ruin our plans, I've decided to make you pay for their sins. How about that, dearie?" Talia was aware of a hand tightening a grip in her hair.. pulling. Talia's neck was taught with the strain of her head being pulled back so. She couldn't place the who or why of her situation. When she tried to grasp it.. it fled her mind. "A.. darkfriend.. talkin' of.. sins.. how.. 'musing.." Talia managed to mumble out. The answer was a sound smack across her jaw with.. Taria.. the back of Taria's hand. "Yes.. sins against the Great Lord! Your vile Light-blinded friends are so naive to think that defeating his Dreadlords will in any way deter him. I pity you and your Tower, filthy Dragonsworn.." Talia's head slammed forward into a hard object.. Now, Talia knew why she couldn't place much of anything.. she had a blindfold on. Her head swum with pain.. a trickle of blood ran down her forehead.. soaking into the blindfold. "Then kill me.. if that's what.. you are.. gettin' at.." Talia's voice was weak and distant. Taria laughed. "Kill you? The Great Lord forbid.. No, sweeting. You.. are my new pet. Poor Ah'Lahn.. severed from Saidin. He's of no use to me now." Despite her situation, Talia felt an odd pang of sympathy for the Darkfriend version of her love and bondmate. Suddenly a familiar wash of power went through her.. then she was aware of a particularly cruel and dangerous personality in her mind. "No..." She whispered.. Never had she thought to be threatened by bonding.. for it was never done without the permission of both parties in the Black Tower. Now.. it would be used to put fear into her. "No.." She said with more force. The feeling of amusement and smug triumph came through the bond from Taria. She laughed scornfully. "I've never bonded a woman before.. let alone a version of myself from such a pitiful alter world. You actually had feelings for Ah'Lahn's double.. didn't you?" Talia frowned.. scowled. She tested her restraints again, but to no avail. "Through you.. I could find him.. and replace my lost pet.." Taria said.. musing the possibilities. "You leave your filthy Dark-tainted hands off of him, you twisted daughter of a mule!" Talia managed to say aloud, trying in vain to touch the source.. feel Saidar course through her. It wasn't there. Oh, she could feel it's presence.. but she could not touch it. The sounds of battle rang around them. Taria ignored it. She smirked as she flailed Talia with whips of Air. Yes, Taria felt it. Taria enjoyed it. She watched as Talia cried out.. ~~~~~~~~
Talia
aka T-shirt
<><

 When the tired Healer finally found her way to her Tower, she was quite out of breath, but it seemed that she could rest a moment. No one of their group seemed particularly in need of her skills, though the bodies of Darkfriends and Shadowspawn lay all about in a grisly if silent testament to the conflict that had been played out here. Fades still thrashed about, some waving black blades that their dead hands still clutched, while others flailed weaponless hands. Ariana pictured the one she had killed, in her mind, and the Darkfriends who had gotten in her way. That smile disappeared all too quickly, however, as Ariana realized what she was doing. Smiling at death. Even the death of a Myrdraal was not something pleasant, she reminded herself firmly. As a Healer, death had always saddened her; it twisted her stomach into sick-making knots now to think that she could enjoy killing. She caught only pieces of Stevan's speech, so involved was she in taking her internal inventory. "You have all fought... had to face yourself..." The words were mostly ignored as Ariana wondered. Have I become what I hate? Have I become my double, or started to become her, a creature that cares only for herself? But that brought revulsion, almost comforting in its immediate and powerful surge. Still, she knew that fighting herself, a twisted version of herself, had changed her. She stood silently, a small figure alone toward the back of the crowd, as Stevan wrapped up and turned to Xyranthes, who stood at his side. "Will we be able to carry all of these back in one trip?" The librarian nodded, and Stevan opened a gateway to the portal stone. "Everyone, take as many ter'angreal as you can carry and deposit them by the portal stone. When we've transferred all of them, we can travel home..." Still quiet and thoughtful, Ariana grabbed up an armload and walked toward the portal stone... and home.

 Rengar was standing at the edge of a cliff, staring at the waves as the rolled endlessly towards the beach and then back again into the ocean. Never changing, always in constant, simple motion; against the shore and then back again. Rengar could only wish that his life were that simple, since he knew very well that his life was indeed very different from the life the waves led. His life was always in a constant state of change, and though at times he felt as though that was the only way for him to live, there were other times that made him wish he could give up all of his abilities to live the rest of his life in peace. If only it were possible, since he was sure that there were a great number of people who dreamed of having the kind of power that he and others like him possessed. But those kinds of people never understood the negative effects the Power had on you, and how the more you used it, the faster an unstoppable and terrible madness would descend upon your life, smothering sanity. "Rengar, dear?" a calm, beautiful voice called from behind him, causing him to jump and turn around quickly, grabbing hold of the Power. However, when he saw who had called his name he immediately let go of the Power and turned around again quickly to face the waves, embarrassed at how he had let Odessa's voice startle him. It would have been bad enough for any woman's voice to have put him on edge like that, but his own wife's..."Rengar, you should be inside, in bed. You know that you haven't been feeling well, lately, and standing out here on a morning like this isn't going to help your body heal any faster. Now come inside." "It's not my body that needs healing, Odessa," Rengar said, continuing his stern vigilance over the ocean, refusing to meet his wife's green eyes. He was feeling bad enough as it was, and he certainly didn't need to feel guilty by seeing the hurt in Odessa's eyes, and the feeling of pity they had taken on ever since he had begun to show the signs of madness. "And no amount of sleep or soup is going to stop what is going to happen to me. Even if it is very good soup." Odessa smiled at that, which made Rengar smile in turn. One of the few smiles he had harbored during the past few months, or years, for that matter. When you had been a part of the Black Tower for as long as he had you found that smiling became harder and harder the longer you stayed. At least, that had been the case with him. Of course, there were others who had served at the same time he did, and most of them had gone on to live happily in retirement. A few were still with the Black Tower, in fact, though he had not heard from those people for a long while. But he, unfortunately, was not one of those people who had left the Tower on their own terms, by their own choice. No, Rengar's decision to leave the Tower had been forced on him by the fact that he had become a danger to himself and those around him, at least in Taim's eyes. Odessa had generously left the Tower as well, and the two of them had moved to Arad Doman, Odessa home country, to live what little time Rengar had left in peace. "Rengar, I...I just want you to come inside. I don't like it when you're out here, alone. It...makes me feel lonely," Odessa said, and Rengar could sense the half-truth in the words immediately after they came out of Odessa's mouth. Another thing that the creepy madness did was make one more suspicious of things and people they would have never normally suspected of anything sinister. How bad have things gotten, when I can't even trust my own wife? Rengar wondered, finally willing himself to turn around and face Odessa. He still looked fairly normal, though the signs of madness had begun to take their toll, as his eyes had sunken in a bit more, as had the rest of his face. A long amount of stubble had grown, untamed, along the bottom of his cheeks, chin, and throat, and his hair had also grown longer. Since resigning to his fate Rengar had not really seen the point in trying to keep his appearance respectable, since everyone except his closest friends from the Tower dared, or cared, to come out and visit him and Odessa out here, in the middle of nowhere. The perfect place for two people who wanted nothing more than each other's company, Rengar thought, as he had when he had decided to purchase the land, two years ago. "All right, Odessa. I'll be along in a few minutes. I just...needed some fresh air, that's all. It helps heal the mind, and that's what I really need right now," Rengar thought to himself, allowing himself those few minutes to admire the waves, to envy the simplicity of their existence. But then reality began to set in, slowly but surely, and Rengar made his way back to his house, where he hoped to have a memorable night with the only woman who had truly captured his heart and soul from the first moment he had laid eyes on her. And in the midst of all the wrong that was his life, Rengar al'Tomount couldn't help but feel happy that one thing in his life, at least, had the power to put all of his doubts and fears to rest. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dengar woke up to find the darkness still staring at him, something that he had certainly not expected. The last memory that came to his mind at the moment was readying a gateway so that he could Travel back up to the surface. His equivalent from the other dimension, Rengar al'Tomount, must have attacked him when he had let his guard down, just before he was about to open a gateway. Not that it mattered that much, other than the fact that he had been defeated by what he had considered to be an inferior being. But Dengar was very good at swallowing his pride; he needed to be, in the company of people who were much more calculated and cruel that he could ever wish to be. All that mattered now was getting back to the surface and formulating a new plan to kill Rengar al'Tomount. However, Dengar realized now that accomplishing his task would not be as simple as he had once thought; he would need to be much more discreet and secretive if he was going to catch Rengar off guard. And that was the only way he saw to kill Rengar, since his direct approach had failed. "He'll regret the day he first laid eyes on me," Dengar said aloud, as he made his way through the abandoned streets of Rhiudean. "It's only a matter of time..." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Rengar should have known. The Black Tower camp was all but abandoned now; either every had left to fight their counterparts, or the fighting had taken place here. Fortunately, it didn't look like the latter was the case, judging from the condition of the tents and the camp in general. But what was he going to do? Wait here until they got back? No, Rengar knew that he had to go back to the city, and try to find his friends. Then again, how would he be able to tell who was from his Tower or not? After spending an unknown amount of time in that dark pit with Dengar Rengar didn't real at all like trying to figure out anything that complicated at the moment. But Rengar's thoughts were taken away from those problems as he heard a crunching sound close by. Someone was here in the camp, Rengar knew, but he couldn't tell whether it was one of his friends or enemies. Rengar stood as rigid as a statue, waiting to hear another sound, but the person who had been sneaking into the camp had obviously noticed that they had made a fault and were being extra careful now not to make another noise. Rengar continued to wait, looking around to see if he could catch any glimpse at all of the person who was with him hear, but he couldn't. "Well, I thought you, of all people, wouldn't have let me sneak up on you so easily again," a voice called out, and Rengar knew exactly to whom the voice belonged. And as Rengar looked on grimly, Dengar suddenly appeared, a smirk on his face. "Why don't you go back to your own Tower? Haven't you already learned what happens when you try to interfere with ours?" Rengar asked, and he was slightly pleased to see that smirk wiped right off of Dengar's face. The other man's face now seemed to register hatred and, if it were possible, fear. "I'm warning you, Dengar. Leave, now before my annoyance with you becomes anger." "You, threatening me? I must say you are a very funny man, Rengar al'Tomount. You want to finish this? Then let's finish it," Dengar said, and suddenly Rengar's eyes began to burn as dust was blown into them from the ground below. Before he knew what was happening Dengar was inches away from him with his own sword drawn and swooping down towards Rengar's head. Rengar was able to dodge the attack only a split second before his head would have been rolling on the ground. "Is that your idea of a good attack?" Rengar said, his voice teeming with anger both at his attacker and at himself for not anticipating that kind of tactic. With Striker drawn Rengar made his way at Dengar, slashing wildly, narrowly missing Dengar's body and slashing up his uniform until it was nearly beyond recognition. Dengar retaliated by throwing a weave of Water at Rengar's chest, knocking him backwards until he hit the ground fifteen feet later, with a hard thump. Rengar jumped up immediately, his veins filled with adrenaline, and put his hand out in front of him, weaving Air so that it created a dust cloud in front of him, making him very hard to see. The trick seemed to work, since Rengar was able to catch Dengar off guard and knock him to the ground with a fist to his head. Rengar quickly put his foot on the other man's throat and took the opportunity to shield Dengar. Rengar then took Striker so that the tip of the sword was pressing lightly on the left side of Dengar's chest, above the heart. But just as Rengar was about to finish his opponent off a thought ran through his mind. What would the consequences be if he killed his counterpart? Would the killing of Dengar in this dimension cause a ripple that would kill every Rengar in every conceivable dimension? This theory caused Rengar to pause, and Dengar's face began to shine with the realization that Rengar might spare his life. But this man and his Tower are trying to kill my friends. They all have to be stopped, including him. If I have to die to save the others, it will be a good death. Besides, with those dreams I've been having, maybe it would be a service to everyone if I... Rengar's thoughts were interrupted suddenly as Dengar suddenly threw Rengar off of him, and know put himself in the same position Rengar had been in just a few moments before. However, Dengar didn't seem to have any reservations at all about killing his counterpart, and as Dengar's blade came closer and closer to his heart Rengar closed his eyes, ready to see his life flash before his eyes... But after a few moments Rengar didn't feel any pain; no sword going through his chest. Instead, when Rengar opened his eyes, he saw a bewildered expression on Dengar's face, and a small dagger sticking out of the back of his head. Quickly Rengar pushed the other man's body off his of his got back to his feet, and was very surprised by who he saw standing a few feet away from him. Odessa ran over to him, putting her arms around him and hugging Rengar closely to her. Rengar was to startled to do anything but let Odessa do what she wanted, but after a few moments he was able to get his bearings back, and his broke away from Odessa arms. "Odessa? What are you doing here? Where did you come from?" Rengar asked, but before he could ask any more of the thousands of questions he had for his bond mate at that moment. But before he could say anything Odessa began to rant, "Rengar, where have you been?! I've been searching the entire city for you...well, not really, but still! Going off without even telling you own bond mate where you were going! I swear, if I had the energy right now, I would-" Odessa was saying, before Rengar interrupted her with a kiss. That action seemed to give Rengar the opportunity Rengar needed to speak, since Odessa stared at him with her green eyes sparkling. "It's all right, Odessa. I'm fine now, thanks to you," Rengar said, glancing over at Dengar's corpse, which was now surrounded by large black birds. "I was...just stuck in a really dark place for a while, and it took me a while for me to get out. And it was Darren who found me, as a matter of fact." "Well, it's not like he was looking for you, like I was. He probably just stumbled upon your little predicament, and thought to himself afterwards about how much of a fool you are," Odessa said, and from the slowly procession of his breaths and the draining of red from her cheeks Rengar could see that she was beginning to calm down. "So, how did you meet this nice fellow?" "Oh, he found me, actually. And not to make you jealous, Odessa, but I think I spent more time alone with him than I ever have with you?" Rengar said, his eyes twinkling as he saw Odessa realize what he was implying. "So, how about it? Do you want to try and make up for lost time?" "Maybe later, after we find the others," Odessa said, smiling demurely. She was obviously enjoying the look on Rengar's face at being turned down so abruptly by a woman. "Well, there's a first time for everything," Rengar thought to himself, as he got behind Odessa as she rode her horse to find the others. Rengar could only hope, as he looked on towards the ruins of Rhiudean, that the others had fared with their counterparts the same way he had. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sorry it's taken so long to get this one out, but with all of the account switching I've been doing lately it's been hard to keep the RPs all in one place so that I can read them. Anyhow, this will have to do for now, I guess. And also, please change the e-mail address on the mailing list back to Trekman177@yahoo.com. I've been locked out of the other account for some reason, and the only new RP I've read was from Miya. It was good, but I do hate missing the rest of the RPs like this. Well, everyone have a good week, I guess. (Couldn't think of any upcoming holidays, sorry.)
Kyle

 Tareena sat quietly upon her window seat staring out but failing to see the beautiful fields which surrounded the Black Tower. Instead she focused inward, reliving over and over again the scene outside the camp where she had came upon Myiona and two Soldiers of the tower. The images would not leave her mind, haunting her dreams at night and coloring her thoughts during the day. The return to the tower from Rhuidean should have been cause for rejoicing. After all, they had completed their mission, returned the stolen Ter'angreal to the rightful Rhuidean and returned home still alive. Well, some of them had anyway. Tareena shifted positions, trying to make herself relax, feeling the tension playing across her neck and shoulders. Squeezing her eyes shut, she fought to keep the tears which had suddenly welled up in her eyes from falling. She had cried enough for her friend, the time for tears had passed. The look in Myiona's eyes when she was placed under guard was burned into her memory. The shock on Mura'shar's face when he realized what was happening. Angry words had been exchanged, words that could not be taken back, not now, not ever. Tareena had maintained her calm throughout, but at a price. Her stomach had roiled and threatened to sick up but she had managed. She had a responsibility to the tower, to maintain its justice and honor. Myiona had broken that by her actions. She had killed to members of the tower out of anger and retribution. She had failed to follow an order to inform her bondmate and Stevan of the trouble, so that they may follow the chain of command and take care of the situation. Worst of all, she had broken a promise to Tareena. Somehow, that hurt worst of all. Today was the day when it all came to a head. Today was the beginning of the proceedings. Why did it feel like an ending? A knock on the door brought Tareena out of her reverie. Moving slowly, feeling as though every step was taking her to somewhere she most certainly did not want to be, she reached out and opened the door. The sight of her bondmate, as always, brought a warm feeling inside of her. She stood and stared into his eyes, hoping to find strength from within their depths. She found concern, compassion and yet, did she see uncertainty there as well? Perhaps but she averted her eyes before the truth could make itself readily apparent. Better to not see what she did not want too. A small noise broke the silence. Standing behind Darren and to his left, Darran stood there, a shadow of her bondmate. Since returning to the tower, he had not left his side. Sentiment was running high in the tower, there were very few friendly faces where he was concerned. Oddly enough, it had been Myiona and Mura'shar who had spoken for him, addressing the concerns of the other Ashaman and Dragonsworn. They had told the story of his help in the caves of Rhuidean. Only the strong respect people had for them, allowed Darran to stay. Tareena had a feeling it was not over yet. With a sigh, she moved through the doorway and out into the hall. The day was beautiful, the sun shining in through the glass high above their heads. Dust motes danced across their path to a merry tune only they could hear. The sounds of their footsteps echoed through the corridor. Step by step they moved forward. Twin images flanked Tareena on both sides, silently offering their support. From the one on her left, she could feel it, strong and steady through the bond that they shared. From the one on her right, she could feel it pressing close to her side, almost as powerful, without a bond. Head up and resolve in place, she continued on, the weight of a mountain pressing down upon her chest.

 Setting: A weaponsmith's home in the borderlands. The decor is austere, but somehow aesthetic. Darren and Darran, and a smith, are present. The day after we return; the day before Tareena's RP. Darren hoped Darran was behaving as instructed. The purchase of a fine weapon from a master smith to an outlander was unusual to say the least. Darren had pulled every string he could to get this interview, and he didn't want anything messing it up. Darran had had to come, though. Tareena and he had agreed that he was to be with someone of their tower at all times - not so much to gaurantee his loyalty as to prevent him from getting killed by those who suspected he was still a darkfriend. Myiona was entangled, and Mura'shar was with her, and Tareena was busy, so Darren got the babysitting assignment. The swordsmith finally acknowledged their presence. Darren noticed something surprising - a lack of fear. Not total, but he was facing someone who had known he could channel for some time, and had prepared his nerves. Others, chance meetings, everyone was terrified of the black uniform. "Your request is unusual." Darren nodded. "The swords themselves?" "Yes. Asking for two is unusual in itself. You wanted a particular shape. What was it?" Darren had already submitted a careful sketch with intended measurements. He took the proferred pen and paper, and repeated the drawing as best he could. He outlined where he wanted the extended soft inner layer and where he didn't. He pointed out the unusual catchblades above and below the hilt he was asking for. The swordsmith watched him closely. "Yes... The shape you are asking for compounds the problem." "Do you think the swords cannot be made?" "They can, if it is worth the effort." "My style does not lend itself to more conventional blades." "It is not your style to which I refer. How did you come to need these swords?" "They were destroyed in combat." "Destroyed?" The asking of questions he had already answered was beginning to get on his nerves, but Darren realized that the weapnsmith was judging his reactions. {{It does serve a good purpose}} "I swung at him after disarming him, so he melted the blade in response." "So, he was unarmed." "He was not shielded from Saidin. He was armed." The weaponsmith clearly already knew that they could both channel, but feigned surprise. "Then why do you need a sword? Two, no less?" "I cannot channel to do anything other than interfere with other use of the Power." "That does not answer my question." The sudden switch of meanings caught Darren off-guard. After a moment, he realized that the man meant to ask why he fought. "I have a terrible gift, the use of saidin. Even limited, is power that we must use against the Dark One. Hence I am a soldier. And since I cannot use the power as a weapon, I need a weapon." "You fought long before you learned you could channel." Darren's heart fell. If this man was judging his reasons for becoming a soldier, Darren knew he would fall short. "Yes. I was foolish. The Aiel war was foolish, from beginning to end. One side too proud to submit to justice, the other side too proud to let it slide when it was clearly not worth the price." "When did you stop being a fool?" Darren was again surprised. {{Was it in the second to last battle of the war, or was it on the dragonmount itself? It couldn't be the Sheinarian influence of our visitors that time. Or was it more gradual? But... I have still raged when I did not hate. Even a few months ago. That poor madwoman... her tears haunt me still, but that couldn't be it}} "I don't know that I have." "Work on that., because I have decided to accept your request. Would you like some tea before going?" Darren accepted graciously, and an apprentice entered. Darren was about to speak on an unrelated topic, as was custom, but Darran spoke instead. "I am rather intrigued by that spear you have there." The weaponsmith glanced behind him. "Ah, the ashandarei. An ancient style of weapon. I don't really know how to make them, but I have had several requests. It seems that one of the friends of the Dragon uses one, so it is becoming fashionable in some circles. That was my second attempt. It is much too light at the end, out of balance. But, enough about..." "I should like to try it out some time." Darren looked sharply at Darran. The weaponsmith laughed. "Come, let the man relax for a minute. He has been sitting on nettles for half an hour." Darran, pleasantly surprised, asked, "May I?" the weaponsmith laughed again. "At this very moment?" I suppose you may." Darran leapt to his feet, and approached the spear. As he neared it, he chose the placement of his hands very carefully, reverently. he gently picked it up, examined it. Without stopping, he asked, "This is very good steel. Can it stand up to Thakan'dar forged?" "The borderlands stand on the ability of such weapons to block Thakan'dar forged steel." Darren pointed out, "It does seem rather thin for it." However, the weaponsmith assured him, "It is thick enough." Darran raised the spear to a vertical, and let it drop for just a moment before catching it again. He spun it along its axis, swung it gently back and forth. "The balance seems good to me." "You hold it much closer to the butt." Darran moved to where he had more room, and took several check-swings in various directions. Finished, he put it back in the corner. "It's very nice." The weaponsmith tok a sip of tea, then asked, "Would you like to buy it?" "Without an interview? I mean, how much?" The weaponsmith smiled. "I need an interview to assure my concentration when working. I want to know my swords will not be used thoughtlessly. If I do not know, my worry shows in the work. As you can see, that is complete, too late for any worries. And anyone whose first question is whether it can stand up to a myrdraal's sword clearly has some good use in mind. And I would like to ask you one question." His tone became quite serious. Darran froze, meeting the weaponsmith's stare. Darren was worried. {{If he asks only one question, it's going to be a zinger.}} After a few seconds, Darran intoned, "Ask." "What do you have worth living for?" Darren let out air as if he had been punched. {{He's going to answer revenge against the Dark One. Even against the Dark One, that motivation might not fly too well.}} After a few seconds without an answer, though, Darren stopped worrying about that and became curious as to what the answer would be. Darran smiled. "Thank you very much for asking that question." The weaponsmith nodded. "And?" "Everything that I can become. Once we've won Tarmon Gai'don, the taint might not be a problem anymore, so I can settle down, do everything I always fought to let everyone else do. And if the need for a guardian is still present, then I will see whether I want to do that then." The weaponsmith laughed. "Don't wait for Tarmon Gai'don. In the borderlands we've been waiting for millennia. It'll take more than a dragon to change that. You may buy the spear." Darran looked to Darren. "You don't happen to have enough to cover this too, do you?" Darren shook his head. "You're right, I can't spot you for that much." The weaponsmith pursed his lips for a moment. "Take it, and pay me when you can. It would never be put to use otherwise." Darran instantly did a perfect rendition of the courteous bow Darren had taught him. **** Okay, so that scene lasted a good bit longer than I originally intended. Here we go: **** Setting: A room in the Black tower, ad hoc arranged to be a court. Anyone may be present if you like to be. Immediately after Lisa's recent RP. The court, such as it was, was nothing like Darren had ever seen before. Darren actually suspected that there had never really been a case like this before at the Tower. Judgment was rendered swiftly and harshly in the Tower. {{Light be thanked I ended up in this storm team, where it isn't nearly as bad}}. But here, there was doubt. Even the accuser, Tareena, did not think that a punishment should be given without a trial. Darren looked to his immediate right, where Tareena sat, and put his hand on hers. She was nervous - of course she was! Myiona was her friend, no matter what had happened - and... as a result of what happened here, that friend could die. And if she did, Tareena would not recover for some time. She briefly acknowledged his gesture. His counterpart Darran, seated at Tareena's right, suddenly chuckled. From his expression, Darren could tell he wasn't really taking the situation lightly; still, he shushed him. {{It's disrespectful even if it's notruly levity}} Darran apologized, and explained. "In my old tower, there was no real justice at all. A much much worse system, but not nearly as agonizing." Darren shushed him again. Darran lowered his gaze. "Sorry, this really isn't my element. I'd rather..." Darren cut him off. "Be outside? Most of the camp would be glad to skin you alive. A real live dreadlord!" "Yes, there is that." He was suddenly very quiet. The silence was interrupted as Myiona arrived. Escorted of course by Mura'shar, and by several other Asha'man as well, she was managing a rather good rendition of Aes Sedai unflappability despite being too new to the shawl to be ageless. {{I wonder whether that is a wise bearing to have right now.}} Tareena and Myiona shared a look. Myiona was impossible to read; Tareena had mixed feelings. Darren could understandthem - if Myiona was indeed a old-blooded murderer, he would not be sorry to see her suffer the penalty. But if she was a cold-blooded killer he was an eggplant in disguise.
Luke
Darren, Darran.

 Setting: Dawn of the morning in which we returned (I figure we made it back at about 4:00 AM). The storm team is still near our Rhuidean, gathered around the portal stone. Darran sighed. "I'll miss Erin." Tareena's ears perked in surprise. "Erin? Who's that?" "My mount. I left it in the Seanchan fortress in that other... wait a moment. That's in this universe. Can we get her?" Darren was about to object, but realized that it would be fairly safe. "Sure. Last thing they knew, you were an ally, and they thought I was you. And I think I still have a few minutes before I keel over from exhaustion." "Good. Go tell someone so they won't think I've defected again or anything." Tareena said, "I'll take care of it. Don't get caught." Darran blinked, shocked and dismayed. "Aren't you coming? Want to see the old folks again?" Tareena looked at him disbelievingly. "Does the word marath'damane mean anything to you?" "Yeah. All darkfriends who can channel. Must be leashed." Tareena laughed darkly. "I wish we were so sane. No. All women who can channel are marath'damane. That's why I'[m here, not there." This raised some questions in Darran's mind, but "Oh. I guess you shouldn't come then." "I have some other things to take care of. Luthar's missing. Haven't seen him since this morning. Yesterday morning. Whatever." Darran remembered the lightfriend he killed yesterday. "Was he really tall with black hair and a small nose?" Darran realized he had rather recently been a darkfriend, even though it seemed so long ago already - his distance from his recent past left him a little empty, and wishing even more to find Erin. Tareena recalled Luthar's appearance, and replied "No." "Good." "What?" "Never mind. Darren?" Darran became rather nervous. Darren still wsa somewhat wary around him. Even though he had apologized for assuming the worst after Mura'shar returned, Darren wasn't taking any chances. {{Good thing, I suppose. I wouldn't want to be them if I were tricking them.}} "Ready. Light, I'm still wearing what I wore before." "So am I. Ok, when I Travel back, the gate will appear right here, so no one stand here." With that, Darran Travelled. They stepped through into the middle of the night. Darran wondered how it could be a different time in one place than another - he had always noticed it but never figured it out. But going to the stables took precedence. As they causlaly strolled towards the stables, Darran said, "I hope it's not too late to say I forgot something." "What?" "Your friend I killed last night. Should we try to recover his body?" "No." "What about the Kandori prisoner?" "Kandori, here?" "Well, he's gotta be somewhere." "I was thinking borderlands. Where is he held?" They arrived at the stables. "And why couldn't you have brought us closer?" "I didn't want to cut anyone in half. Ah, here you are, Erin." Darren looked at the grolm he was saddling up. "This is Erin?" "Beautiful, isn't she?" The grolm took a moment to lick Darran on the face with a tongue that could have been used as a scouring pad. "Um, if you say so. How should we bust the prisoner free?" "Go there and find out." "With a grolm?" "Just checking up on her. This way." They walked across the courtyard as calmly as possible. In the dim light, even the few sentries didn't see anything amiss with them. Darran led them up onto the wall, and then to a tower. At the door to the tower, they were finally stopped. A guard with a lantern on a pole held it up to Darran's face. Darran calmly said, "I'd like to speak with the prisoner again." "Now?" "It's important." "Who's the other?" Darren stepped forward into the lantern light and lied. "We're twins. Some of the time you have seen him, you have really seen me." The guard snorted. "Go on." As the door closed behind them, Darren whispered, "speak with the prisoner _again_?" "He was my prisoner to begin with. Remember my plot? To frame your black tower for collaborating with the Seanchan invasion and doing the work of the Dark One. So I leaked word of the made-up plot to the countries which are trying to decide whether to follow your Dragon or not. He was a spy sent to see if it checked out. They caught him. I convinced them to keep him alive so I could interrogate him. But he didn't want to answer any questions. Fine by me - eventually I planned on letting him jailbreak. He was no use to me captured or dead. I made him think I was dragging information directly from his mind. Scared him right good and gave him a proper impression of the tower being evil." Darran found the cell. The man in it was still in good condition, though asleep. Darran tapped him with air to wake him up. He startled, and came awake. In the dark, he peered at them. Darran made a small light, and the man recognized him immediately. "What is it this time?" "I'm here to free you." "Hey! You can't do that!" A guard shouted from down the hall. Clearly he didn't see the means Darran was creating the light or he probably would have been more circumspect. Darren charged. the guard. The guard pulled a sword, but before it was out of its sheath Darren had gotten there. A blow to the sword hand - broken; a blow to the head - unconscious. Darren knelt to grab the keys, but when he glanced back, he saw Darran had melted the lock and the Kandori was already out. Darran did not waste any further time before he short-range Travelled to the stables, and then long range to a random point in Kandor. Once the gateway had closed, the Kandori asked, "So what exactly is going on here?" Darran told him everything, from the beginning to the end. Both Darren and the Kandori listened without interruption. When Darran had caught up to the present, the Kandori spoke. "You did take a bit of a risk rescuing me. And the Tower is vindicated... at least of this." Darren sensed the remaining hostility. "And what else is there?" "You hold Aes Sedai against their will. The tower wishes no one knew, but we do." "They attacked us. We took them prisoner." "The Aes Sedai, the green ajah in particular, have been critical to the Borderlands remaining alive for centuries. Undermining them in any way is working to the advantage of the Dark One." Darran cut in, asking Darren, "You mean your tower and the Aes Sedai do not cooperate? Why then are there so many women?" "The Dragonsworn are those Aes Sedai who have gotten over their pride and resumed the fight against the Dark One. But there are many who will not. And the White Tower is an entirely separate entity from the Black Tower, one which has twice attacked us, not to mention constant stilling of men who could channel." The Kandori put in, "Which is a good thing." Darren nodded. "Up to now, yes. But Tarmon Gai'don is coming fast. We will be instrumental in winning it. And if we win it then break the world, isn't it better than losing it altogether?" The Kandori nodded. "The blight has been very quiet recently. Very quiet. We didn't beat them into submission, either. Did you know that there is a civil war going on here? Half of the borderlands agree with you. Half think the Dragon is already lunatic, or even a darkfriend, or at the very least power-hungry far beyond what is necessary or helpful. I came because I thought to prove that this abominable tower of yours was evil." He glanced at Darran. "Your presence is not helping that much. And even now I cannot give my conclusive recommendation to the crown. But I personally do owe you my life. If there is anything I can do for you within the bounds of my existing oaths..." Darren thought for a moment. "In fact, there is..." **** and that's how he got the interview so quick.
Luke
Darren, Darran

 Mura'shar's gaze drifted across the room. For the first time since he;'d joined the Black tower, the successful completion of a mission had not ended in a party. There was not a happy face to be seen. He squeezed Myiona's hand in reassurance that everything would be all right. He sensed a mixture of fear, anger, and a bit of shame as well. But her Aes Sedai training was put to good use, none of it touched her face. Nobody came back from that alternate universe unscathed, it seemed. The storm Tams faced death often enough on missions, but this time they saw the depths of evil they all had the potential of attaining. Mura'shar certainly had nightmares about that since leaving. The Light alone knew what Talia saw while facing her duplicate. Darren's, at least had come over to the Light. But Myiona is now on trial for something she did, not her duplicate. And it's all my fault he thought to himself. If he hadn't been stupid enough to get captured, maybe he would have been there to stop those Soldiers. Maybe he should have warned them more strongly. Of course, they deserved to die just on general stupidity, thinking they could attack Myiona like that He had barely spoken to Tareena since they got back to the Black Tower. He knew that justice had to be done, and he counted her as a friend, but between her and Myiona, he had to choose Myiona. And whatever happens, I'm by her side. He knew what the potential penalties were for murder, and if the Dragon himself showed up to do her any harm, he'd stand in his way. Just before the proceedings began, he leaned over and whispered in her ear "I love you, and I'll always be here for you"
Jake
marked Asha'man
 
 To Stevan, it appeared as if he had no choice. Myiona was high in command, and she fully deserved to be in that position. She was a vital asset in battles, and when back at the Tower she was an excellent teacher for the Novitiates and the Initiates. However, the same rules have to apply to everyone. How could he trust her anymore if she lashed out and killed two soldiers? And it was the breaking of the promise to Tareena that hurt him the most. Trust was important. And at the moment he felt that he could not trust Myiona. Therefore... The court was silent as he delivered his verdict. "After what Myiona has done, I doubt if any of us feel that we can trust her again. It seems clear to me that she can therefore no longer fulfill her role as 1st Dragonsworn. However, she will keep her rank as Marked Dragonsworn, and continue to serve in the Tower, for I cannot believe that she is a Darkfriend. It is not just the killing that I am angry about, for to me it appears that she must have been provoked in some way. It was the way she attempted to hide the truth." He could see tears welling in Myiona's eyes as she was dismissed of her post. It was hard for him too, and he could see the torment in Tareena's face. Mura'shar looked angry. No matter what the verdict, he could not please everybody. Wounds would have to be mended over time... He continued. "We have also lost many fine men and women in this last mission. Therefore, the Storm Teams Haza and Maelstrom will merge to form one..." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ------------------------------------------
Steve
<><

 Ariana chose to escape the chaos of the impending trial by excercising her horse. She didn't know Myiona particularly well, but something- part Aes Sedai pride and part intuition- didn't like the fact that a Tower member of high position was accused of lying. Which, for an Aes Sedai, meant being a Darkfriend... The Healer shook her head tiredly and refused to think about the consequences of such a trial right now. She was back from a long, hard, and tiring mission, and all she really wanted was to go enjoy the pleasant weather and excercise her rather-plump horse. After a while of wandering nowhere in particular, she dismounted stiffly and tethered Tai'dari, then folded down to sit on a patch of grass. A convenient leatherleaf made a nice backrest, and after a few minutes, Ariana closed her eyes. She'd only intended a short nap... When she woke to an insistent nudge from her curious horse, Ariana was startled- the sun was setting! Chagrined, she hurried to mount and went as fast as she dared in the failing light back toward the Tower. She wondered uneasily what the verdict would be, or even if the trial was finished yet. Never before, at least in her time here, had there been such an important legal procedure, so she didn't know how long it might take. As she rode into the outlying areas of the Tower, she noticed it was pretty much empty. Everyo ne must be at the trial. "Well, guess we might as well go find out the news- good or bad," she told her horse, who flipped an ear back at the sound of her voice, and snorted. The Healer shook her head. "Even my horse doesn't listen to me," she told the inattentive ears. "How in the Light am I ever going to get trainees to listen?" :::smiles::: sometimes I feel that way... Well, i sorta haven't been here for the trial, so I'll just let Ari skip it. (Whitewater rafting was very fun! And the water wasn't even too cold! a good thing, since Robin's friend got pushed in :) ) Anyway, i think this makes the fourth required RP for July. ::sighs w/ exaggerated relief:: I'm off to college on the fourteenth, so soon after that I'll have my new email address, I hope. Well, schuss!
~Erin/Ariana

 The Saldaean woman watched. She turned to watch as Stevan announced Myiona's sentence. (Talia)'s expression never changed; though her eyes danced with some unreadable emotion. The trial no longer interested her. Now, the sentence had been announced and she cared not what happened next. She turned from the congress of people and walked away.. with a small, almost unrecognizable skip to her step. She wanted to find Darran and Darren. Those two are who intrigue her the most.. They had made themselves scarce. (Talia) frowned in semi-anger at her failure to find them. She turned in her search and almost came face to face with..........
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
OOC: Someone? *G* please?
T
<><
 
 The hall was brimming with people anxious to see 'justice' meted out to the woman who served as the Tower's First Dragonsworn. Myiona. The First was accused of murder 'in cold blood.' Composed, Myiona sat, her face, to many, unreadable. The Domani woman faced her accusers with an unblinking eye. Many of her self-appointed judges strained like hounds at the leash, thirsty for blood. Myiona had shared a little of what had occurred, but La'rece had seen the two slain men in action herself and had no doubts as to their fate. Now Myiona stood accused as though she had murdered babes in swaddling. Not for the first time, La'rece wondered what was becoming of the Black Tower. "?then you must add the charge of Darkfriend to the list of accusations" Myiona was saying. Voices rose as the accused's last words faded. La'rece wasted no time. This had to be curtailed. Those who saw the Arafellan enter the hall quickly made way for her. Those who had not were moved aside by their more attentive fellows as La'rece Barata'gan made her procession to the front of the proceedings. For a procession it was. With two large men in full Arafellan battle armor, the Marked Dragonsworn and High Seat of House Barata'gan was resplendid in a silk satin gown of emerald green, matching stones about her neck and ears, a platinum ring gleaming on her right hand catching the light and causing not a few comments, a snake swallowing its own tail unmistakable, the sword and dragon pendants of an Asha'man displayed upon her breast accompanied by the pendants and bracelet of rank that named the woman wearing them as one who had achieved the rank of Dragonsworn of the Black Tower, emerald encrusted combs holding her hair back in rolls allowing the remaining hair to be caught up in the netting that hung down her back, its fine threads accented with bright green jewels. As she made her stately progress toward the front of the room, La'rece's eyes took in those who played the leading roles in the afternoon's drama. Her face an unreadable mask, La'rece first met Tareena's eye, next she swung her gaze to Stevan whose own face could have been chiseled from stone. Turning further she looked into Mura'shar's eyes and saw the storm raging behind them. *He'll die trying to save her if the penalty is death* the Arafellan thought with an internal sigh. Finally, she turned to Myiona who was the picture of Aes Sedai serenity ... unless of course you knew what to look for. *She's terrified and no blaming her for it* Crossing her right leg behind in such a way as to place her right knee just to the left and rear of her left knee, La'rece lowered herself to the ground in a courtsey befitting the Queen of Andor. Someone gasped as the Arafellan reached the bottom of the curtsy, her head and back as low as her supporting knee. "Peace be on you. My Lady First, I humbly offer my services as champion to meet your accusers, be they one or twenty, on a field of battle where I shall defend your good name with my life's blood. Let those who question your innocence face me in fair and open battle upon the field and let the Creator decide." Turning around La'rece faced Stevan who arched an eyebrow at the Arafellan. She sincerely hoped that it would not come to a fight. She had no desire to kill one of the Tower, much less more, but she could and would. There were few who could best her with a blade in a fair fight. She knew it and so did the others. Defiantly La'rece stood next to Myiona waiting to hear Stevan's response. The M'Hael chose to ignore her offer. Clearing his throat, Stevan spoke slowly and clearly. Instead of death, he stripped Myiona of her title as First but left her the dignity of her rank. In truth it was a boon of sorts. Myiona was technically not found guilty of any crime but rather deemed untrustworthy. *Hah! If push came to shove, who in this room is truly trustworthy?! You Stevan? You Tareena? None of us is entirely without falt. We've all killed in cold blood* La'rece thought cynically. Looking back at Myiona who was being comforted by Mura'shar, La'rece proceeded out of the hall. Once again the crowds parted before her. Nearing the doors, La'rece stopped, her path blocked by a young woman. Taria. The young woman's back was to La'rece as the Dragonsworn approached. Turning around, Taria almost ran into the Arafellan.

 (Talia) scanned the woman before her carefully. She reminded her of someone she rather despised, but she put on a fake expression of familiarity anyway. "Pity." She stated, nodding toward Myiona. "The Tower defeats the enemy and completes the mission under her leadership and then.. betray her. They act a lot like Darkfriends themselves." Her eyes met La'rece's, studying closely for any reaction to that statement.
~T
<>< ---whose muse is MIA

 La'rece met Taria's eye with a steady gaze. "The Tower defeats the enemy and completes the mission under her leadership and then.. betray her. They act a lot like Darkfriends themselves" Taria said. The Arafellan studied the young woman. What was Taria's intent? Who's side was she on? "Darkfriends?" La'rece did not think this was the case, though she had witnessed many forms of manipulation and attack by followers of the Dark One. "Perhaps, though I rather think this has more the feel of ..." La'rece caught sight of Tareena and Stevan speaking together and her eyes hardened. "You'll excuse me, I think I need to be elsewhere right now." Followed closely by the two armed men who accompanied her, La'rece swept from the room. Finally alone, La'rece sat on the stool outside the stable. The dappled shadows created by the swaying branches of the large oak tree danced over the ground. Hopefully there would be an end to the suspicion and accusations. She had not had an opportunity to speak with Myiona about the entire incident. La'rece thought about her exchange with the young woman, Taria. She did not know the woman well and suspected some reticence on Taria's part, yet maybe there was more going on than the surface issue of the alleged murders. Were there Darkfriends in the Tower ...
Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 Sunlight played upon the floor of the chamber room, illuminating and casting shadows at the same time. A strong shaft lit the floor directly in front of Tareena, drawing her eyes to it time and time again. It was easier to concentrate on the this, than on what was going on around her. She had heard the charges against Myiona read. Murder. Insubordination. It was inconceivable that they were spending this day in this way. The tower was successful on their mission, they were home and yet, there had been no rejoicing at life, no parties as was the norm. A strange pall had fallen over the tower, infiltrating every aspect, prominent in the frown lines and planes of worry on the faces of her friends. Or at least some of them were. It was hard to imagine the rift that had been formed. Many people sided with Myiona, without question. Many did not. Tension was high and it was going to take time and effort to unite everyone was more. The wait for the verdict was excruciating. Testimony had been heard from the relevant parties, there was no more that could be done. One of the biggest surprises of the proceedings had been the arrival of Lar'ece. Her speech in defense of Myiona was like a knife through Tareena's heart. Especially when the Arafellan had looked directly into Tareena's eyes, piercing her with their intent. Something inside of Tareena broke at the point, she could not have chosen words to describe it. For the first time, white hot anger coursed through her, mimicking but surpassing the anger she had felt in Rhuidean, when she had discovered Myiona had once again disobeyed orders. There must be discipline. No one is beyond that. Myiona broke a promise but more than that, she disobeyed a direct order. She deserves whatever sentence she gets. Whoever supports her on the basis that she had a right to do so, must realize that duty to the tower comes before all. I will see to that. With a hardened heart, Tareena listened to Stevan pronounce the verdict, angered that all that occurred was the stripping of her 1st Dragonsworn title. She was to remain a Marked dragonsworn but no longer in Tareena's eyes did she deserve it. She had betrayed her friend and her tower that she had sworn an oath to. Tareena rose to her feet, once again flanked on either side by her twin shadows. Moving through the crowd that flanked either side of the aisle, she hesitated by the group surrounding Myiona. For a fleeting moment, their eyes met. Naked hatred flowed from the Domani to Tareena in waves. For a moment, somewhere deep inside, Tareena wished it could be different. Pushing through her anger, she knew she still wanted things to be right between them. Then a whispered comment reached her ears, one she knew she was meant to hear. No one dared to laugh in her face, but the implication was there. The moment lost, she returned the stare with one of her own, weighing and measuring Myiona with new eyes. She may think she is strong but she has no clue. She was never a battle trained damane. She has never suffered torture at the hands of sadistic women day in and day out and survived. I am tougher than you are, dragonsworn, and I will prove it. Tareena turned and continued down the aisle, nodding her head in greetings. She schooled her face to neutrality, wanting to simply leave and go to her room in peace. Finally they were free and after what seemed like hours, standing at the doorway to her rooms. Turning, she thanked Darren and Darran for seeing her to her door but asked to be left alone. Once her door was closed, the mask of neutrality fell and the anger took its place. She moved to her desk, seating herself and drawing out writing utensils. There were letters to write, details to consider. She had a feeling that she was going to need to know who was aligned with her and soon.

 Standing at the window of her study, La'rece Barata'gan ran through the
scenarios again and again.  What had happened?  What was driving this
conflict within the Tower?  If it was not Dark Friends, the Dark One
could hardly ask for a more effective sabotage of the Black Tower.  In the
back of her mind lingered the thought of what would happen if the
Dragon Reborn or Mazrim Taim were made aware of a major rift within the
Tower.  She had seen him deal with such conflicts before, their solutions
tending to encompass the whole, not bothering to single out individuals.
La'rece understood in part Tareena's obsession with following the laws
set forth to govern the Tower.  Yet, this was not calculated cold
blooded murder.  Those men had ?
Quickly making up her mind, La'rece opened a gateway.  It would not
help her if anyone saw where she went at this juncture.

****
A soft rap at her door drew Tareena's attention away from the letter
before her.  Wondering who might be approaching her after the previous
day's events, the Dragonsworn glided to the door to her chamber.  Seizing
Saidar in the event it was needed, Tareena opened the door.

Standing before her was an old woman dressed in the same fashion as the
rest of the Tower cooks and maids.  What on earth did the woman want?
"Yes?" Tareena asked.

"I have a message for you, mi'lady.  May I come in?" The old crone's
eyes bore into the Seanchan and she found herself allowing the woman to
enter her chambers.  Turning her back on the old woman, Tareena asked
her guest if she would care for tea.

"Thank you, please."

Tareena slowly turned around.  The old crone was gone.  Now, standing
in her room was La'rece Barata'gan.  "Why the disguise, La'rece?  And if
you felt the need to come disguised, why suddenly drop the illusion?"

La'rece smiled and sat.  "Black.  No cream, no sugar.  Thank you."

Tareena studied the Arafellan for a moment before going back to
preparing the tea.  "Again, why the disguise, La'rece?"

"At this juncture I think it best not to be seen speaking with you.
Your bit of a witch hunt has caused substantial damage to both the morale
and the fabric of the Tower ?

The Seanchan whirled around.  "Myiona broke the laws of the Tow?

"Did she?" the other woman replied calmly.  "Were you there, Tareena?
No?"

"Neither were you, La'rece!" Tareena replied heatedly.

"No.  I was not.  However, I had first hand experience with the two
louts she is accused of killing in cold blood.  It's a wonder they
survived any given day the way they conducted themselves and Stevan allowing
it.  The wonder of it is that Aramis didn't kill long before they ever
had a chance to attack Myiona a second time."

"She was told to ignore them and that they would be dealt with by the
Tower.  Instead she chose to carry out her own justice!"  Tareena could
feel her face flushing with the rage she felt.  "There are rules.
There must be order!"

"They attacked her, Tareena" the Arafellan stated calmly.

"She should have sought help from an Asha'man" came the Seanchan's cold
reply.

"Ah.  And which Asha'man would that have been considering such things
as situation and timing?"

"What Myiona did was wrong.  It should not go unpunished."

"Well, as for that, Myiona has been stripped of her office and, no
small thanks to you, publicly humiliated."

The Seanchan glared at the seated woman.  "She was let off the hook!
Losing her title of First?!  That is a joke!  A murderer walks free,
La'rece!"

Calmly sipping her tea, La'rece looked up at the young woman standing
before her.  "You've had some experience with people terrorizing you.
Tell me, Tareena, had you had the opportunity when being attacked or
abused by your Seanchan keepers to harm or kill them and thus end your
pain, would you?"

Tareena stood looking at La'rece.  The Arafellan's eyes hardened and
her voice was quick and sharp, "Speak."
 
 

Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 Mentally, Tareena took a deep breath to calm herself. How she handled the Arafellan now, would most certainly dictate how events would unfold in the future. Tareena had no doubt that La'rece was working to try to mend the rift in the tower, she knew enough of her to know where her loyalties lay. However, she had publicly came out on the side of Myiona, before the whole tower at the trial and now she was privately challenging Tareena. Tareena deliberately moved towards her chair, arranging her skirts around her, not asking La'rece to do the same. Looking straight into her eyes, each word striving to drive home its own message, she spoke. "You forget yourself La'rece. Do not presume to come into my rooms and try to intimidate me with your eyes, your words and your sword. You speak of the Seanchan as if to use this as an example, try to shame me into bending to your way of thinking. You know nothing of which you speak. Would I kill my Sul'dame if given the chance? Do I seek revenge on the Seanchan? Maybe the person you should be speaking to is Aramis. Ask him my feelings towards revenge. You asked if I was there, when it happened, yes I was. I was there when Myiona broke her promise to me. I gave her the freedom to take care of things. I was there when she deliberately disobeyed orders, twice. I was there. The charges of murder were dropped against Myiona. She has publicly stated she was defending me. An Aes Sedai who has sworn on the oath rod cannot lie, or so I am told. Therefore, Myiona was stripped of her title as 1st Dragonsworn for her failure to obey orders. That was Stevan's decision. Are you now questioning his decisions as well?" Tareena reached over and slowly brought the rim of her coffee to her mouth, carefully watching for the dragonsworn's reaction. Tareena did not wish in any matter to alienate her, but she could not allow her to believe she has the upper hand. Watching the rage play across her face, Tareena wasn't quite sure she had managed either objective.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ---------------------------------------
OOC: I know some of this storyline may be confusing. We had originally planned to play out the trial scene a lot longer, bringing out the full charges against Myiona and why she was being charged. The trial suffered a premature death, however, and we are trying to fill in any gaps that may have occurred because of this. Feel free to join in the RPing at any time, everyone is welcome. The basic intent of the storyline is to create some tension within the tower, spice things up a bit before our next mission. Keep in mind, however, that it is considered polite to consult a person before you write their character into any major dialogue or scene so that their character is not put in a position where they choose not to be. Keep up the good work everyone. Lauren, nice job on the RP, you really put the heat on Tareena ::grins:: Also, ladies, we are in need of a Mistress of Novices as it is going to be difficult for me to hold both positions of Guardian and Mon for very long. Vicky has asked to step down due to real life responsibilities (understandable) and I am asking for volunteers. The duties are minimal but necessary :) Let me know!
Lisa

 Darren was extremely disappointed. He had hoped the trial would be able
to
illuminate the situation, convince Tareena that Myiona was innocent.
Dropping of charges was the best way for a trial to end. But it had
been
brief. And it had not been illuminating on most scores.
Still, he saw too many people too angry at Tareena. {And for that she
deserves my support.}
So, when she told him to go away (she didn't really put it that
bluntly),
he didn't take it too well.
Darran fortunately prevented him from getting too mired in se. "Let's
go to
the practice yards and distract ourselves. We can't help, but we could
hurt. So let's get out of the way."
Darren roused himself enough to say "No, I think we should drop by
Myiona's
quarters."
Before they could do either, though, an Asha'man walked up to them and
stopped. Though he did it only briefly, his suspicious look over Darran
was
unmistakable. "Asha'man."
Darren nodded.
"I would like to offer my condolences."
Darren's eyebrow twitched. "She got off much lighter than she could
have."
The other asha'man nodded. "yeha, but the crazy part is, she had rank
to
begin with. We should have known that an Aes..." he noticed Darren's
expression.
After a few moments to steady himself, Darren said, "If you have a wish
for
justice, punishing Myiona further without much further investigation is
idiocy. If you have a vendetta against Aes Sedai, you will find that
not
all Asha'man think as you do."
"Near enough. They hate us."
"Fear us. Think to three years ago. You would have been terrified then
too."
"I didn't go around hunting men down and cutting their souls off."
"If you had had the power, and you had seen the work of a false dragon
on
the rampage."
The Asha'man flushed. "You dare insult the M'hael!"
"I can accept his leadership under the dragon, and the same for Logain.
But
the Aes Sedai were quite right to capture both of them. They raised
armies
and caused aimless destruction. Now, with a purpose, and politically
motivated restraint on their actions, they are be forces for good."
"The Aes Sedai _severed_ Logain, no doubt beat him like they beat the
Lord
Dragon. Don't forget Dumai's Wells."
Darren remembered Dumai's Wells very clearly. They had put him in
front,
since he was unable to channel offensively. After the battle, he looked
over the lists. Of the thirty or so gates they had opened, he was one
of
two soldiers first out of a gate to survive. If he had had any rank at
the
time, he would have ordered the Asha'man to stand back and clear space
with
walls of Air BEFORE going through the gates. But he had just arrived,
was
hardly aware of his powers, and was lost enough to such an extent that
he
actually got put in front. Those had been long, long months, until he
discovered that his limtation to interference included the rare Talent
for
it, and people began taking him half-seriously again, in the battle
with
the Sharans. [[OOC: this was in an RP, my first, for the many of you
who
would not otherwise know what I was talking about]]
"Dumai's Wells was a tragedy for everyone concerned. It was an example
of
bad leadership on every side."
"It's not the bloody leadership I'm talking about!  Did you hear what
the
Dragon looked like when they got him out of that box they kept him in?"
"I saw. But did you see what Lanenda the Yellow who dared actually
defend
herself before we could capture her, looked like after our boys
finished
with her? She looked like the tower had concentrated a Rolling Rings of
Earth and Fire on her. I don't even want to think of how she got that
way.
She died four agonizing days later despite the best efforts of every
healer
we permitted to attempt to help her. The Aes Sedai don't have a
monopoly on
cruelty, stupidity, or prejudice."
"Whose side are you on?"
"What are the sides? Light and Dark, or men and women? Red and black?
Snakes and foxes? Shirts and skins? Think before you name someone
'enemy'.
Myiona didn't come here as a raider, nor did we go out and capture her.
She
left in the split and came here of her own will."
"Impossible. There were no women here for long after the split."
"We aren't terribly near Tar Valon, and she didn't know how to Travel
at
the time. She didn't know where we were. She lost her horse. How long
would
it take to walk here from there if one was sort of meandering?"
"Transit times. You're changing the subject!"
"You don't have a point, so there was no subject!"
Darran put in, "He did have a point. It was wrong, but it existed."
The Asha'man's lip curled. "I don't need your help.... whatever you
are."
"Soldier."
"So you say." the Asha'man tromped off.
Darran didn't wait until he was entirely out of earshot. "Charming
fellow,
isn't he?"
"You know, the practice yards sound like a good idea."
"Aren't you going to get your weapons?"
"I think I'm going to need some practice in deflecting simultaneous
surprise attacks from highly skilled Asha'man before a few days are
up."
"Crud, did I jump out of the frying pan and into the fire? Maybe I
should
grab Erin and head back to my world. Hey! Where are you going?"
"To get Mura'shar and as many of the rest of the Asha'man of the team
as I
can. And... to see Myiona if I can."
"Tareena will be livid."
"Tareena grew up in Seanchan. They don't really know the Aes Sedai. I
think
she hasn't caught on to how powerful the three oaths are yet. She could
have just asked some direct questions, and Myiona would have answered
them,
and none of this mess would have happened."
"What oaths?"
"Oy, things are different in your world, aren't they?"
 

Luke
Darren/Darran who will be renamed Arran as soon as I can come up with a
good reason for them to do so.

 Mura'shar was fuming when the verdict was handed down. Disobeying orders? What was she supposed to do? Let Mera'shar kill her and La'rece? Or worse, let him turn her into one of his "pets"? By the looks of some of the others, he agreed wit him. But far too many seemed upset that the punishment was too light. He took Myiona's hand in his own and gave it a reassuring squeeze. He could feel her sense of betrayal and loss. He didn't know how she kept her faced so well schooled. Others were not so well concealed. Tareena looked like he could punch a hole in a stone wall with her glare. La'rece and Talia were whispering conspiratorially in a corner. He had to get out of here. And Myiona too. He led her out into the sunlight. It was near sunset and he had barely eaten all day. He didn't think Myiona had either. He began steering his bondmate towards his quarters. "Come on. You need some privacy. I have some food in my quarters. Have supper with me tonight." Myiona followed wordlessly. Her emotions were still raging about. Anger. Shame. Fury. Most of it was aimed a Tareena, it seemed. It spiked whenever she was in sight. Mura'shar wanted to hate Tareena too. What she has done was far beyond mere justice. If he didn't know better, it was almost personal. We met under less than auspicious circumstances, but I thought we were long past that. We are friends, or were once. And I thought she and Myiona were too. Not for the first time, he wished he had been around when those Soldiers attacked, instead of being held prisoner by his evil double. They reached his quarters. When he opened the door, several small packs were revealed to be piled in a corner. Mura'shar selected one off the top and pulled o food and a small bottle of wine. He filled two cups and began making sandwiches "I hope you don't mind" Mura'shar apologized for the sparse dinner "But anything fancier would probably tax both our resources at the moment. Myiona wasn't paying much attention. She was staring at the bundles. There were two bedrolls, some clothes. Small bags of coin. Weapons. "Mura'shar, what is all this?" she asked. He thought she already knew, but spoke truthfully. "Well, when I saw how some people were being, ah, less than rational, about this whole trial, I couldn't be sure how Stevan would decide. If you were to be punished, and if that punishment was too...extreme" If you were to be executed or stilled. "I decided that I should have some supplies ready if the two of us had to depart in a hurry" Mura'shar finished making a sandwich and put it on a plate in front of Myiona. Instead of taking it, she took the wine and drained the entire cup "You mean to say" she said in a half whisper "that you were willing to get yourself killed, to throw your life away in some foolish heroics to protect ME?" Her voice rose with each word, finally taking on life that had remained dormant since her last defiant speech to Tareena. "Of course" Mura'shar replied as he refilled her cup "I'd do it in a heartbeat. I don't like standing by while you're disgraced before the Black Tower. But I will not stand by and let you get killed over some trumped up charges" He kept his voice steady, but put down the bottle before his shaking hands became obvious. He was willing to die for Myiona. To kill. But to go against the Black, Tower, his friends, was an uncomfortable prospect or him. He was glad it hadn't come to that. Myiona walked up to Mura'shar "I don't know whether to kiss you, or smack some sense into you" she actually smiled when she said it. A small one, but it was there. Mura'shar raised his cup in a mock toast "I'm glad yo approve" The tension had finally cracked, a little.
Jake
Marked Asha'man

 The Wheel turns and ages pass.. but Good and Evil remain adverse to each other and contest throughout each turning of the Wheel.. each striving to better the other.. to win. The Creator and his t'averen.. the Dark One and his Chosen.. With each turning of the Wheel, the names of those who follow each change, but the struggle eternally remains. Such as is happening with the Black Tower currently, even as this chronicle is written. Or.. as (Talia) will make it seem. With the turmoil caused by Myiona's trial and sentencing, (Talia)'s mysterious actions will most likely go unnoticed. Rumors spread of how there are those who wish to make Myiona pay more penance than she received. Rumors also say there are those who wish to have Myiona's title as First Dragonsworn returned to her. And who is responsible for such rumors? Only (Talia) knows. Rumors of Darkfriends in the Tower spread like wild fire. Tensions have coursed through the Tower thicker than even a knife could cut. The time could not be more right to make a move. And, so, (Talia) continues her underhanded work without anyone to notice. Or does she? A light knock announced the Saldaean's presence to Mura'shar and Myiona. She had seen them scurry from the trial straight here. And here.. is where she will make her next move.
~T
<><

 Myiona sighed again and stared off into space. She had nibbled on a piece of bread and cheese, but most of it still lay untouched. No matter what she did in the next few days some would see nothing but guilt in her actions. "There is nothing else to do," she said finally, "everyone will be better off if I just go away. Maybe, after things die down a little, I can come back and be a part of the tower again." Mura'shar looked at her like she was crazy. "You can't leave," he said. "For one thing, that would make you look more guilty. They would assume your own guilt, or fear of Tareena, was what drove you away." "I am not afraid of that Seanchan," the Domani said firmly. "She should have never been allowed to join the tower. She is and always will be nothing but a Seanchan." "I need you here with me," Mura'shar said softly as he placed his hand over hers. "I do not even want to think about what it would be like for me without you here." The Domani smiled and put her other hand on top of his for a moment. "It is a hopeless situation," she said. "I cannot stay and I cannot leave. What am I supposed to do? There is no way I can work with her anymore, and she will be looking for ways to discredit me further. She might even try to take justice into her own hands, like she thinks I did. I put nothing past her." "Trolloc guts," Myiona muttered. "I guess I should have let them kill Tareena and run for help. I wish I had, with all the trouble she has caused for me. I think she must hate me for something, and, now, the feeling is mutual. If I had it to do over again, the results would be different, I can tell you that." "You don't mean that," Mura'shar said trying to calm her. "You are just upset now, Myiona. Later you will be sorry you said these things, even to me." Her eyes were hard, almost like the other Myiona, when she replied, "I do mean it. She is my enemy as much as any darkfriend. Nothing can change how I feel, but I understand that you must still work with her. Perhaps, it would be better if you stayed away from me. I do not want the others to start looking at you the way they are looking at me."
Vicky
aka Myiona the disgraced one

 La'rece Barata'gan listened as Tareena De'Haviland returned her salvo.
An interesting woman.  La'rece had always thought so.  It was
fascinating ?the young woman before here represented the combined elements and
experiences of such dramatically different cultures: Seanchan, the
Black Tower, and, whether she realized it or not, no small amount of Aes
Sedai.  It never failed to impress itself upon the Arafellan how similar
the Black Tower was in form and function to Tar Valon with its
policies, rules, strictures, the politics and players poised to defend against
what was right and what was wrong, as though such arguments were truly
black and white.  La'rece herself had stood firm in defense of one
cause or position in just such debates.  However, here was more than the
success or failure of one Ajah's or faction's agenda.  Here lay the seeds
of civil war, of revolution in the Tower.

La'rece felt Ivan's presence and nearly wept with the power of emotion
she felt.  Outwardly, the Arafellan gave no indication of her inner
struggle.  Tareena had nailed her squarely by pointing out that La'rece
held no firsthand knowledge of the Seanchan.  It was true enough.  Yet,
given enough evidence, one did not have to live amongst a people to
grasp an understanding of their ?ways of life or thought.   However,
La'rece conceded to herself that there might be much assumed in her
perception of Tareena's motivation and experience.

With a sigh, the Arafellan pulled a ring off of her right hand and
handed it to Tareena.  Leaning forward, her forearms resting upon her lap
as she looked intently at the woman seated across from her, La'rece
asked in a soft voice, "How much do you know about ?Aes Sedai, Tareena?"

Glancing at the ring she held, the serpent biting its tail beautifully
rendered in the precious metal, the ring of an Aes Sedai, Tareena's
expression became one of shrewd examination, the question apparent in her
eyes, *What is she after? What is the point of this question?*
 

Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 "The only way that could be possible, in my opinion, is if I had sworn new oaths to the Dark One. You must add the charge of being a darkfriend to the list." Myiona sat down, refusing to speak any more. Tareena looked down on her sadly as Stevan spoke. "Myiona, As First Dragonsworn, you have been placed in a position of great trust and responsibility. You now stand accused of betraying that trust. Simply saying "I am not a Darkfriend' is not enough to excuse disobeying a direct order. Even assuming the deaths of those Soldiers proves justified. Have you anything to say about that?" Myiona refused to speak. Mura'shar rose instead. His eyes were full of repressed energy, like he was ready to start a fight at any moment "Stevan, Tsorvan'm'hael. I know I'm not what one would call the most objective of witnesses, nor was I present when these events happened, but I would like to speak on Myiona's character. I have fought by her side since I was a Soldier. At the Jangai Pass, at Mayene, Ebou Dar, The Land of the Madmen, and now this Portal Stone World, we have traveled together, and I swear under the Light and my hope of salvation and rebirth, I swear that she has always lived by the Three Oaths. She has never spoken a lie to me, or around me, even when one would be preferable to the truth. She never attacked anyone with the One Power, save in self defense, or against shadowspawn, or in defense of me. There is no doubt in my mind that she serves the Light, and she acted in self-defense" Several Dragonsworn who used to be Aes Sedai, as well as others who had contact with the White Tower in the past, nodded slowly, though a few reluctantly. Others still looked doubtful. Tareena cleared her throat. "She may have defended herself when they attacked, Mura'shar, but it remains that she had information that they were planning some sort of revenge. I know this because I TOLD her myself. And told her to tell you as well" Tareena could not contain her anger at that. Mura'shar looked at Myiona "Is this true?" he asked her quietly. She paused a moment, and nodded. Mura'shar blanched for a moment, a then turned back to the judges "It changes nothing. Myiona made an error in judgment. She must have thought the Soldiers were not a threat to her. She was wrong. Anyone could have made that error in judgment. I myself would have cautioned her t be careful. But it makes no difference that she could not have attacked them with the One Power unless she feared for her life!" One of the other judges interrupted. "we can concede that there is doubt that Myiona killed those Soldiers 'in cold blood' and that she was, in fact defending herself. Though there is a whiff of doubt concerning that that was the case. But that is not the only charge you face, Myiona. Only the most serious of them. "You have also disobeyed a direct order form the Guardian. Whatever the reason, whatever the excuses or technicalities, there is no doubt that you were to remain in your tent. Duty to the Tower comes before all. You as First Dragonsworn, should know that" Mura'shar turned to face the new attacker "The First Dragonsworn had just learned that an impostor had infiltrated the camp, threatened La'rece, may have attacked Stevan, and was currently bonded to her. I must say that I would have reacted the same way, as well as anyone not so consumed by the taint that he has any sense of self preservation left" "But her leaving left the camp almost totally undefended when the Others made their move. If they had attacked our camp with no clear leader around..." "It would have made no difference anyway" Mura'shar interrupted "The Black Tower struck first and thanks to Myiona being close by, I was rescued before being recaptured, and possibly turned to the Shadow, by my own double. "We can argue until Tarmon Gaidon about what might have been" Tareena replied. There was more than a trace of annoyance in her voice. "But the fact remains that she did not do as she was commanded. What may or may not have happened is beside the point. You both are extememly lucky that it turned out in your favor. Myiona, you could have just as easily informed Stevan or myself about what your suspicions were and let it be handled in that matter. Instead, you took matters into your own hands, once more. You're attempt to protect your bondmate is commendable, Mura'shar, but she must speak for herself eventually. Myiona, did I or did I not specifically order you to remain in your tent, not to touch the One Power, and not to speak to anyone?" Myiona said nothing. But after a long pause, she nodded. Several observers grinned unpleasantly. At that point, someone strode forward to address the hall. La'rece strode forward and bowed formally and deeply before the court. "Peace be on you," she greeted Myiona "My Lady First, I humbly offer my services as champion to meet your accusers, be they one or twenty, on a field of battle where I shall defend your good name with my life's blood. Let those who question your innocence face me in fair and open battle upon the field and let the Creator decide." The offer surprised everyone in the hall. Some pleasantly, others not. Tareena looked absolutely livid at the temerity of the blademaster. Stevan just looked tired. Mura'shar looked like he wished he had thought of that himself. As if the challenge had closed debate, Stevan cleared his throat and spoke "After what Myiona has done, I doubt if any of us feel that we can trust her again. It seems clear to me that she can therefore no longer fulfill her role as 1st Dragonsworn. However, she will keep her rank as Marked Dragonsworn, and continue to serve in the Tower, for I cannot believe that she is a Darkfriend. It is not just the killing that I am angry about, for to me it appears that she must have been provoked in some way. It was the way she attempted to hide the truth." Tears welled up in Myiona's eyes as he made his ruling. Rumbles of discontent rose among the audience. Many who heard the evidence decided Tareena was right, and Myiona must be punished for her deeds. Stevan's ruling was little more than a slap on the wrist to them. Others thought Myiona was totally justified in what she did. The ruling, to them was a slap in the face rather than the wrist. Stevan continued speaking, talking of merging Storm teams, but few listened. They had heard what they came to hear. And few were happy about it.
Jake
marked Asha'man
 
 "I do mean it. She is my enemy as much as any darkfriend. Nothing can change how I feel, but I understand that you must still work with her. Perhaps, it would be better if you stayed away from me. I do not want the others to start looking at you the way they are looking at me." The venom in Myiona's voice startled Mura'har. She has said things like that before, even meant them at the time, Light, she's said things like that to him. But sthe always forgave in the end. Well, usually, anyway. "You don't really mean that, Myoina. you're tired and upset. I'm pretty upset too. But I won't give up on you because of this. I believe in you, even if I do give you a hard time about some things" He was about to go on when there was a knock on the door. Opening it, he saw Talia. She seemed distracted by something when he answered "Talia? What is it? And can it wait? I'm really not in the mood for visitors right now." There's trouble, Mura'har" Talia's voice was clipped and businesslike. "I've heard something's. Rumors. I think Myiona's in danger. And maybe you as well" Alarm bells went off in Mura'shar's head. Could the Black Tower be splintering already? Opening the door a little wider, he let Talia in. "Let's talk inside. Myiona's here right now, and she'll need to hear this too if she's in danger, as you say'
Jake
clueless marked Asha'man
 
 Talia) nodded firmly, "Yes, of course, Myiona should hear this, too," the Saldaean affirmed as if it were ludicrous to imply otherwise. The woman stepped into the enclosure, casting a wary eye about as she did so. Then she looked from Mura'shar to Myiona. "There's talk of Darkfriends in the Tower." Ignoring their reactions, she went on, "I would not usually put much stock into rumors.. However, words on so many lips must have some basis in reality. There are those in this very Tower who would seek your demise, Myiona. Not only on your repute and status, but also on your very life. They are angered that you received so little punishment in the trial.. and I believe they will stop at nothing until their sense of justice has been fulfilled." Turning to give Mura'shar a direct look into his eyes, she continued, "And you are guilty not only in association.. but they believe you had a hand in Myiona's light punishment... a direct and very Dark hand if you know what I mean."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A letter where Tareena would find it, warded with weaves sensitive only to her reads: Darkfriends are in the Tower. Do you not find it odd that a killer received little more than a demotion for her actions? It is not coincidence. I have seen and heard evidence that there is Darkness amidst us. For fear of discovery, I leave this letter anonymous. But know this.. trust no one. Signed: A Friend
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~T
<><

 "I believe in you," Mura'shar said, "even if I do give you a hard time about some things." A knock sounded and he opened it, talking quietly for a few minutes with the person outside before opening the door and letting them in. Myiona was surprised to see Talia there. "There's talk of Darkfriends in the Tower. I would not usually put much stock into rumors.. However, words on so many lips must have some basis in reality. There are those in this very Tower who would seek your demise, Myiona. Not only on your repute and status, but also on your very life. They are angered that you received so little punishment in the trial.. and I believe they will stop at nothing until their sense of justice has been fulfilled." Talia turned to look at Mura'shar and added, "And you are guilty not only in association.. but they believe you had a hand in Myiona's light punishment... a direct and very Dark hand if you know what I mean." "Thank you, Talia," Myiona said calmly, "for bringing this to our attention. It would be best if you did not tell anyone else of this. The tower is threatened enough right now by the actions of the guardian." She walked over to look out a window, waiting for Talia to leave. Finally, she turned around to see the woman still standing there. "Is there anything else?" Myiona asked sharply. Talia raised an eyebrow at the question and looked at Mura'shar. He shook his head and walked over to open the door for the Dragonsworn. After the other woman was gone, Myiona finally relaxed. "I am going back to my room," she said. "I think it is best if I do not spend too much time with you right now. If you argue with me, I will open a gateway to Arad Doman and go back home to live with my family. You are the only reason I stay in this place, but if my presence here hurts you . . ." She stepped closer and kissed Mura'shar's cheek lightly. "No matter what else they say about me, or whatever else happens," she said in a choked voice, "do not doubt how much I love you." Myiona turned and slipped out of the room quickly. Myiona walked quickly through the halls keeping her head down, hoping those who had aught against her would think it was shame. In reality, her eyes were glittering with rage. She heard the whispers of those she passed, some accusatory and others sympathetic. The Domani ignored them all and continued on her way until she bumped into someone.
Vicky
aka Myiona the shamed one

 Mura'shar didn't like letting Myiona leave in her state, but he realized that there was only so much he could do to help her. She would have to work out matters in her head on her own. Instead he went about clean ing up after their dinner. Neither of them had much of an appetite. He also thought of Talia's warning. Darkfriends in the Black Tower? It was certainly likely. That Dedicated Sneed went over to that other Black Tower. If there were any more, the would certainly pick now to strike. If only those Soldiers had known what sort of trouble they were getting into, none of f this would have happened. That brought to mind an idea hew had been toying with for some time. Maybe now was the time to try it out. Unfortunately, there was only one person he could go to now for it to be implemented... A few minutes later, he was outside Tareena's door. He was nervous, but no longer really angry. He couldn't bring himself to hate Tareena for what happened. She was probably one of his closest friends in the Black Tower. Instead he felt a great deal of sadness for what had to take place in that courtroom. He knew her reasons, Light, she argued with him throughout the trial! He understood her position, but couldn't agree, no matter how logical her arguments. He screwed up his courage and knocked on the door. Tareena? It's Mura'shar, I need to talk to you." The door opened slightly, and he saw Tareena, her faced turning suspicious when she saw it was indeed him "Yes, Mura'shar? If you're here to plead for Myiona gain, I'll tell you once more..," "It's not about Myiona. Not directly, at least. May I come in?" Tareena hesitated a moment, then opened the door for him to step in He saw her slip a paper she had been she was reading into a pocket "I'm not here to convince you that you were wrong" Mura'shar stated again "I made my case already, and arguing it again won't convince you any more than you could convince me. Nor can I turn back the Wheel and stop those Soldiers form doing what they did, or Myiona from doing what she did. I'm here instead to try and make sure that those things don't happen again later" "And how do we do that?" Tareena asked, sitting in a chair and indicating Mura'shar should do the same. "I think we should hold classes with both Asha'man and Dragonsworn, or more accurately, Soldier and Novitiates" he stated simply. He stopped Tareena before she could interrupt. "I know that men can't teach omen to channel any more than women can teach men. But there are things they can teach each other. Like linking. We can tell them what to expect when and if they choose to bond. Not all bondings are done under ideal circumstances, as you well know. " Tareena nodded, remembering her own bonding experience. "They can be shown the benefits of supporting each other in combat. When they go on missions, they have to be able to trust each other. They have to see them as human beings. Right now, there's a growing element that sees all Dragonsworn as Aes Sedai. Red Sisters, even, when in this Storm Team, Aes Sedai Dragonsworn are actually a minority, and there are no Reds here" As far as his memory could recall, at any rate "...and Dragonworn are starting to see Asha'man as half-crazed brigands, thanks to those Soldiers" there was no need to elaborate on which Soldiers he was referring to. If they can be brought together while they're still in training, and see just how valuable an ally they'll; have in each other, perhaps we can stop any further clashes before they start" Mura'shar shrugged "It may not work. Perhaps it will actually hurt maters, bringing them together like this while emotions are still high. But I think it's worth a try. I'd like your permission, Tareena, to start one class like this, with a Dragonsworn to help with the women. Tareena spoke for the first time since Mura'shar started his pitch "I think I know which Dragonsworn you'd like to have co-instructing this class" she saw right through him on that one. Mura'shar shrugged "I'll abide by your decision on this matter. But a Dragonsworn would be needed. I can do nothing with saidar, after all" Mura'shar sat back and waited while Tareena thought over his proposal.
Jake
Marked Asha'man

 Alcinia was sneaking through the hallways, listening at doors and around corners trying to gauge the level of mistrust in the tower. It did not sound good. The only time she had ever seen things this bad was when a former leader of the criminal element in Mayene had made some major blunders. He had been found floating in a keg of his own ale. She saw Myiona heading toward her, not watching where she was going. Alcinia put her hands up and caught the other woman's shoulders. "You shouldn't be out wandering the halls alone," the thief warned. "Too many people here think Stevan did not deal with you severely enough. Most of those, by the way, are Asha'men. A few of the non Aes Sedai Dragonsworn have joined them as well." Alcinia led Myiona off into a dark corner. "I will keep my eyes and ears open," she said, "and let you know whatever I find out. You have been good to me more times than I can repay. I owe you that much."

 Glancing at the ring she held, the serpent biting its tail beautifully rendered in the precious metal, the ring of an Aes Sedai, Tareena's expression became one of shrewd examination, the question apparent in her eyes, *What is she after? What is the point of this question?* Tareena answered " I know very little, to be honest. Some I have learned from the women hear, mostly Myiona, a little from the men. Is there something you feel as though I need to know Lar'ece?" The Arafellan looked intently into Tareena's eyes, almost seeming to will her to hear the words she was about to speak. Before she could begin, loud voices began to filter into the room from outside, almost making it impossible to hear. Both Dragonsworn moved almost in tangent to the window which overlooked part of the training field. A large crowd had gathered and whatever was causing the disturbance did not look good. Tareena gathered herself mentally to go outside to deal with the situation when she felt a hand on her arm. Surprise clearly written in her features, She looked up at Lar'ece. "It's been a long day and tensions are high. Let me handle it and if I need you, I will send for you." It would have been easy to take offense to the offer, but reason and sense can sometimes win over irrationality. Realizing that the suggestion was a good one, though not liking it, Tareena nodded and watched as Lar'ece glided across the room and out the door. Watching and wondering from the window, Tareena waited with impatience for the Dragonsworn to arrive down below. Her vigil by the window was interrupted by a knock on the door. "Tareena? It's Mura'shar, I need to talk to you." Tareena slightly opened the door, surprised again for the second time in a few short minutes. Suspicion immediately followed surprise. "Yes, Mura'shar? If you're here to plead for Myiona's gain, I'll tell you once more..," "It's not about Myiona. Not directly, at least. May I come in?" Tareena allowed the Ashaman to enter her apartments, curiosity and trepidation equally warring within her. She liked Mura'shar, he was a good friend and it wasn't his fault that things were so messed up. She owed him courtesy but more than that, she wanted to freely give it. Looking at the floor, she noticed a slip of paper laying there. She slipped it into her pocket to be read when she was alone. As Mura'shar detailed his ideas to promote unity in the tower, Tareena had to admire the man's courage in the face of all that had happened. His bondmate and beloved was the center of a huge controversy yet, here he was, trying to be loyal to both and unify the tower. Respect does not come cheap but the Ashaman had won his, without question. Yet, she wasn't completely sold on the idea. What would happen if you combined classes of men and women? Would it have the desired effect or would it backfire? She just didn't know. As she was contemplating, Mura'shar staring at her intently, waiting for her to speak, Lar'ece once again entered the room. Mura'shar rose to greet her and then both took a seat, facing Tareena. Quickly and quietly Lare'ce informed them of what had occurred in the yard. Tareena rose and moved to the window, feeling as though the weight of the tower were resting on her shoulders. Turning, she looked at them, wishing that decisions were simple. Nodding her ascent at Mura'shar, he began to outline his plan to Lar'ece. Immediately the Dragonsworn added her stamp of approval to that of Mura'shar. Not entirely sure but willing to take the advice of those before her, Tareena agreed. They continued to discuss details, Mura'shar making extensive plans on what exactly needed to be taught and then he took his leave. Silence descended upon the apartments as each woman thought her thoughts. Tareena broke the silence. "You wanted to tell me something earlier, about what it means to be Aes Sedai. I think now would be a good time, I am ready to listen."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ---------------------------------------
OOC:: sorry this took so long, computer problems are a hassle :) Okay, the disturbance outside will be orchestrated by Emily and Luke so if you want your character to get in on it, then e-mail them and work it out. Lauren, I hope this works out for you, it was the only way I could work out being with you and Jake coming in at the same time :) at least I made you the muscle of the disturbance, I figured Lar'ece would play that part well :) If anyone has any questions or needs someone to RP with, let me know!
Lisa

 As Alcinia spoke, Myiona almost jumped in surprise. She listened to the warning offered, and thanked the Mayene for her concern. "I appreciate the support and what you offer," Myiona replied, "but there is nothing I can do about the situation. I tried to protect myself once, and even the one who accused me. I will not do anything to provoke an attack, nor will I defend myself from one. If they need my blood to satisfy their revenge . . ." She shrugged her shoulders and looked away. "You should stay out of this," the Domani warned. "Being seen with me will condemn you in the eyes of many. I am fine alone, and need no one to fight my battles or spy for me. Just go on about your own life, Alcinia. This is my problem and I will have to live with it." She turned and walked away quickly, heading toward her room. A note was tacked to the door: "Justice will find you. You cannot hide behind others forever." Myiona looked around, but could see no one nearby. With a sigh, she opened the door and went inside her room. The Domani locked the doors and fell across the bed. She cried until she fell asleep.
Vicky
aka Myiona

 As the night stirs, so do things moved by forces other than physical means. Darkness hides what daylight reveals, and the Shadow overtakes the Light. In darkness, dark deeds be done.. and chaos takes its toll. Such were the thoughts of (Talia) as she did about her own errands. After being dismissed from Mera--- Mura'shar's place by Myiona, she went about her other plans. A note here, a word there. Dissension and distrust sown with every syllable she uttered. Never was she completely on one side or the other. Weaving events as if they were threads in her needlework. She left letters and whispers everywhere.. even within the Asha'men's side of the Tower. After that was sorted out, (Talia) turned to her next job. Planning the death of the only person in this Tower that would ever know who she really was. She grinned to herself as she entered her own rooms. Observation had told her where Talia had slept. The Saldaean went through Talia's things.. studying everything. Things already stirred in the right direction. (~Things go as I plan already.~) thought the woman. (~I love a good game of stones.~)
~T
<><

 Darran was talking nonstop as they walked to the One Power training ground, and Darren didn't feel like answering. An occasional 'yes' sufficed, until Darran asked for an introduction to that Dragonsworn walking by over there he recognized but never met. Darren dutifully took a look - it was Andraia Korinth. "Hey, Andraia!" She turned and waited for them to get to her. "Hello, Darran." She took in Darran's presence with a look. "My counterpart has never met you before, and would like an introduction." "I'm Darran Sathke." "I am Andraia Korinth of the White ajah." From a glance, Darran replied, "So it seems." Rather than let things settle into an awkward silence at his faux pas, Andraia said, "An Aes Sedai's ajah refers to the nature of her talents and responsibilities, not to her pigmentation or lack thereof. White is the ajah of logic. Have you considered changing your name?" "Pardon me?" "Darran and Darren being so similar, it has probably led to some confusion." They nodded in unison. Darren held up his hand to break in. "There are other issues somewhat more pressing. I think that the judgement has been somewhat unpopular, even if it was ridiculous..." "Not at all. It was quite fair." "What? She was either a darkfriend or not." "It is unfortunate that that diversion succeeded. The charges your bondmate levelled did not contradict the three oaths in the least, and they are subtle. She was ordered to report the two soldiers to their commanding officer rather than deal with them herself. She was not given a time frame, so she was able to delay within the three oaths. However, this delay was unacceptable in Black Tower discipline structure, and its end result was the death of two soldiers. The negligence was the charge, not really murder." Darren chewed on that for a moment. "Still, the judgement is unpopular. To the extent that someone just approached us denouncing Aes Sedai in the open." "Things are more advanced than I had expected."
****
Luke
Darren/he who will very soon be known as Arran

 "You wanted to tell me something earlier, about what it means to be Aes Sedai. I think now would be a good time, I am ready to listen." Tareena sat back waiting for La'rece to begin. ~This should be interesting~ the Seanchan thought as she watched the woman across from her. Turning her head to gaze out the window, La'rece Barata'gan quickly considered what should be revealed. The difference between should and could was vast and certain things should perhaps remain concealed. Chuckling to herself, the Arafellan, still gazing out the window, spoke, "First, let's forget about what it means to be Aes Sedai as one might perhaps receive as many answers to that question as there are women in the White Tower. No ?rather ?what I think would help you understand the predicament that has beset the Black Tower is an understanding of the limits of the Three Oaths? "I understand very well ?an Aes Sedai cannot lie ?Myiona cannot lie? Tareena voice trailed off as she took in the other woman's mirthful grin. "What?!" "Tareena, the sky is yellow, rain falls from the ground to the sky, I am the Empress of Seanchan and my mother is a High Lord of Tear." "La'rece what are you saying and what does it have to do with ? suddenly understanding spread across Tareena's face. "You can speak lies! How is that possible?! There must be some catch, some trick ?perhaps if you know the other person accepts them as lies as well ? Slowly shaking her head, La'rece smiled at her fellow Dragonsworn, "No trick, Tareena." The Seanchan studied the woman seated across from her looking for clues as to how it was possible for her to lie, then like a bright flash she understood. "You are not bound by the Three Oaths. But you are ?were ?Aes Sedai!" "Technically, I will always be Aes Sedai, Tareena. And, I suppose, in a purely technical fashion, so are you ... being a trained woman who channels and all" La'rece's grin would have sent chills up the back of a battle hardened soldier, but Tareena faced her calmly. "So, you're telling me that Myiona is not bound by the Three Oaths either?" "No, I'm showing you that you cannot necessarily judge a person based upon a limited understanding of Aes Sedai and the rules that govern them. I have never lied to you, Tareena and yet I could. I was freed from the Three Oaths years ago." La'rece glanced sideways at Tareena, "I would thank you to please not share that around. I am not a darkfriend and would prefer not to have to prove it every second day." Tareena looked a bit skeptical at the last. "So, it goes back to the fact that Myiona cannot lie, therefore ? The Arafellan interrupted, "There's a difference between a flat out lie and ?working the truth, either intentionally or through sheer circumstance. Myiona's promise and agreement were not necessarily compromised in her actions and behavior. The very nature of the Three Oaths often leaves immense gaps in such promises ?questions of timing, circumstance and conditions, issues of precise meaning all arise. I know Myiona and she's no Darkfriend. Frankly, I can't believe she invited the opportunity to suggest such a thing as even being possible." "Darkfriend or not, she was wrong to kill those two soldiers and she directly disobeyed orders to report such an incidence and not take matters into her own hands ? Tareena responded. "Fah! You were there and I wasn't, but I can tell you right now having had a run in with those two even before Myiona, that they came sniffin' around for trouble and if they found it so much the better! I can't imagine why Myiona didn't broach the subject with Stevan earlier. Those men were out of control. However, as one of the very first women admitted to the Black Tower, I can tell you straight that there have been times of great resistance to any woman able to channel being permitted within its walls. And to make matters worse, Mazrim Taim's policies on the recruitment of Ashaman being what they are ?or aren't ?allows all kinds of undesirable personalities and mentalities to enter its gates. If those two weren't darkfriends themselves, they were next worse thing!" La'rece stood and poured herself a glass of wine. "Tareena, perhaps Myiona made a mistake in not telling Stevan, but was she truly wrong to defend herself? Why were they allowed to taunt and antagonize her to the breaking point?" La'rece looked at the other woman, calmly waiting her reply.
Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 Tareena sighed and looked at La'rece. "They were not allowed to do that and you know it. Mura'shar and Aramis took care of it the first time it happened and they would have done so again, if they had the information that it was indeed, happening. They are not Gods, all knowing and all seeing, they have to be told. It is our responsibility to work together, not apart. I do know what it is like to fight against the attitude of people not wanting a particular person or gender or breed in the Black Tower. I still fight being Seanchan to some. How are we going to expect the men to trust us and accept us if we don't trust them to handle discipline within their ranks? When a female does something that requires discipline, it is considered the repsponsibility of the 1st Dragonsworn or the Guardian to handle that situation. Wpuld it not mean, then, that when a man requires discipline, it should be up to the COS or the Tvor. to handle it? We can not continue to act outside of the chain of the chain of command of the tower and expect our bondmates to protect us from it. You, of all people, should understand that Lar'ece." Tareena watched as the Arafellan's eyes widened a fraction and then regained its calm facade. Tareena hated that she had to bring up the painful memory of Ivan's leavetaking but the facts remained. For the women to survive in the tower, they had to abide by the discipline of the tower and not rely on the men who bonded them. It was a hard reality and one that Tareena would rather not face at times. Especially now, when her own bondmate did not agree with her decisions and was not supporting her. There was a time when Tareena would have sacrificed anything to please her bondmate and her friends but that time had passed. She had grown since coming to the tower and besides that, she had been raised through the ranks and entrusted with the Guardianship of the tower. That meant she must lead the best way she knew how and that included making painful decisions for the good of the tower, not just her friends. Lar'ece excused herself from the room, a long day finally catching up to both of them. Lar'ece turned at the doorway, and stood there simply looking at Tareena. Weighing and measuring her through the eyes of an experienced fighter. "I do not agree with you Tareena and you know that. I have openly shown my support for Myiona and that will not change. However, we do fight for the same cause, regardless of personal feelings, and I will do my best to uphold that." With a nod, she left the room, closing the door behind her. Tareena felt an emptiness steel over her as the last sounds of the dragonsworn;s footsteps echoed down the hallway. Loneliness is a hard enemy to face, even in the best of times. Now, it felt as heavy as a rock, pressing down on her chest. she began to undress, pulling her dress over her head. As she did so, the piece of paper she had found earlier lying under her door fell to the floor. Picking it up, she began to read it, disbelieving even as her eyes took it all in.
----- Darkfriends are in the Tower. Do you not find it odd that a killer received little more than a demotion for her actions? It is not coincidence. I have seen and heard evidence that there is Darkness amidst us. For fear of discovery, I leave this letter anonymous. But know this.. trust no one.
----- Signed: A Friend
Crumpling the paper in her fists, anger kept pinned beneath the surface boiled over and grabbed ahold of her. Grabbing the first thing within her reach she turned and shattered a vase against the wall. How dare they!! This is out tower, we fight the darkfriends! How dare they think they can come in here and use us against ourselves! We will show them! I will not fail in my mission. We will have a united tower! Looking at the shards scattered across the room did nothing to ease her temper. Grabbing her dress, she hurredly put it back on, not bothering to check her appearance as she left her set of rooms. Practically stomping down the hallway and out of the tower, most who came into contact with her gave her a wide birth, even those whose open animosity would have brought on a confrontation under different circumstanes. She made her way out into the field and down to the lake, searching for her favorite spot, hoping that it would bring the peace and confort she so desperately needed at this moment.
 
 Mura'shar waited in the practice yard with a small group of
Soldiers and
Dedicated.  They were getting impatient.
    "Sir, why are we waiting?  Shouldn't you be teaching us something?
You
said this lesson would be important" one Soldier named Collin asked
nervously. The others were nodding in agreement.
    "It is an important lesson, Soldier.  But not all the students are
here
yet.  Ah!  Here they come!" he waved a small group over to where they
were
sitting.
    The students stared.  The students were all Novitiates and
Initiates,
being herded by Tareena.  Murashar noticed Shea in the group.  He was
glad to
see the Initiate had managed to escape that Portal Sone universe as
well.
When the students were all settled down, She took stood by Mura'shar's
side.
Mura'shar began the lesson
    "You are probably wondering what is going on here.  Men can't teach
women
anything about channeling, nor can women teach men.  Well, there are
some
things they can teach each other."
    "You are all no doubt aware of the recent, ah, unpleasantness
concerning
two Soldiers and the Former Dragonsworn Myiona" That part still caused
a
twinge in his heart, but he continued
    "I want to make sure this doesn't happen again.  His Storm Team is
unique
in that the Dragonsworn here have come of their own free will.  You
Soldiers
would do well to remember that.  Dragonworn are not servants."
    Tareena stepped in at this point.  "And the Dragonsworn would do as
well
to remember that these Asha'man are here to fight the Last Battle. You
have
grown up with horror stories of male channelers.  These men are not
those
horrors.  They are here to protect the world from the Dark One."
    The students were getting confused, so Mura'shar elaborated
    "You will be going into battle together eventually.  If you are
going to
be effective, you must be able to trust one another, work your way past
the
fears that have been instilled over the generations.  You will learn
how to
work together.  Tareena and I will show you how to complement your
skills and
fight as teams.  And you will be teams.  You don't have to like each
other,
but you will learn to fight alongside each other.  Because otherwise,
you
will end up killing each other, off or even on the battlefield.  Is
that
clear?"
    The students all nodded, though they still sat in separate groups.
That
was fine.  For now.
    "Good" he said and nodded to Tareena.  He felt goosebumps as she
embraced
saidar.  He reached for saidin, and filled himself with the One Power.
"First we will teach you to link.  Afterwards, we will explain the
bonding
process and what to expect, should you bond.  The experiences are
varied, but
they are usually intense. You should be prepared.  But first..."
    Mura'shar and Tareena linked, and demonstrated the advantages of
linking
over simply using two separate flows. They then split the groups so
they
could try linking on their own.  One way or another, they would have to
cooperate.
    When they seemed to be getting the idea, Mura'shar decided to test
them.
he led the entire group a short distance away to where a lage rock lay
imedded in the ground.  Linking with Tareena, Mura'shar lifted it with
Air
and held it over the students' head
    "Now we will see how well you can cooperate" he grinned.  He
selected
several of the students that were furthest along, both men and women,
and
explained what he wanted them to do.
    "No single person among you can hold this stone up.  I and Tareena
had to
cooperate just to lift it.  Now you will all link to move this stone.
Decide
who will lead, and take this stone to the center of the training yard.
I'd be
careful, or somebody can get hurt if it drops too suddenly."
    Mura'shar waited for the students to decide their plan of action.

__________________________________________________
OOC:  any Soldiers, Dedicated, Initiates, or Novitiates who want to may
insert themselves into the lesson.  Don't worry, I don't bite. Watch
out for
the rock, though:)

Jake
Marked Asha'man

 The Wheel of Time turns, and ages come and go, leaving memories that become dreams, dreams that become legends, and legends that fade to myth. In time myth is long forgotten, and the age that gave birth to the myth, returns. In one age, called the third age by some, an age yet to come, and age long past, a wind rose in the hills of Kintara. The wind was not the beginning, nor was it an ending, it was something in-between. Born in the lowly hills, the wind gently swayed north ward, past the River Cary, picking up a few small beads of moisture, and joined with an eastwardly blowing brother gust. Joined and gusted, both lending their ample supply of water to one another, mixing into a great thunderhead. Downward and eastward the black cloud rode, the wind caring it forward on it's journey. Before the thunderhead, the wind picked up other gusts, each bending their will to the might of the great storm. Each gust moved, whipping about a lonely stone, a half buried stone, a stone few had ever bothered to look at. Yet a small, mousy man gazed long and hard at the rock, as if the stone held his very life in it's hands. Orvil had made his sojourn to this lump of stone days ago, ever since his master had failed to return from the other world. Stevil brought food and news to the Master's second, relieving the elderly assistant in his vigil long enough for Orvil to rest for the next day. Without their master, most of the Libraries staff had paused, waiting to see if their friend and lord would ever return. A few leaves, pulled from their bows flash past, brushing the solitary figure. One snagged onto an indentation in the worn stone. As if it's presence disturbed the ancient monolith, a glow appeared in the gash that had once long ago been a sigil to another world The pale blue light pooling about the stone, bathing the valley for a moment in it's beauty. The leaf flashed into dust, and the glow retreated into the stone, dragging the shadows back over a new mound in the grass near the Portal stone. Curled as if asleep, a small man lay on the valley floor. Rising to his feet, the short figure reached out his hands to brush off the swirling leaves that had taken refuge in his thick black coat. "Master?" Came the fearful query, as if a mouse had grown wise enough for words. The thunderclap drowned out the reply. Yet the brief flash of illumination from the bolt of energy reaching from the ground to sky provided the answer. Orvil smiled, and ran to the master of the Library of the Black Tower. Hands clasped in a warm welcome, Orvil began to cry. With a simple brush of his worn hands, the elderly Cairheinian dried the cheeks of his assistant. Together they began to walk back to the sprawling farm yard. Orvil, bubbling with news, tried to tell his friend everything that had occurred since the towers return. "And the trial," he continued, "such a stupid thing, but then that sister, the one with the..." "Trial?" Came the soft question. Orvil stopped in midsentence, surprised at the quiver he had heard in the voice. "Yes, the sister Myiona's trial. The whole tower is split over it. There are those who are outraged that Myiona was let off with such a light sentence, and then there is..." Orvil stopped again, noticing that his master had stopped. For a moment, it seemed as if his master's eyes glowed a deep blue. Yet the glow passed, as the clouds rolled past the moon. Orvil looked up. "Reflection." He muttered, then his master spoke, the voice filled with urgency and power. "You will take me to where Myiona and La'rece are, immediately." Orvil nodded, and scurried off, Xyranthes in tow. The short man's strides quickly overtook Orvil's hurries feet. Down the shallow valley the two went, winding between the hills and the grove of trees. A second clash of light in the sky heralded the downpour to come. The path circled the grand lake, hugging the water, as the ribbon of worn earth threaded it's way into the Black Tower. Neither men glanced at the lone Aes Sedai standing by the shore, yet she saw them. The water came down in one long continuos sheet, soaking everything beneath the massive cloud. Xyranthes walked, never noticing the rain soaking into his jacket. Orvil tried to shield them both, but his strength in the One Power had never permitted him the ability to do more than a small flickering candle of light. And so the two endured the rains onslaught, trudging through the earth churning to mud beneath their feet. Orvil paused before a door, and knocked.
************
Well, I'm back. Sorry I was gone so long. Work took a lot out of me, and for a long time all I could do was read the RPs, I couldn't get enough time to write anything. But I'm back now, better than ever. BTW, no quotes in this RP, just a vague rip off from TEOTW. However, there is a reward, 2,000 points to the one who can correctly translate the Title of my RP. Hint, it's in a language you won't find in most dictionaries. : )
Peter
<><

 Shattering glass showered the floor and rug.  The teapot, made from the
finest yellow Sea Folk porcelain, lay in a thousand pieces.  La'rece
stood in the middle of the room, her eyes far off, a small fragment of a
note clutched tightly in her hand.  ?darkfriends in the Tower seeking
to defe? That was all there had been on the pitiful scrap of paper
La'rece had found in a darkened corner outside her apartments.

La'rece Barata'gan had spent a good part of her life hunting
darkfriends, specifically the Black Ajah.  She had no delusions about the Black
Tower.  There were sure to be darkfriends amongst the men and women who
populated the Tower's grounds working their deeds in furtherance of
their dark master.  It sometimes made the Arafellan cringe to think that
she could be so blas?about the presence of servants of the Dark One,
but as a warrior she had learned long ago not to allow the knowledge of
an unidentified enemy thwart her ability to perform a task at hand.  But
here was evidence that spoke of surreptitious dissemination of the
information.  The trick here was to determine whether the note's author
truly had knowledge of darkfriends ?or, whether the individual was one of
those who served Shai'tan and sought merely to sow dissention.  An easy
task made all the more so by recent events.

Ignoring the broken pottery, La'rece moved to the tall wardrobe
dominating the room.  Opening the carved doors, the Dragonsworn channeled
releasing the weaves that created the illusion of old shoes scattered about
the bottom.  In neat rows were several small boxes, some were carved
with images of flowers and vines while others were plain and
straightforward.  The items contained in the boxes were mostly personal keepsakes
that were nontheless valuable, but amongst the family jewelry and items
kept for their memories were a small assortment of angreal and
ter'angreal collected over the years.  Most Aes Sedai had one or two, but older
Sisters tended to have somewhat more.  Added to her own efforts over
the years, La'rece also possessed a small cache of the items of Power
from the Tower's raid on the ancient city found in the Spine of the World.
One item in particular seemed to radiate its own power ?an ivory rod,
fluted in a spiraling pattern.  The Oath Rod was about the length of
La'rece's forearm and seemed delicate and fragile.  She supposed it was,
though she was not inclined to test its resilience by thwacking it
against something.  Moving past the rod, she picked up a small sphere
carved from what appeared to be black stone though the surface and texture
felt too smooth and soft to be any stone La'rece had ever encountered.

The stone became warm as the Dragonsworn held it in her hand.  Fixing
her gaze on the stone's surface, La'rece gazed deeply.  Slowly the
stone's pattern began to shift and change.  A pale light began to bloom in
the heart of the stone, pulsing brighter and brighter as the sphere
opened a window in its center ?
Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 Myiona woke up early and sent for a tray, glad that at least Skree still believed in here. The young girl hung around her room for most of the morning, chatting happily about what had happened around the tower while they had been gone. She avoided mentioning the trial, but the Domani knew that everyone had heard of her sentence and the resulting chaos. Finally, Myiona sent Skree off to see if anyone else had anything that needed to be done. She dressed and went outside, walking through the courtyard and out into the garden. She bent down to tend to one of the small flowering bushes, and heard someone speaking nearby. "We'll fix things," a male voice said. "First we get rid of that darkfriend Darran and then we will teach Myiona a lesson. I can make a gateway and we can take her away from here, maybe into the Waste, and leave her there. Let the Aiel have her, or maybe she will just die for us." Terror filled the Domani's heart. She knew people were upset, but was not aware that they actually hated her. After the men walked off, Myiona stood with tears in her eyes. "I've got to find Mura'shar," she said softly. "I need him." Following the bond, Myiona found him out on the practice field *with* Tareena. She did not even notice the others watching. All she could see was how closely Mura'shar was standing to the woman who was trying to destroy her. She turned quickly and hurried from the grounds. Myiona went back to her room and locked the door. In privacy, the tears began to fall. She had told him to stay away from her, but she never thought he would do this. "How could he?" she muttered in a wavery voice. "How could he go to her, of all people?"
Vicky
aka Myiona

 Mura'shar was distracted for a moment. Myiona was upset again. Or more upset, he should say. Whatever she said, he would have to spend more time with her. Tongues will wag whether he stayed at her side or not. His Cairheinin upbringing made that clear to him. But first came the class. The students were busily trying to haul the stone to the spot he marked off for it. Tareena was making sure they didn't drop it on someone's head. That was when Mura'shar saw Darren and had an idea. "Darren! Darran! Come here! I want you to talk to these people" Murashar called him over. He quickly explained to them what he wanted, and why. Darren was agreeable, but Darran preferred to watch the class for a while first. When the students finally wrestled the stone in place, Mura'shar introduced their new instructor "This is Darren Sadke. He has forgotten more about defensive weaves than any of us are ever likely to learn. He will be showing us effective ways for Asha'man to defend Dragonsworn. Now pay attention, this could sav your lives one day!"
Note: CeNedra3's mailbox is full
Jake
Marked Asha'man

 Myiona cried for awhile, letting some of her pent up emotions out. She even threw a few breakables against the wall, letting her anger out. "Is there anyone I can trust?" she murmured. "I thought I could trust Mura'shar, but perhaps he has realized how much of a hindrance I am to him now. I thought he loved me, but I guess that was a silly dream as well." After some time had passed, the Domani decided to pull herself back together. "I have two choices," she said. "I can let this destroy me or I can fight back. The only problem is, I do not know what weapons I have to fight with. Maybe . . ." Myiona opened the door to see Skree standing outside. She held a piece of paper in her hand, and her face was white as the uniform of a Whitecloak. "What is it Skree?" she asked softly pulling the girl inside the room. Skree handed the paper to Myiona and dropped her eyes. The Domani read the note out loud. "Justice will only be served when the guilty are punished," was scrawled across the page. "This is your only warning. Leave the tower now or we will punish you for the foul acts you committed." "Oh Trolloc guts!" Myiona exclaimed loudly as she embraced the source. She considered burning the paper, but thought it might be wise to keep some evidence of the plot against her. "Skree, I need you to do something for me. I need to see La'rece, but I am not sure it is wise to leave the room now. Could you go and ask her to come here?"

 A slight ache wended its way into the Dragonsworns head.  She had been
channeling steady for almost three hours.  The small ter'angreal had
revealed much but told little.  A skrying stone in actuality, created
during the Age of Legends, utilizing small but steady amounts of Earth and
Spirit, the diminutive sphere could provide ?insights, or rather
images that provided insights, into future events.

 Over a hundred years ago, a White sister had told La'rece, a young
Green about the sphere's alleged uses.  A woman channeling small steady
twined weaves of Earth and Spirit could activate the device which
provided a series of moving images.  It was found that while these images were
not accurate in detail, they did set forth an overall clear picture of
events might soon follow.  However, after a thorough and exhaustive
examination by the Browns and Whites, the angreal was deemed unrealiable
and the sphere was stored away and forgotten.   Until La'rece Barata'gan
had found the tiny globe and borrowed it for future use.

La'rece recalled how the White had said that it was speculated that the
angreal worked best in situations that were highly emotionally charged
and in which the user was directly connected.

Letting the flows go and releasing Saidar, the Dragonsworn sat back in
her chair.  The images presented played in her mind.  Dark images.  All
seeming disjointed and yet ?somehow connected.

A knock at her door broke the Arafellan's revery.  Carefully placing
the small angreal in its box, setting it back on the floor of the armoire
and replacing the weaves that kept the small trove hidden from others'
eyes, La'rece said, "Come in."

The young girl, Skree, timidly entered the room and dropped a deep
curtsy.  "Dragonsworn," the girl began, "Myiona has asked that you come to
her chambers.  She ? the small voice trailed off.

"I understand, child.  I shall come immediately."  Donning her cloak,
the Dragonsworn channeled causing Skree to gasp.   A dark haired,
Saldean woman stood, her dark eyes sharp as tacks as they took in the girl.
"Let's go!"

Skree breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing La'rece's voice.  The
Dragonsworn opened a small Gateway that led to a path not far from Myiona's
apartments  Together Skree and the Dragonsworn stepped through the
Gateway onto the path and walked into the building to meet with Myiona?

Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 Alcinia had spent the days and nights watching everyone in the tower she could. She had even enlisted help from a couple of the novitiates. She didn't explain why she wanted to do this, just told them it was important. They did not think to question one of the Dragonsworn. She was outside watched a couple of the more suspicious acting men when the class began. The Mayene decided to watch and see if she could judge anything from the expressions on their faces. Alcinia was a bit surprised that Tareena was co-teaching the class, but that was not her business. After watching for awhile, she wandered off to do some more spying. Alcinia followed a couple of troublemakers off of the tower grounds. A small group of mostly soldiers was meeting there. The thief managed to sneak up close enough to hear what they were saying. After the meeting broke up, she knew she needed some advice on what to do. Alcinia headed back to the tower and began looking for Aramis. She found him talking with the weaponsmaster about a new sword. "I need to speak with you," she whispered. "It is important. Meet me down at the river in an hour." She hurried off, hoping no one would wonder why she had sought her bondmate out this day.

 River Undercuts the Bank. CRASH! Aramis went one way, sprawling to the floor, and the sword went the other way. Jaim Norvel peered up from behind a crate where he had dived for cover. With the way the morning had gone so far, Aramis was suprised Norvel didn't just stay there. Aramis picked himself off the ground and retrieved the sword. He liked the weight and balance, but he wasn't used to working sword forms with one hand. The rapier he had used after he lost his right hand wasn't built for the Heron forms. That was ultimately the reason he was here now making a fool of himself; an encounter with a Fade left his rapier in several pieces. Well, one of the reasons. "You've got two choices, Morwyn," chuckled Norvel, "you can buy a new sword... again... or you can grow stronger." Aramis grunted at the man and sheathed the sword. Norvel wasn't a bad man, a weapon maker who was some relative of Henre Haslin, just a little annoying at times. Luckily, his weapons were much better than his sense of humor. "Laugh all you want to, I could still take your head off." Norvel laughed even harder. "You almost did, that last time." Burn him. Aramis told himself he was not going to let this skinny nephew of a retired drunk get on his nerves. Everything else was getting on his nerves. He rattled the sword in its sheath. "Will this one hold an edge?" Norvel sputtered a string of objections,why, he had never had any complaints about his work, and so on. Aramis was doing a fine job of ignoring him when his bondmate appeared out of nowhere and whispered a quick "Meet me down at the river in an hour," and then was gone. He knew the woman had been sneaking again, but that was the first time she had sneaked up on him. Aramis considered for a moment. Given the circumstances at the Tower, whatever she had to say would be relevant, if not important.

 Darren blushed slightly as Mura'shar extolled his ability to deflect and change weaves. "I will certainly help as I can, though it will be difficult to teach this. Especially without preparation. Hmm." Darren looked over the soldiers and novitiates. "I know nothing of how to work with saidar; even when linked so it is available, I end up not using it in interference. So I am afraid that I cannot help you ladies. However, if you cooperate, I can help the soldiers learn how to cut the weaves of saidar... or... not." The novitiates were uniformly appalled at the very thought. One of the soldiers spoke up. "Why should they stand in the way of our learning? We'll need to cut saidar like butter if we're going to deal with those witches!" Darren faced him squarely. "I'm sure that we will be able to deal with the Aes Sedai with diplomacy. A large..." The sudden jeering was too much, and Mura'shar stepped in in alarm. *
***
Luke

 It's starting already. Already the novitiates and Soldiers were bickering. This is certainly not the way to impress Tareena with his idea. Mura'shar stepped forward. "Quiet! All of you!" he barked. He pointed at the Novitiates. "The Soldiers must learn to counter saidar. In battle, you will have to protect each other. That's the point of this exercise. If a Black Sister came after you, while you were helpless, wouldn't you want an Asha'man to be able to deal with her? Or a Seanchan sul'dam? As a matter of fact, several of the Forsaken are female. Your reluctance to help share knowledge could get us all killed" He then rounded on the Soldiers "And the next one of you to call any Dragonsworn a 'witch' will answer to me personally! We are not learning to channel to war on the White Tower. We are not Whitecloaks" he tapped his black tunic. For emphasis "We are here to fight the Last Battle. We fight Shadowspawn and Darkfriends. Any other concern is secondary. And I would treat these women with more respect. You never know when one of them may hold your life in her hands." "Like Myiona held those two Soldiers' lives in her hands?" the same Soldier sneered "Oh, yes, we know all about it. You're her bondmate, so of course you're using this class to justify her actions. If those awful Asha'man weren't so mean to her, they would still be alive'" he squeaked in a mocking falsetto. "The fact is, the Asha'man run the Black Tower. Dragonsworn answer to us. You're so twisted around that murderess Myiona's finger you can't see straight" Several other Soldiers were nodding or voicing their own opinions, including some rather crude ones about Dragonsworn in general and Myiona in particular. Several Novitiates were various shades of red or purple with outrage. Tareena's face was a white mask, and Darren was stunned at the reaction. Mura'shar kept his own emotions on a tight lid. Assuming the void, he whispered to Darren and Tareena. "Link with me, please" Assuming control of the link, he called out to the knot of Soldiers "You think Dragonsworn are useless? Fit only to serve you? You have no idea what you are talking about. Darren and I have linked with Tareena. Feel free to try us. We are not as strong as the three of us are individually. Surely all you brave Soldiers could overwhelm us with your might and wit" he bit the last word off sarcastically. "Come now, any of you, or all. Even Dragonsworn, if they wish. Try us, and see how much you have yet to learn." A half dozen Soldiers stood up. They did not exactly swagger over, but it was plain they expected to teach the masters a lesson in humility. Mura'shar did not hurt more than their pride, but he was sorely tempted. He let the link dissolve after all the Soldiers were lying on the ground gasping for air. To them he said "You are all confined to your quarters. No food for the rest of the day, and tin on your foolishness. Now go!" They staggered to their feet, shooting murderous glances at their teachers before leaving. One of them was muttering on how "they" won't get away with this To the rest of the class, "Novitiates, form small weaves for the Soldiers to find and cut. Soldiers, pay attention to what Darren has to say"
Jake
Marked Asha'man"

 Darren looked over to Tareena. "Would you try to make a lightning bolt centered on me?" Tareena hesitated a moment, but then weaved. Darren quickly lanced out with spirit, and the weave collapsed harmlessly. Facing the students, he explained. "That was somewhat unfair. I knew what she was doing. Men, did you have any hint of what she was doing aside from my telling her to make lightning?" No one was stupid enough to answer. "Does anyone have an idea how you could tell what she was trying to do?" After a few seconds a teenager stepped forward. "I could lay out long strands of air and feel them. If she did anything with air, I would feel that something was happening, even if I couldn't feel her doing it." Darren was surprised at the answer. "That is a very good idea. But only do it if there are no enemy wielders of saidin. You will be leaving yourself wide open to have those cut, or yourself severed. And... if the women guess that you have some detection out then they might cut it blind, as you will be doing to them." Another soldier called out, "So can we still them like they can sever us?" Darren nodded. "How?" Darren hesistated. "Just add a tiny thread of fire in a corkscrew around the spirit. If any of you do that while we are practicing, I will not only cut your weave, but I will shield you, and if I'm not feeling very generous indeed, sever you." Darren paused just a moment to make himself clear. "Ladies, let's start with an unfocused strand of spirit." Even with that threat in their favor, the novitiates only very reluctantly produced it. "Weaves primarily composed of spirit always have a thick central core. If you can split it..." Darren went on, keeping himself ready in case anyone tried to do something unfortunate. **** Darran watched passively, and somewhat jealously. {{I've never even been able to really see other strands of Saidin clearly. How can he guess the location of saidar so well as to interfere with it in such detailed ways?}} It wasn't long before he couldn't take it any longer, and left to check up on Erin, his Grolm. {{Sure, Darren said not to go anywhere without him or Mura'shar as escort, but I can take care of myself.}} The stables were surprisingly small considering the size of the tower - clearly indicating the reliance on Travelling rather than equestrian or grolm travel. Darran chuckled, seeing that Erin had three stalls of space, the walls of which were reinforced with tied-off weaves of air {{she must have broken down the other two walls}}. Darran's chuckle trailed off as he noticed she was quiet. Walking up to her, he stopped. And froze. In front of him was a dragkhar, whispering out an entrancing whine (yes, try to mix those two means of making sound). Darran didn't notice as Erin abruptly resumed normal activity. After briefly sniffing him, she loped around her pen. Oblivious, Darran opened the pen door to get closer to the dragkhar, closer to its mouth and his death. Darran suddenly snapped out of the trance as the dragkhar suddenly jerked and flew toward him. He siezed saidin but before he could channel, the dragkhar slammed into him, knocking him against the wall. Darran noticed out of the corner of his eye that Erin had been yanked across the stable. A moment later, the dragkhar was sucked off its feet, back into the stable. To resist the same suction, Darran punched his hand through the wall and grabbed onto a support beam. After a moment the suction subsided. He watched as the veins of the still-living dragkhar grew, and it clawed out reaching for a wall, but was stopped by the walls of air. Erin was holding up better, but Darran couldn't bear it longer. He recalled Darren's instructions and wove spirit, jabbing with a claw of it. Nothing happened. Erin fell to her side. He tried elsewhere, variations. Nothing happened. Resorting to his own methods, he wove earth into the air wall as thickly and quickly as he could, then rammed it. The once resilient air wall cracked, letting a trickle of ordinary, untrapped into the evacuated stable. Slamming himself against it again, Darran shattered the wall, and with a whoosh the pressures equalized. Erin moaned slightly. The dragkhar was not dead either, but it writhed in a continuing agony that could not be merely the fault of a non-fatal asphyxiation. Darran speared it through the throat, half in pity. He looked around. No one else was in the stable. {{Who did this and how? It clearly involved a woman. But perhaps some male assistance was involved, making the saidin air walls so sturdy as to hold in a vacuum! Whoever it is, they tried to kill me, and Erin as well! Hmm. Well, I guess I really should stick with Darren from now on. Assuming I can make it that far.}} Darran, seeing that Erin was back on her feet and hopping mad, mounted gingerly and set off for the practice yards.
****
Luke

 "The fact is, the Asha'man run the Black Tower. Dragonsworn answer to us. You're so twisted around that murderess Myiona's finger you can't see straight." Ariana, standing to one side of the training field, did not like what she was hearing. And it only got worse; she heard several muttered comments that she suspected applied to both Dragonsworn and Myiona. There were dark looks among the Soldiers, and the novitiates looked ready to explode. Darren himself seemed a bit stunned at such obvious bigotry. The diminutive Healer's face was impassive, but her emotions were throwing fits beneath her calm surface. She watched as the swaggering young fools attempted to defeat the linked instructors, and would have laughed at the end result had she not been so angry. *Fools,* Ariana thought. *Do they not realize that their very lives could one day depend on a Dragonsworn? After all, most Healers are women!* She noted faces as they trudged back to their quarters, then approached Darren, Tareena and Mura'shar. "I could not help but overhear," she commented with a frown. "Thank you for defending the Dragonsworn. I had no idea that the situation had gotten so bad." She considered a moment. "If you need someone to create more complex weaves for them later, I am willing," she offered. *I will do all I can to avoid this sort of conflict! And it's not like I have much to do in my spare time, anyway.* "I agree that this is something they all need to learn." She blushed faintly. "Light, even I don't know how to combat saidin, and I've been an Aes Sedai for four years." *I wonder if the Reds know how to do that,* she thought uneasily. *Surely they must. And I wonder why so few others learn it? Bah, I am becoming suspicious! Likely it is only the usual Aes Sedai reversion to anything that smacks of saidin.* She refocused her attention upon the conversation, and watched the glowing weaves of the novitiates being severed, slowly and irregularly at first, by what seemed to be a blank blade of nothing. *Interesting...* heheh, well, i'm back. :) Even college can't keep me quiet. Hah. Well, I just thought I'd jump in somewhere; you can ignore me as you please, or jump on Ari's offer, or whatever. :) I'm a nice mellow person. (Or maybe that's the mixed sodas- ooh, cherry coke, dr pepper, minute maid orange, sprite, seven up, mr pibb, and a dash of root beer! ::licks lips:: yumm!) :::laughs at anyone who gags::: Well, vielen dank for getting me back on the list. I do warn everyone- whatever server college mail here uses, it tends to fall on its face quite often, preventing me from sending email even when i can read it. But i will try very hard to make it work. Yay, it's so good to be back!
~Erin/Ariana

 Myiona sighed with relief as Skree returned with La'rece. "Thank you for coming," she said quickly. "I was not sure who else to turn to and Mura'shar seems to busy to bother now." The Domani asked Skree to run down to the kitchen and bring up some food for the three of them. She poured two cups of tea and sat down opposite La'rece. Before she lost her nerve, she handed the woman the note that she had found. "I admit that I am starting to be a bit afraid by all of the threats," Myiona said between sips. "Someone is serious about getting rid of me, and will strike eventually. I am not going to go looking for them, or even attempt to fight back. Still, I worry about others being caught in the battle. I want you to watch out for Skree for me, and Alcinia. She tends to get herself in trouble too easily and is probably out spying for me now." Myiona sat the cup down and stared out the window. "I have come to a decision," she said. "My presence here is causing too many problems. I am going to go away for awhile, back home. Can you find it by gateway if you have to contact me? I know this will be the best thing for everyone else and for the tower. I am not going to let my stupidity destroy everything we have worked for here. Perhaps, if I am gone, the whole matter will blow over and no one else will be hurt." The Domani bit her lower lip nervously. Her hands shook when she reached down to pick up the tea cup again. "I am a wreck, La'rece," she said sadly, "and of no use to anyone else in this state. I hope you understand and can explain things to Mura'shar."
Vicky aka Myiona
"ready to run."

 Elois (eh-LOY) knotted her fingers together, than smoothed the sheer fabric of the borrowed blouse over her stomach. It still startled her when she caught a reflection of herself in a mirror, unused to seeing herself out of Domani gray. Although, most things startled her now. Her every nerve felt constantly charged. Maybe if I had something to do with my time, I could expend some of this nervous energy...The major problem being, without Leban, she didn't know what to do with herself. She just wandered around the Tower grounds, waiting for someone to tell her what to do. Not that Elois missed her sul'dam, it was just hard adjusting to freedom again. She still woke in the middle of the night, having dreamt she was subjected to more of Leban's "little experimental lessons." The Amadician woman bypassed the yard where a lesson was being taught. It didn't take a Seeker to intuit the underlying tension in the mixed group. Elois even could put names to a few of the faces in the group, though most seemed to be new. She heard angry shouting, and it made her cringe inwardly (hopefully, only inwardly). She tensed for the sensation of her own connection to saidar being used against her in punishment, but of course it never came. Inoportunely, a fellow Ase Sedai (Yes, that's what you are ninny, no use dancing about those two little words.) stopped to offer a few words of welcome back. Elois woodenly responded, forced a smile and then hurried in the opposite direction. Even the people of the Black Tower made her nervous. She was afraid someone would find out where she had been, spread the word, and then everyone would look at her with pity in their eyes, or worse, and that she would not - could not - stand. All she could do was hide in the bedroom she shared, and fret about the undercurrents of animosity that undermined the stability of the Tower. Elois had only a sketchy summary of what had happened (Not that there hasn't always been hostility between Aes Sedai and Asha'men) to cause the rift. The White sister turned her steps toward the building where she slept, intending to spend another night in hiding.
Elois-mun (Hannah)
 
 Alcina stood in the shade of a huge oak tree, enjoying the calmness of the setting. She had a basket of food sitting on the ground, a perfect cover for her real motive for asking her bondmate to join her. She turned as she heard someone approach, knowing that it was Aramis before she even saw him. "I'm glad you came," she said softly and then sat down near the basket. "I hope you are hungry. I thought this would look like a picnic and no one would wonder what I am doing." Alcinia opened the basket and pulled out a loaf of bread and some cheese. She broke them into two pieces and handed half to Aramis. "I have been watching people since this happened with Myiona," she said softly. "There are several things bothering me. I have seen Talia sneaking around the tower a lot. Also, there is a great deal of plotting going on among the male channelers. I have caught a few hints that something big is being planned, but I do not know what exactly." The thief sat the food down, suddenly feeling queasy. "I am worried," she admitted. "I offered to help Myiona, but she turned me down. I think she would let them kill her just to end the fighting. Maybe she has something else planned, but it seems that she is pushing everyone away. I'd talk to Mura'shar, but I don't want to draw anymore attention to myself. What do you think we should do?"

 Tareena grimly watched as the young people left the training grounds. Mura'shar walked over to her, looking at her out of the corner of his eye, obviously wondering what she was going to say to him. This had been his idea and he had taken a lot on to make it happen. Just because she wanted to lash out at him did not mean he deserved it. Placing a hand on his shoulder, she smiled at him. A genuine smile full of the love and friendship she felt for him. Regardless of the situation with Myiona, he was a good man and deserved her confidence and support. "We knew it was going to be hard Mura'shar. Not that hard....but hard. It will just take some time. Let's keep at it and I think we should include others in our efforts. You handled the situation well. Keep up the good work." Her kind words were rewarded by his expression alone. Relief and a spark of confidence. "I, for one, want to get out of this sun and into my rooms. Take care and we shall speak later." For one heartbeat, she had almost said tell Myiona hello for me and then once it again, it hit her. That was not possible. In all probability, it would never happen again. With a sigh, she turned towards the path leading to her rooms. Darren moved up beside her, walking quietly. They had not seen much of each other since the return from Rhuidean and the subsequent trial. Tareena knew much of the silence was due to her. She had gotten her feelings hurt by his lack of support and wasn't sure how to handle it. Part of her wanted to strike out at him and the other wanted to run and hide. If he couldn't be there for her, how was anyone else going to believe in her. Moving into the coolness of her apartments, she felt the tension rise to a peak. She walked into the other room and with a cool cloth, wiped away the sweat and dirt of the training field. After changing into a light summer dress, she felt much refreshed and somehow ready to face him. She stood in the doorway, just watching him. He was standing at her window, watching some unknown scene outside. the lines and planes of his face were hard. Goodness knows he had lived a lot in his lifetime. She wanted to go to him, comfort him, find comfort for herself in his arms. Yet, first, they must clear the air. He turned towards her and as their eyes met, she felt a flutter from deep within.

 Mura'shar was actually relieved when the lesson finally ended. There were no more major incidents, but the tension between the students was palpable. The brawl had attracted onlookers. Which meant soon the entire Tower will know about his failed experiment soon. His one bright point came immediately after he sent the troublemakers away. One of the spectators was Ariana. She came up to the three instructors and voiced her approval of their defending the Dragonworn "If you need someone to create more complex weaves for them later, I am willing," Mura'shar grinned "I may take you up on that offer. Some of these fools should see what a fully trained Dragonsworn can do. It may take the wind out of some of their sails" But after he dismissed the class, he had a hard time meeting Tareena's eyes. She hardly said a word directly to him the entire class, and he didn't like the grim look on her face as she watched the class disperse. To his surprise, she actually smiled at him "We knew it was going to be ha rd Mura'shar. Not that hard....but hard. It will just take some time. Let's keep at it and I think we should include others in our efforts. You handled the situation well. Keep up the good work." Relief flooded through him. The classes would continue! And bringing others in? Light, he'd need more people to control nay class this size f the tension continues. He'd definitely take Ariana up on her offer. And Darren, if he's willing, and... He was still running through the list of potential instructors as he and Tareena made their farewells. It was almost like old times, except she seemed about to say something and cut herself off. He didn't know what it was and didn't care to ask. He merely bid her good day, and headed for his own quarters. Despite his good mood, he still felt Myiona's sadness. She desperately needed cheering up. He had an idea on how to do that too. He had a little coin saved up now would be a good time to use it. Once he was in his quarters, he changed into a less noticeable outfit, few people knew of the Asha'man, but he'd take no chances, and Traveled just outside Caemlyn. He entered the city, and spoke to a few people, and made some arrangements. When he returned, he had made reservations for the next evening for them to dine at the Golden Lion, one of the fanciest restaurants in Caemlyn. An evening of good food, good wine, and dancing will hopefully give her at least a temporary respite from this crushing despair she's been feeling. "I can't take the pain away, but maybe I can ease it a little" he murmured to himself as he changed back into his black coat and headed for her quarters.
Jake
Marked Asha'man
Bringer of good cheer?

 La'rece tried to talk the Domani out of her decision, but Myiona remained firm. "I can see no other way to work things out," she said. "If someone else was to get hurt for my actions, I would never forgive myself." "When will you be leaving?" the Bladesmaster asked calmly, her face not betraying any hint of emotion. "I have been thinking about that," the Domani answered standing up and walking to a window. She could feel exactly where Mura'shar was and knew he could do the same. "The bond and everything between the two of us, I know he would try to stop me. While he is awake and alert, I doubt I could get off the tower grounds. I am going tonight after he is asleep. If I can get back home, I doubt he would come after me." "I am not so sure about that," La'rece replied, "but perhaps the distance will make you more difficult to locate." Myiona nodded. "You will watch out for Skree and Alcinia for me?" she asked again. "I doubt you could influence my stubborn bondmate much, but try to get him to see why I had to go." La'rece nodded and stood. The two women hugged before she left into the garden. Myiona stood silently for a little while and then sat down to write a long letter to her bondmate.
Vicky
aka Myiona

 Aramis took a bite of his bread and cheese and washed it down with a gulp of wine as he considered his response. She wasn't going to like it, but... "I don't know that we can do anything." "But--!" "I'm serious!" He lowered his voice. "One way or another, the bonded Asha'man will have to stand by the Dragonsworn. If the problem doesn't go away on it's own, the M'Hael will make it go away..." he hoped "... but I don't want some idiot trying to rid the Tower of a Dragonsworn and kill a thief by mistake." "But how much hate will we face before then? What if two or three Dragonsworn die before Taim takes notice?" "I'm not worried about two or three Dragonsworn. I'm worried about you." She gave him an unreadable look. A jumble of mixed feelings tumbled through the bond. He hurried on. "I want you to bond me. If we're going to get through this, we should be on equal footing." Alcinia paused a moment... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
James
aka Aramis
Bonded to Alcinia Asha'man, Black Tower
 
 Myiona's quarters weren't far. It should only take a couple of minutes. Mura'shar hoped Myiona would like the plans he'd made for tomorrow night. She deserved some down time after all that's happened. There was shouting in the distance. Mura'shar shaded his eyes and looked to see what all the commotion was about. A large figure was moving, heading his way... As it got closer, he saw that it was more than large, it was enormous. A three-eyed cross between a toad and a lizard, if such a creature could be the size of a bear. A grolm? At the Black Tower? How could they have gotten this far? Mura'shar reached for his sword before realizing he'd left it in his quarters. Cursing his luck, Mura'shar ducked between two buildings. If the Seanchan have invaded the Black Tower, sul'dam are bound to be about. It would be incredibly stupid to do otherwise. He'd have to reach Myiona quickly and warn her. The grolm bounded closer. It had a rider, Mura'shar could see now. People were scattering to avoid being trampled, but no one was hindering it. Curious. Mura'shar could sense no saidin being wielded. A surprise attack? Unlikely. Maybe if he took a prisoner he could find out what's going on. The man on the grolm was in black, and was shouting. Mura'shar. He's been spotted. He'll have to handle both the rider and the mount quickly before he can call reinforcements. Mura'shar prepared some nasty weaves guaranteed to incapacitate the rider. The grolm he'll handle later with some killing weaves. He stepped out from behind the building and prepared to get some answers from this Seanchan invader. Mura'shar swallowed his nervousness. He had never faced a grolm before, and didn't know how much it would take to kill one. He seized sadin and began his weaves when the rider's features became visible. Mura'shar's weaves collapsed and he released sadin. He saw the odd spear the rider was carrying and knew who he was seeing "Darran? What in the Light are you doing with this...creature? You know that's a good way to get yourself killed! What's is a grolm doing here anyway!? Mura'shar realized he was babbling to conceal his embarrassment and waited for Darran to start answering his questions.

 Darran saw Mura'shar and turned Erin. "Mura'shar! Hey!" Mura'shar didn't seem to understand him and leapt out of the way. Erin slowed and stopped right next to him, and Darran jumped off, ignoring Mura'shar's berating him. "I just almost died! There was a trap, and a draghkar got me but the trap killed it and I had to break the trap to save Erin and the stables are messed up you have to come see if you can see what the weaves were because there was saidar in it and saidin mixed. Both the Dark One and someone else is after me." "What?" Darran tried again. "I walked into the stables to check on Erin here, and a draghkar was hiding in her stall. The next I knew, a trap sprung and pulled it into the stable with air, and sucked all the air out. Erin was dying, it was dying. To save her, I broke the trap open. But the trap used Saidar. So a woman around here is out to kill me. Not to mention the draghkar." Mura'shar considered for a moment. "Well, who would want you dead?" "The weaves may decay quickly. we have to look!" "Don't ask me, I can't see saidar better than you can." "But you know who to ask!" Mura'shar nodded quickly, and Travelled to just outside Myiona's apartment - where he had been heading moments before, but now somewhat more urgently. In the few moments of waiting, Darran began ticking off possibilities. "Who would want me dead? The Dark One, for betraying him. Darkfriends, to impress their master. Anyone who thinks I am a darkfriend. Anyone who doesn't like Grolm, perhaps..."
****
Luke Darren, Darran

 "I want you to bond me," Aramis said. "If we're going to get through this, we should be on equal footing." Alcinia sat quietly for a moment thinking about it. He was not going to give up on the idea no matter how many times she avoided answering him, or tried putting him off. "Okay," she said finally, "but I still think we should at least tell Mura'shar what is going on. He will want to know." Alcinia embraced the source and put her hands on Aramis' head. The weaves were fairly easy to produce and then the connection between them seemed to grow. She sat back with eyes wide open, nearly in a state of panic.
Alcinia
 
 Mura'shar grimaced as yet another crisis appeared in the Black Tower. Someone, a Dragonsworn, it would seem, is trying to kill Darran. And his grolm, however it managed to get into the Black Tower stables. He found it hard to believe that any Dragonsworn would try to kill the former Darkfriend. This anti-Dragonsworn hysteria would only be fed if an Asha'man was killed with saidar. A Darkfriend infiltration, meant to stir up chaos? Maybe, but still unlikely in his opinion. He didn't want to think of any of his friends or students being Darkfriends, whatever Talia's warnings. He walked up to Myiona's door. She helped train most of the Dragonsworn. She would know if there were any capable of what Darran described. And this task may take her mind off her current worries. Maybe give her something else to dwell on. Mura'shar snorted. He could just imagine the conversation: "Myiona, since you've been under so much stress lately, I've made arrangements to take you out to dinner and dancing tomorrow night. Oh, and by the way, do you know of any Dragonsworn who might want to kill Darran?" Maybe there's a more tactful way to ask her. He decided as he knocked on the door "Myiona? It's Mura'shar. Can I talk to you for a minute? It's important."
Jake
Marked Asha'man

 "Myiona? It's Mura'shar. Can I talk to you for a minute? It's important." The Domani walked to the door slowly feeling very tired and alone. She opened the door and walked away to sit down. The front of her dress was wrinkled from where she had clenched it over and over during the day. She sighed and pushed her hair back out of her face. "What is it?" she asked finally motioning for Mura'shar to sit down if he wanted to. "Someone attacked and tried to kill Darran," he said after sitting beside her. "I need your help in finding out who, if any, at the tower is capable of doing what was done." "I assume that means it was a female channeler," she answered distantly. "Why didn't you go to Tareena with this need? She seems to be your favorite companion these days."

 After everything was said and done, Aramis' first thought was that Alcinia was going to throw a screaming, panicked fit. The two of them still sat on the picnic blanket, so Aramis reached around and grabbed a bottle of wine without breaking eye contact and handed it to his stricken bondmate. Double bondmate, now. Just as silently Alcinia pulled the cork out of the bottle with her teeth and began swilling the contents of the bottle. Aramis considered what he had heard of the Aes Sedai/ Warder bond, and what happened when that bond was severed. What would happen if one of the two of them died, now? "Oh, Light! Don't say that!" Alcinia groaned before turning the bottle up again. Aramis hadn't realized he had spoken aloud. Then he pulled the wine away from the fool woman before she drowned in it. "Easy, Alcinia. You'll need your wits if we're going to talk with Mura'shar." Aramis made sure to finish of what was left in the bottle before tossing it aside. "Lead the way," he told his bondmate. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
James
aka Aramis Bonded to Alcinia

 "Why didn't you go to Tareena with this need?  She seems to be your
favorite
companion these days."

    Mura'shar winced inside.  Myiona knew about the lessons.  It was
inevitable, really, but it would have been better if she had made this
discovery a little later, when things had settled down some and
everyone was
thinking more clearly.
    He let her comment pass. "Yes, apparently saidar was used.  I
didn't go
to Tareena partly because since you helped train most of the
Dragonsworn in
this Storm team. You could know better than most who could have done
this.
Also, I want to tell you that I've made some arrangements.  Tommorrow
night,
I'm taking yo to the Golden Lion in Caemlyn. There'll be good food,
good wine
and dancing.  You've been cooped up here to long, and you need to take
your
mind off things"
    This didn't seem to mollify Myiona "You think that you can go off
with...her...you can simply come back here like nothing's wrong?" her
voice
was gathering heat
    "I trusted you, Mura'shar.  I thought you would understand what
happened
to me, what I'm going through. And you betray me, just like the
others!"
    Mura'shar kept his voice mild.  "You told me yourself that I have
to keep
working with Tareena, whatever happens.  You even said that I should
keep my
distance form you.  That part, at least, I've decided was a mistake."
    Mura'shar took Myiona's hand.  She looked like she hadn't been out
all
day.  That troubled him Myiona had always been vibrant and alive.
Usually
making him appear stiff and distant in comparison.  He wished he knew
what to
tell her that would make things better.  "Please, Myiona, don't shut
the
Tower out.  Don't shut ME out.  I'm here for you, always."

 "Please, Myiona, don't shut the Tower out. Don't shut ME out. I'm here for you, always." "Me shut the Tower out?" Myiona asked incredulously. "It is the other way around. Since I have come back only you, Talia, Alcinia, and La'rece have come to see me. I have been judged guilty regardless of what Stevan decided. I can understand the need for distance, guilt by association." The Domani sighed softly. "I cannot blame you for staying away as well, but it hurts me that you turned to her after what she did to me. I was forced to kill those men to save her life and this is . . . Never mind, we have gone over this time and time again." Turning her mind to the reason for Mura'shar's visit, she considered the attack on Darran and the weaves that were most likely used. "I cannot think of any of the Dragonsworn who have the abilities to do what was done, unless it is . . ." Myiona stopped and shook her head. "No, even she would not try to kill her bondmate's double. And, considering how the distrust between the male and female channelers has grown, it would be unlikely that there would be enough cooperation to work together as must have been done. It must be an outsider or . . ." A speculative look came into Myiona's eyes. "What if one of the others managed to come here," she said in a frightened voice, "pretending to be one of our own, like Mera'shar did? That could explain the hows and whys of the attempt. I do not like the implications of that though. No one is safe if that is true." Myiona stood up and walked over to look out the window. "Mura'shar," she said, "I hope that when tomorrow comes you will still want to take me to dinner and dancing. Time has a strange way of changing even the things we think are constant. I . . ." "I am tired and need some sleep," Myiona said softly. She walked back over and kissed her bondmate passionately. "No matter what else happens, I love you." She walked to the door and opened it, waiting for Mura'shar to leave. Hours later, when the tower was quiet and everyone was asleep. The Domani snuck out of the building to the garden. She had considered gating from her room, but thought the risk too great. She stepped into a clearing and looked back at the tower, and then everything went black.
Vicky
aka Myiona

 Mura'shar was worried as he left Myiona's quarters. She was truly not herself. And the way she kissed him, it was almost like she didn't expect to see him again. But that's nonsense. She must know that wherever she goes, he will follow. It was a matter of obligation to him. Pushing the problem aside for the moment, he focused on the immediate concern. When he reached Darran, he delivered the news. Myiona doesn't know anyone capable of he trap you described. I suggest you ask tareena if she knows anyone. It would be...unwise for me to ask her at the moment. I'll ask a couple of other people to keep their eyes open. Darran nodded, though he was clearly curious, and Mura'shar walked to another part of the Dragonsworn area of the Tower. There were two Dragonsworn who could ferret out nearly anything. Alcinia and Talia. Hell ask them to do some quiet investigating. He reached Talia's quarters first. Trying to brush aside his worried thoughts, Mura'shar he knocked on Talia's door "Talia? It's Mura'shar. I need your help with something" Having spent the night out traipsing about, Taria.. er?I mean?Talia finally found her way back into her rooms. Not long after that, she was interrupted from her nightly dress down ritual by a knock at her door. Muttering something quietly to herself about nosy do-gooders, Talia arose and opened the door a crack. "Mura'shar? She began?"What do you need?" Quick, and to the point. "Someone tried to kill Darran today. Someone using sadiar" Mura'shar began without preamble. "I thought that you, with your skills at, ah 'information gathering' could come in handy" He looked uncomfortable. He was basically asking someone to spy on fellow members of the Black Tower. "I've heard several theories already. The Black Ajah. A Darkfriend infiltration. even that one of the Others from that alternate world followed us back. What I need are facts. Can you help me find those facts?" "Tension, suspicion ?everything of a negative manner is filling the air with tension thick enough to slice with a blade," Talia mentioned softly, as if reflecting upon something. There was something else there ?for a moment or two it seemed as if she was regretting something ?or disappointed. "It could be anything.... Darran is from the other world, after all? Something behind her words might seem ?troubling, as if she had a deep and hidden knowledge? However, that sense was brief, as sure and firm resolve replaced that expression of knowing. "Facts... I have by the store ... and I'll have more by tomorrow night." Talia paused?"How's Myiona doing, Mura'shar? And Darran? I suppose tried means he survived, no?" "Myiona's....fine" Mura'shar tried to evade the question She was most definitely not fine. "As to Darran, he's shaken up. But he and his grolm seem none the worse for wear. You know he has a grolm, right?" Talia -appeared- to be slightly surprised at the fact. In truth, she knew he had a grolm, but a small measure of surprise would do her facade justice. "A grolm? Isn't that dangerous to keep around?" "I would have thought so, but she seems tame enough. He seems quite attached to it, really" Mura'shar lowered his voice. I'd like this to be handled quietly. I'll be making inquiries myself, and others I can trust as well. But I don't want to spook whoever attacked Darran. I have suspicions that whoever did so may mean Myiona harm as well. I won't see her hurt if I can possibly stop it" "I wouldn't expect any less of you, Mura'shar." Yes, this man was much different from the man she was used to. Ah.. to miss home. Talia nodded, "Quietly, then ?but how do you know ?even with as small inquiries as you make, that you haven't already set the course for the attacker to be spooked?" "I don't. But so far I've only talked to Darran, Myiona, and you At the moment, I'm reasonably sure I haven't given away what I know to the attacker, or any accomplices she might have" his gaze hardened "Accomplices. That's something else to consider. She may have others working for her. Be careful Talia. There may be others out there, even men. You're my friend and I'd hate to think I sent you out into danger you weren't prepared for" Talia smiled and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Do not worry about me, friend.. I know many ways to learn without even being seen." There was something odd about her smile.. However, she turned away before he could examine it further. "It has been a tiring night, with all the happenings and goings on. I shall sleep for a while.. and then seek out the answers you need." Mura'shar smiled in relief "Excellent! I'll owe you a great favor for this, Talia. The Black Tower is in enough disarray as it is without an assassin in our midst" he clapped his hands together "Maybe the Wheel is finally starting to weave things our way" he bid her farewell and went on to recruit his next agent The woman who called herself Talia grinned to herself as Mura'shar left. "The Wheel is weaving.. " she whispered to herself, "but whose way.. that has yet to be determined." With that, she closed her door, and started her own plans.

 She opened her eyes slowly, trying the block out the throbbing of her head. Myiona reached up and felt a large bump where she had been hit. There was also a strange taste in her mouth. she thought. The surface she was sitting on was damp. It took a moment for her to realize that it was dirt of some kind. Myiona briefly worried about her dress, and the stains that would be on it. She almost laughed at her own foolishness. The last thing she should be worrying about was her clothing. She needed to find a way out. At first, the dragonsworn thought that she had lost her sight, but began to make shapes out in the darkness. Reaching her hands out, she could touch the walls on all four sides, but not above. The surface of the walls was slick and wet, like the ground below. She stood up to try to find the top, but it was further than she could reach. Myiona sat back down, feeling dizzy and confused. There was not enough room for her to open a gateway, and she could not even embrace the source with the drugs that had been given to her. The Domani leaned her head against the side of her prison and cried. She knew that La'rece would tell Mura'shar that she went home for awhile and he would not be looking for her. Chances of anyone showing up to rescue her were pretty slim. The only way out of the situation would be for the Dragonsworn to save herself, but she did not have the strength. Myiona realized, She ran her tongue over her dry lips and wished there had been a little water left in the well. She would need water soon, and food after that if she was to regain her strength to escape.
Vicky
aka Myiona
 
 Stevan turned over in bed, trying to shut out the sound of the cock crowing for him to wake up. These days he would prefer to stay in bed. After all, no one seemed confident in his leadership anymore. There were those who thought that Stevan had given in to Tareena to punish Myiona, when in reality she had done nothing wrong. Then again, there were those who felt he should have punished her much more. He had taken the middle road, in order to try and please everybody, and had ended up pleasing nobody. Still, no matter what he had done, there would still be those who hated him. He was getting sick of this leadership. And now a feud was beginning between members of the Tower, which naturally he was supposed to stop. But judging on how things were going at the moment, he'd end up doing more harm than good. He wanted to help, that was not the issue. A united Tower, with everyone trusting each other, was something he strived for. But could he... At least there was one thing that he was looking forward to today, for he always enjoyed Provings. He could still remember the pride he felt when he was Proved. And now he could do it himself. It was always worth seeing the pride on their faces. Made his job worth doing. Just about. Darren stood before him as he spoke to the ensemble of Asha'man and Dragonsworn gathered to witness the Proving. "You've been an Asha'man for a long time, and in spite of your block you've always fought hard for the Tower and helped many of us in battle. This dedication is what has awarded you the rank of Marked. From now on, you will be known as Darren Sadke, Marked Asha'man." The audience cheered. He could see the pride on Darren's face, but it also appeared on that of Darran and Tareena. It was nice to see Tareena happy, she was also under a lot of pressure. He felt that she had been hurt badly by Myiona, and then hurting Myiona in return had hurt her even more. And as for Darran...well, Stevan was still figuring him out. Naturally, he was like Darren himself, but Stevan did wonder where his motives lay. He hoped they were good, after all, having two Darren's wouldn't do the Tower much harm. As Stevan began to walk from the room, he began to enjoy leadership again. Provings always made him happy. He would try his best to heal the rift in the Tower. He would try. He would.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ------------------------------------------
Steve -----------------------------------------------------------
M'Hael of the Black Tower Marked Asha'man Stevan Jaer Ingaren Lord of Fal Sion
-----------------------------------------------------------
<><

 Alcinia and Aramis walked back toward the tower, looking for Mura'shar. The thief was not sure what scared her more, the bond or the threat to Myiona. Still, the Domani had helped Alcinia out of enough jams that she had to pay her back somehow. "Mura'shar," Alcinia called knocking on his door, "it is Aramis and Alcinia. I, we need to talk with you. It is important." "I think you should sit down," she said looking at his white face. "There are some things going on here that you need to know about. First, I overheard some soldiers, or maybe Asha'men, plotting to 'hand out justice' to Myiona. I have been watching them, but they have done nothing yet. I could be just idle talk." She told him the names of the ones she knew were involved in the plot. Alcinia also mentioned Talia's suspicious behavior. "I tried to talk to Myiona," she finished, "but she told me to mind my own business. I thought you should know because I am afraid things are going to get a lot worse before they get better."
Alcinia

 Myiona finally fell asleep again after trying, without success, for several hours to get up the sides of the well. On the last try, she had finally managed to get several feet up before falling back down. She had twisted her ankle and knew that it would be difficult to climb anymore. The sounds of voices from above woke her. It took a few minutes for the Domani to remember where she was. She did not say anything, afraid her captors had come back to "finish the job." Myiona listened quietly and was surprised when she was reminded of Tareena. she realized. Myiona felt like crying, but knew it would do her no good to lose what little control she had. Someone would come looking for her eventually, she hoped.
Vicky
aka Myiona
 
 Elois shuffled into the room she shared with Ariana, but no one was there. In a way she was happy, although she would've like to have had some one there to speak with and distract herself. Instead, she changed into a shift and heavy robe and sat on her narrow bed with a book penned by the former White Amyrlin Beryl Marle. Of course, her mind was not on the book, but she liked to pretend that she had something to do in case Ariana came in. And then she did. Carefully her roommate limped around the few odd articles of clothing they both had been too preoccupied to put away. They smiled at each other. "What was all that commotion in the yard a bit ago?" Elois opened. Ariana seemed preoccupied as she answered. "The yard?-- Oh. There was... an experiment of sorts. They tried classes with Soldiers and Novitiates together." A worried sigh. "Some of the young bucks decided it was a waste of their time to practice with female channelers, since the Creator made Dragonsworn to serve them. The instructors had to teach them otherwise." The Healer glanced out the window, and when she next spoke, it seemed to be directed at herself. "I had no idea it was so bad..." She shook her head. "Anyway, I volunteered to produce weaves for the Soldiers to practice breaking, once they got past the basic ones the novices were making." *Sometimes I wonder if that was wise, the way they seem to treat Dragonsworn in particular and women in general. But not all of them think that way, and they need to know how to defend themselves from all the Aes Sedai in the city.* Ariana shook her head, and a wisp of chestnut hair fell in her eyes. Irritably she raked it back behind her ears, then turned to Elois. She realized she didn't know very much about her new roommate, and perhaps this was the perfect time to learn a little more. She smiled. "You were Aes Sedai? How do you find the Black Tower, then? I know it's different..." "Yes it is different," Elois mused, though she only meant it was different from when she'd left it. Or was taken away from. "In the White Tower," she added with a bittersweet smile, "the divisons aren't so openly flaunted." Ariana nodded as she took a seat on the second bed in the claustrophobic room. "Yet... Correct me if I'm wrong, but I can almost hear traces of Amadician in your speech." "Yes, it's true," she conceded. "I was born and, well, I suppose you could say raised there. Though I feel I've only learned anything since I've joined the Towers. I was so naive." She laughed, and was surprised that she could. "You are Amadician, as well?" The other woman nodded. "I lived on my mother's estate outside Amador." "Why, then, we must have been neighbors. Isn't that odd." In a gesture of goodwill, Elois forced herself to be more outgoing than she felt. Ariana seemed like a perfectly affable woman. "How long have you been Aes Sedai? And, oh it's odd to have to ask, but what ajah?" Ariana smiled. "You must not have been here long," she said with a hint of laughter, "since every injured person in the Tower is likely to show up on my doorstep. I'm Yellow Ajah, or I was; I've been Aes Sedai for four years, and I've always wanted to be a Healer, as long as I can remember." Abruptly she did laugh. "Listen to me- I sound as though I'm a hundred." At Elois's questioning look, Ariana added, "I'm twenty-two. Twenty-three this autumn. I've been Dragonsworn for...nearly as long as the White Tower has been broken. I just sort of wandered around, and ended up here." "I have been Aes Sedai for, Light! it's hard to recall, nearly four years. White ajah. But I have only been... Dragonsworn for, well, nearly a year I suppose." "Oh?" Ariana expression was a little confused. "I thought you were only recently brought here." Elois' book dropped out of nerveless fingers. She used the interval while she picked it up to chastise and then compose her self. "Well, I was away for a long period." Fortunately, Ariana seemed intuitive enough not to pry. Ariana sensed the evasion in her words, but decided that if Elois had a past she wished to conceal, she would respect that wish. *Healer's intuition,* she thought wryly. *I swear, I could manage fairly well in Daes Dai'mar when it comes to reading expressions and words.* Besides, her own past of running from Whitecloaks and aggravating her teachers at the Tower wasn't exactly stellar. *Had I not already left it, I'm half-certain the White Tower would have kicked me out; I hadn't bothered to hide my dislike of that power-hungry witch Elaida. Though they may have suffered me and my endless questions and experimenting for my ability at Healing.* She turned her attention back to Elois, who seemed interested, if slightly preoccupied. The genial pause was rent asunder by the shrill screams that arose from outside and below their shared, sole window. As one, they crawled across their respective beds and peered cautiously at the scene below; what looked like a huge toad was just disappearing around the corner of a building, and members of the Black Tower that were caught unawares picked themselves up off the ground. "What on earth?" Ariana muttered. Elois could only manage a burbled shriek.

 Alcinia was nowhere to be found. This in itself wasn't too surprising. The little Mayener was uncanny at not being seen when she didn't want to be found. Eventually Mura'shar gave up and returned to his quarters. He sat wondering what to do next when, as luck would have it, Alcinia knocked on his door "Mura'shar," Alcinia called, "it is Aramis and Alcinia. I, we need to talk with you. It is important." Mura'shar opened the door and let the two in. Both looked troubled as Alcinia told him about what she had discovered. It seemed that Alcinia had already done everything he was going to ask of her already. He now knew a few Soldiers to be wary of. But most disturbing was Talia's behavior. He remembered something Myiona had said earlier: "What if one of the others managed to come here, pretending to be one of our own, like Mera'shar did?" Was Talia really Talia? He never saw how the battle between Talia and her double went. And to all outward appearances she seemed to be herself. He thought it was highly improbable that any of the Others had infiltrated the Black Tower. But lately he'd seen too much strangeness to accept anything at face value anymore. Improbable was not impossible. "I thought you should know because I am afraid things are going to get a lot worse before they get better." Alcinia concluded. "You did the right thing" Mura'shar assured them both. "I've had my own suspicions about some of these Soldiers. Myiona probably does too. I'm worried that she's up to something won't like" But now there's one more thing I'd like you to check out, if you're up to it" He explained the attack on Darran earlier. "Obviously, whoever attacked him was a woman, though she may have male accomplices. I would like you to keep your eyes open for any women who may have a grudge or vendetta against Darran. You mentioned Talia before. If you think she's up to no good, then keep an eye on her. But be careful, whoever the would-be assassin is, she's dangerous. And probably already knows people are after her." He did not mention that he's already told Talia what he knows about the attack. If Talia was innocent, it would do no harm. In the unlikely event that she was, it would do no real good. After thanking them again for their news, Mura'shar let them out, then turned in for the evening. He vowed to keep a sharp eye on the Soldiers and Dedicated, and nip any plot they had in the bud. That night, Mura'shar's dreams were plagued with disturbing images. Myiona again standing trial, but this time the penalty was death. Sneering Asha'man led Myiona to the gallows, while icy Dragonsworn looked on in smug satisfaction. Just before he woke, he saw that the noose was actually a silvery a'dam. Mura'shar awoke with a gasp. It was just a nightmare. Nothing else. But something was wrong. He turned his head, scanning the room. No, everything was in place. It suddenly hit him. He faced the direction Myiona was in. Generally west, but too faint for a more precise estimate. Far too far. Myiona was no longer at the Tower. Throwing on his clothes, Mura'shar set out to discover where she went. Skree would know. And if she didn't, well, Myiona said that aside from him, only Alcinia, Talia, and La'rece had visited her. One of them may know something.
Jake
Marked Asha'man

 The day passed uneventfully. Myiona slept as much as she could because time seemed to drag otherwise. Her ankle was stiff and swollen, but she did not think it was broken. The mud lining the bottom of the well had dried up, leaving the Domani wishing she had tried to get some water from it earlier. No other sounds intruded on her solitude, but she still was afraid that the Seanchan could be nearby. Channeling was out, and that cut out any hope of escaping her prison. She wondered what was going on back at the tower, if anyone had even noticed that she was missing. Of course, La'rece had probably told Mura'shar that she needed some time alone. That meant no one would be looking for her anytime soon. Her flight had played right into the hands of the angry men at the tower. She wondered if they would come back to see her body, or if they expected the Seanchan to get her. Better death than that! It was deep in the night, when she finally decided to try something. She entered the world of dreams, after several attempts and began searching for Mura'shar. Many time she thought she had found him only to have it vanish like the morning mist. She almost gave up thinking the distance was too great for her to manage in her frantic condition. Myiona focused once more and grabbed onto a tiny spark that led her to where he lay in the Black Tower. Her dream image broke into his dreams of battle and madness to impress her need on his mind. "I am not in Arad Doman," Myiona explained, "somewhere else . . . in a well, but I am not sure where. . . . I was ambushed by Asha'men . . . Help!" Her words came out in the scattered thoughts that ran through her subconscious mind. She felt herself fading from the dream and made one last attempt. "Seanchan everywhere, please . . ." Myiona opened her eyes, as a hand wrapped in her hair and yanked her to her feet. "Well Aes Sedai murderer," the figure said, "it is time for your real trial to begin." He tied a rope around her waist and she was dragged upwards, her body scraping against the side of the well over and over again. At the top, a man unwrapped the rope and threw her to the ground. He spat at her, as Myiona looked up through her wild mane of hair. "What . . . do you want from me?" she asked in a meek voice. The man laughed and said that she would find out soon enough. The Domani was jerked to her feet, causing agony in her ankle. She stumbled as the men pulled her through the darkness into a building of some sort. She was forced to her knees in the middle of a barn floor. A group of figures surrounded her, leering and taunting her. Myiona swallowed and closed her eyes against the tears that threatened to rain out like a torrent. "This woman," one said stepping forward, "has admitted to killing two of our brethren. Since justice was not done at the Black Tower, she will meet her fate at our hands. How do you find her?" One by one, each of the men said, "Guilty!" Myiona stared at each of the men as they pronounced their judgment. She had hoped one of them, at least, would show some compassion or lack of certainty. Shaking her head sadly, the Domani hoped for a quick death.
Vicky
aka Myiona

 OOC: Well, it's good to be back. I'm exhausted from all the travel, but I have to admit it's very cool to have actually touched the Great Pyramid, the Acropolis, the Blue Mosque, the Wailing Wall, and to stand in the Cathedral de la Rosa and visit the last five stops of Christ's crucifixion. Very moving. Well, here goes my rentry into events at the Tower ? With a final yank, La'rece pulled on her boot. Having stowed her dresses, the Arafellan was dressed in clothes more suitable for fighting. As the tensions mounted in the Tower, the Blademaster was prepared to deal with the inevitable open conflict that threatened at each turn. Black leather britches and boots would provide the maneuverability she would need in a sword fight. Her deep green blouse provided the only color, its loose sleeves allowing for freedom of movement. Walking over to a wall mirror, the Dragonsworn tied her hair back with a black bow. Pausing to check the three knives sheathed about her, La'rece adjusted the sword belt and scabbard. The heron blade was forever honed to razor sharpness. Though hoping to keep the weapon sheathed, the Blademaster was still prepared to inflict deadly force, if necessary. Leaving the building containing her apartments, La'rece made her way toward Myiona's rooms. She wanted to confirm that Myiona had indeed safely left the Tower. La'rece was concerned for her friend. Events had taken on a sinister quality in the Black Tower and trust was in short supply. If as La'rece suspected there were forces at work trying to destroy the former First and the other Dragonsworn, then departing the Tower simply added to the Myiona's vulnerability. The Arafellan knew her friend was capable of protecting herself in most situations, but evidence seemed to be mounting that the forces of the Dark One were at work in the Tower ?La'rece was convinced that the Tower had been compromised. The Green Sister had no doubt that the suspicion rampant in the Black Tower was the work of darkfriends. *** Looking back over her shoulder, La'rece glanced up at the windows to Myiona's apartments. The Domani had been true to her word and left. *I should have gone with her to help keep her safe. Light!* Walking away from the building, the Arafellan set out to find Mura'shar, Alcinia, and Skree. Each through their connection to Myiona were in danger from those who sought the former First's destruction. With a gleam in her eye and a somewhat wicked grin on her face, La'rece walked on daring the darkfriends to bring it on, whatever they had planned. *Any time, any place!*
Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 After Mura'shar told them about the attack on Darran and asked them to "keep your eyes open for any women who may have a grudge or vendetta against Darran," Alcinia nodded and followed Aramis out of the room. She was worried that things had already gotten too far out of hand. "I need some sleep," she muttered. Alcinia turned and started walking back toward her own room. Alcinia

 Myiona's quarters looked empty form the outside. There was no sign that anyone was inside. Mura'shar certainly Myiona was nowhere nearby. That confirmed his fear. Myiona has left. But the feeling of danger didn't leave. It confused him. Mura'shar had never shown any potential for Foretelling or anything even remotely similar. Yet the idea that Myiona had returned to her home in Arad Domon seemed wrong somehow. Since that nightmare, his thoughts around Myiona were covered with darkness and despair. Was he picking this up through the bond? As he walked along he building, trying to spot Skree and see if she has remained with the Tower, he saw someone else watching the building, watching Myiona's quarters. As La'rece turned away, Mura'shar quickened his step to catch up with her. La'rece! Wait! Do you know what happened to Myiona? Where is she?"
Jake
Marked Asha'man

 As La'rece turned away, Mura'shar quickened his step to catch up with her. "La'rece! Wait! Do you know what happened to Myiona? Where is she?" Turning to look at the man hurrying toward her, La'rece found herself wondering how long Myiona thought she could truly keep Mura'shar from following after her ?no matter how far she ventured. "Mura'shar. Let's walk." "But ? the Asha'man began. "Come. It'll do us both some good ? the Dragonsworn said gently. *and get us away from prying eyes and ears* she added to herself. After walking a fair distance, La'rece stopped and looked at the Asha'man. Just a hint of desperation touched Mura'shar's eyes. It was clear that he knew Myiona had left the Tower. La'rece wondered how specific his sense of her location might be; she had often been amazed at the ability of her own warders to locate her, even over vast distances. "She's gone" the Asha'man stated flatly. "Where?" "I don't know, Mura'shar" La'rece replied kindly. "Truly, I don't know. She felt compelled to leave given the environment that has been created here at the Tower. Suspicion, anger, hate, prejudice ?it's become too much for her. With so many threats against her, I'm sure she became equally concerned about the safety of those she cared for, put in danger because of their loyalty or even proximity to her." "That's ridiculous!" sputtered Mura'shar. "Myiona might be in much more danger out away from where ?from where I can protect her." "You don't think a mere Dragonsworn is capable of protecting herself, Asha'man?!" the Arafellan's eyes twinkled. "No, that's not what I'm suggesting, it's just that ? Mura'shar began. "I know what you mean, Mura'shar. Ignore my words" La'rece said laying a hand on the Asha'man's arm. "I'm irritated at myself for not having joined her to ?help protect her. At the least I should have a guard with her." Sighing, the Dragonsworn looked up at Mura'shar, "I think perhaps we can only wait and see." "Yes ?but ? the Asha'man began. "What?" La'rece asked sensing her friend's bondmate's hesitation. "There's something I sense through the bond, even over the distance ? Mura'shar mused. "Trouble?" the Dragonsworn asked unconsciously grasping the handle of her sword. "I ?I don't know" the Asha'man responded angrily, frustrated with not knowing for certain the situation with Myiona. "I don't know." Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 Mura'shar had n doubts that La'rece was telling him everything she knew concerning Myiona. Still, he found himself doubting that she had gone home. Perhaps it was just the nightmare he had last night, or perhaps something through the bond. Maybe a mixture of the two, the fear of the dream feeding on the bond. He didn't know. He concentrated. Focussing on the bond, he closed his eyes and turned his head towards the direction where Myiona lay. He opened his eyes and faced southwest. But Arad Domon is northeast. Cold dread gripped Mura'shar. Southwest. That direction lay... "Seanchan" he whispered. Could Myiona have been captured by the Seanchan "... Seanchan everywhere..." Where had that thought come from? "Did you say something, Mura'shar?" La'rece asked. She looked at him with more than a hint of worry, no doubt afraid he'd do something foolish. "Myiona is not in Arad Domon" Mura'shar said with certainty. "She is that way, in Amadicia or Tarabon, I think" he pointed in the direction he sensed her "and I think she's in danger" La'rece looked at him, and Mura'shar continued "I don't think she ever made it to Arad Domon. We have to find her!" At that moment, a pair of Soldiers strolled by. Mura'shar recognized them as a pair of hotheads who didn't care much for Dragonsworn. A dark suspicion filled him as they went by, laughing and chatting. "Wait here for a minute. I'll be right back" Mura'shar channeled and Folded Light. He creeped along behind them, saidin enhanced senses listening in on their conversation. What he heard filled him with rage. "A pity we can't be there when they pass sentence on that murderess" one of them said "I want to be there when she begs for mercy." "We couldn't all go" the other said "Some of us have to stay here so the others don't get suspicious, especially Mura'shar" "Well, whatever happens, whatever punishment Nev decides, it will definitely be colorful, creative, and very unpleasant" They both laughed at that. When they separated to go to separate lessons, Mura'shar followed one for a short distance, then struck, shielding and gagging him. He dragged the Soldier back to La'rece, who was waiting impatiently. "Mura'shar, what are you doing? I know you're worried about Myiona, but that's no reason to go sneaking about stalking Soldiers. Like they are to blame!" "But I think some of them are to blame "Mura'shar replied. "I heard this one talking about her to a friend of his. Now he's going to talk to us, aren't you" he gave the soldier a nasty grin. The Soldier talked. Myiona was being held for a "trial" in a small abandoned farm outside of Tanchico one of the Soldiers knew about. He told everything he knew about who was involved and why. When he was done, Mura'shar had the Soldier open a gateway and tie it off. After checking to make sure there were no traps and it was securely tied, he turned a face red with rag to La'rece "Get help. Find Darren, Darran, Tareena, Alcinia, anyone you can. Bring them here, the gateway should still be here" "You shouldn't go alone" La'rece protested. "You're outnumbered and in a strange territory We should go together" "We can't be sure there are just Soldiers out there, there may be Seanchan as well, we need reinforcements. "Then come with me. It's stupid to go out there on your own. You'll just get yourself killed" "Don't worry about me. I'll be careful. Now I have to go before anything terrible happens to Myiona" With that, he tied off the weaves on the Soldier and leaped through the gateway.
Jake
Marked Asha'man

 The barn was deathly silent as Myiona dropped her head in resignation. She knew there was no way anyone would get to her in time to prevent these rogue asha'men from carrying out their sentence unless she could stall. "Do I have the right to speak on my own behalf?" she asked meekly. "It seems fair that I be given an opportunity to state my side of the incident, after all none of you were there." The men argued for a few minutes among themselves. Some warning of "Aes Sedai trickery" and others insisting that she be given a chance to speak and "possibly implicate others." One even suggested there might be other "Dragonsworn at the Tower who were accomplices" and that they should be "dealt with as well." Finally, the leader spoke, "You may tell us what happened, but we have already decided that you are guilty. Nothing will change that. All you are doing is giving yourself a few extra minutes." Myiona nodded sadly and pushed the matted hair back from her face. She knew that she had to make them want to keep her alive, to find out more information. She was going to have to come very close to lying and that was distasteful to her. She began with when she left the White Tower, during the rebellion, and spoke carefully leaving the implication that it was on orders of the Red Ajah. She did not directly mention and names or specific instructions, but stated that it seemed now that she had been allowed to run for reasons unknown. "Once I was established at the Black Tower," she said, "it was easy to establish myself as a sympathizer to male channelers. My Domani heritage and ability to make men like me was very useful in becoming an integral part of one of the Storm Teams." "I know now," Myiona said, "that there are others at the Tower who have been given special missions. We never met, so I do not know who they are, but I . . ." The sound of horses approaching, broke through her speech. "Quiet," one of the men said putting his hand over her mouth. Then he half carried her through the barn and into a dark corner. The others scattered throughout the structure, hiding where they could find shadows. The horses stopped outside and the sound of voices carried through the night air. "We have already checked this building," a man explained. "Nothing will be gained from looking in it again. I don't care what you were ordered to do. This farm has been vacant for several months. I am not going to waste time chasing every rabbit that moves across the ground." After the soldiers rode off, Myiona breathed a sigh of relief. She would rather die than be given back to the Seanchan. The men gathered in the dark corner where she slumped to discuss what to do next. "It is too dangerous to stay here much longer," one said. "We need to decided on punishment and enforce it." Others argued for finding out more about the White Tower plot. "I can find out what you want to know," one of the men said. "The rest of you will not have to deal with the unpleasantness if you are squeamish. She will tell me everything she knows and more." One of the men laughed and yanked on Myiona's hair. "She's all yours Nev," he said. "Don't kill her, yet. I would like to have some fun with the witch." Finally, Myiona was left alone with Nev. She knew he intended to torture her for information and wondered how much she could stand before it killed her. He was quick to act, pulling his arm back and punching her in the face. Myiona hit the ground hard, her head slamming into it with a dull "thunk." She could feel his hands wrapping in her hair, pulling her back into a sitting position again. "I hope you hold out a long time," he said with a sneer. "What you don't remember is that I used to work for your family. You caught me stealing and I was thrashed until I bled. Then sent out to face the world alone. I was lucky I learned I could channel. It gave me another weapon. Now, getting even with you will finally make things right." His hand flew out again, open this time, slapping her hard. Knocking the Domani down to the ground again. She gritted her teeth as he pulled her back up again. "It was so easy to set you up too," he laughed. "Those two fools played right into my hands and no one knows I was the one who started the whole thing. I was even there in the bushes making sure they died. I helped your little weave along a bit, adding saidin to it. It was perfect, except for that fool Stevan. He should have punished you like you deserved. Things are a real mess at the tower now. Just the kind of opening those I work for were waiting for. They will all serve the Dark Lord soon." He raised his hand to hit her again, and Myiona closed her eyes waiting for it to make contact. She heard a gasp and then a thump . . .
Vicky
aka Myiona

 Mura'shar didn't even try stealth. The Soldier didn't know when exactly this little"trial" was going to take place. Only that it was today. They could be executing her right now! Mura'shar picked up the pace. Myiona was near, and in pain. Soon he came upon the abandoned farm. He only had to stop one Soldier who blundered into him. He was left gagged, bound and shielded with the tightest knots Mura'shar could manage. Sloppy discipline. He'll have to work on that in the lessons. Myiona was being held in the old well, if his information was accurate. She wasn't there. That left the house or barn. Mura'shar tried the barn first. He knew he chose right when he heard the sounds of flesh striking flesh There were voices too, or rather a voice. He was gloating "... Things are a real mess at the tower now. Just the kind of opening those I work for were waiting for. They will all serve the Dark Lord soon." So, Talia was right after all. Myiona was being hounded by Darkfriends. That made things all the easier. Mura'shar drew as much saidin as he could and kicked open the door. Myiona lay bruised and bloody on the ground. The Soldier Nev prepared to strike her again. He turned to Mura'shar and gasped. He frantically clawed for saidin. Mura'shar never gave him a chance. A hammer of air drove Nev to the ground. Before he could get to his feet again, Mura'shar, bound him in air and lifted him off the ground. The image of Myiona's still form still burned in his mind. He began spinning Nev about in midair faster and faster... He heard Myiona cry out "Mura'shar! No!" Just before the man slammed against the wall and kept going. The wall burst outward at the force of the blow and the lifeless body of Nev fell to the ground, directly in front of La'rece and the rescue party she had brought.
Jake
Marked Asha'man

 When the first blow hit, Myiona was stunned. She hit the ground hard and the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth from where she bit through her lip. She felt Nev's hand grab her hair as he yanked her back up. The second time he hit her, she could feel the blood begin pouring out of her nose. She saw the dirt flying up to meet her and closed her eyes to blot out the sickening sensation of falling. As he grabbed her and pulled her up again, the Domani felt some of her hair ripped out. She was crying now, hoping the pain would stop soon. Nev began talking about the Dark One and the Black Tower. She closed her eyes letting the words buffer her from the pain she was feeling. He had done it all. The crazy darkfriend had killed those two soldiers. It wasn't all her fault. The relief she felt was short lived as he lifted his hand to hit her again. Myiona waited for the next blow to fall, with her eyes closed and her body prepared for the pain. The sound of a gasp and a thump barely registered on her mind. She still sat waiting silently. The moment slipped by and she opened her eyes to see Nev flying through the air. Mura'shar stood a few feet away, his face twisted in anger. "Mura'shar! No!" she screamed hoping to stop the inevitable from happening. He was her only way out of the situation at the Tower and he was going to die, leaving her to take the blame forever. Nev's body hit the wall, crashing outward to land on the ground in front of a group of people. She pulled herself to her feet and staggered over to where Mura'shar stood, glaring down at the unmoving body of the man who had hurt her. "Please," Myiona said grabbing his arm, "don't do this. It won't help. I am okay, Mura'shar." She could see the conflicting emotions battling across his face. He wanted to punish the one who had hurt her. Myiona stepped between him and Nev. She looked up into his eyes and made him look at her. "It isn't worth it," she said. "Please . . . Listen to me. You are better than this. You are a good man, an honorable man. You don't have to hurt him anymore. Let the Tower deal out his punishment. Please!" Myiona felt the tears pouring down her face, mixing with the blood and dirt there. She knew she was a mess, but it didn't matter. She put her arms around her bondmate and turned him away from the broken body of the darkfriend. "I want to go home," she whispered. "Take me back to the Tower." The Domani winced as she put her weight upon her ankle. It was swollen and sore from the fall she took in the well. Her knees were wobbly and she was sure she would fall at any moment. Myiona looked over at the people standing over the body of Nev. She recognized La'rece and . . . Tareena? That was the last person she expected to see. As she stepped down hard on her ankle, the pain was too much, and the Dragonsworn passed out.
Vicky
aka Myiona

 As the man's body came to rest a pace in front of her mount, La'rece glanced at it with an indifferent eye. Mura'shar made his way across the fallen wall toward the small party. Seeing Myiona not far behind the Asha'man, La'rece smiled. They had made it in time. *But where are the rest of the scum?* the Dragonsworn mused. Mura'shar's attention was focused on the body lying broken on the ground. With sheer hate in his eyes, the Asha'man advanced toward the darkfriend. Catching up to her bondmate, Myiona grabbed his arm. "Please, don't do this. It won't help." Turning him to look at her, she added, "I am okay, Mura'shar." Looking into his bondmate's eyes, Mura'shar paused in his endeavor to obliterate the man who had abused Myiona so terribly. Across his face, Myiona could see the emotions battling. Stepping between Mura'shar and the body of the darkfriend Nev, Myiona looked up at the Asha'man silently commanding that he meet her eyes. "It isn't worth it. Please ?listen to me. You are better than this. You are a good man, an honorable man. You don't have to hurt him anymore." With a sigh, Myiona added, Let the Tower deal out his punishment. Please!" With tears pouring down her face, mixing with the blood and dirt already there, Myiona hugged Mura'shar tightly, turning him away from the body of the darkfriend. "I want to go home," she whispered. "Take me back to the Tower." Looking down at her, Mura'shar merely nodded. "Well, it appears we weren't needed after all" La'rece jested after a few moments of silence. "The others?" La'rece asked Mura'shar. "I'm glad your all here" Mura'shar replied with a wicked glint in his eye. "Perhaps you may have time to do a little ?hunting." "Pigs, perhaps? Gone wild" the Arafellan grinned. Gazing down at Myiona, Mura'shar asked, "How many? Do you recall?" "I'm ?I'm not sure ?please, I just want to return to the Tower for now" Myiona sighed. La'rece understanding her friend's desire to return, nodded. Mura'shar held Myiona tight. A hand on her shoulder made the Domani look up. Shock and surprise painted Myiona's face as Tareena stood next to her, offering her a cloak. "You'll catch a chill, Myiona. Take this ?please" Tareena said. Hesitantly, Myiona smiled and allowed Tareena to wrap the cloak around her shoulders. "Thank you" Myiona said quickly clutching Tareena's hand. Still not certain how they would proceed from this point forward, Tareena nodded at the Dragonsworn. As the group prepared to depart, La'rece made a quick circuit of the farm. Utilizing the small angreal in her possession, the Dragonsworn channeled setting in place an imperceptible ward that would not cause harm, but would leave an identifiable trace on any individual who crossed its barrier. Galloping back to the group, La'rece shared her ploy with Mura'shar.
Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 In the midst of the previously abandoned Portal Stone, the air reverberated with a resounding hum. The light shimmered around the Stone and flickered with increasing intensity. When the noise and the light died down, there was something there that wasn't there a moment before. Upon closer examination, one would see that it wasn't an object that shivered in the dark... It was a person. A woman to be exact. The woman's usally shortly cropped hair was a few inches longer than she'd like. She was wearing the demoralizing dress of a Domani entertainer, yet her features were most definitely Saldaean. Her eyes lifted to the night sky.. to the moon. Everything, at last, felt so right.. except for the still distant feeling of her bondmate. At least he was alive. She would never forgive herself were he to be harmed by her wicked duplicate. This was all her doing. Everything that had happened. Talia Daimar knew it for a fact. She would make Taria beg for mercy. It was she who trapped her in the Portal Stone world of the Dark Tower. It was she who suggested that Mera'shar and Myiona be her 'masters.' Talia shivered at the memory of Mera'shar and his sick sense of humor. The Domani dress she was wearing was only a mild example of it. She was glad she escaped before he made her do the sa'sara. Talia faced the direction in which she somehow knew was the Black Tower. (~Here I come, Taria. I hope you were in really good standing with the Dark One, cuz you're about to join him.~)
~Talia Daimar
~Back In Business Dragonsworn
<><

 "I want to go home," she whispered.  "Take me back to the
Tower."

    Mura'shar felt his rage slowly ebb.  He let Myiona turn him away
from the
broken body laying on the ground Light, he's still breathing!  At this
moment, he could deny his bondmate nothing.  If she wanted to spare
this
piece of filth's life, he would do so, however reluctantly.
    Myiona tried leading him towards the crowd of Asha'man and
Dragonsworn
that had followed.  She gasped in surprise when she saw Tareena among
them.
The gasp quickly became on of pain.  Mura'shar felt a sympathetic stab
of
pain in his ankle.  Myiona's ankle was surely sprained, perhaps badly.
    He caught her before she could collapse.  The pain was too much.
She had
fainted.  Mura'shar gently held her in his arms, wary of her other
bruises
and cuts.
    "Well, it appears we weren't needed after all" La'rece chided when
t
became clear there was no longer an immediate threat "The others?"
    "I'm glad your all here" Mura'shar replied with a wicked glint in
his
eye.  "Perhaps you may have time to do a little ?hunting.
"Pigs, perhaps?  Gone wild"
    La'rece returned his grin with a predatory one of her own.  Myiona
was
recovering from her faint, and Mura'shar gently asked her "How many?
Do you
recall?"
    Still disoriented, Myiona could only say "I'm ?I'm not sure ?
please, I
just want to return to the Tower for now"
    La'rece nodded in understanding.  Mura'shar gently set her down,
letting
her lean on him to support the weight her injured ankle couldn't hold,
ready
to catch her if she should fall.
    TO everyone;s surprise, Tareena stood on Myiona;s other side,
offering
her a cloak "You'll catch a chill, Myiona.  Take this ?please"
    Mura'shar caught his breath.  The enmity between the two
Dragonsworn
seemed insurmountable.  Yet Tareena came with the rescue party, offered
Myiona her cloak. And Myiona was thanking her!  He hoped this boded
well for
the Tower.
    The member of the tower split into two groups.  One would escort
Mura'shar, Myiona, Nev, and the one other Soldier Mura'shar had
captured back
to the Black Tower.  The rest would remain for the "hunt" It was a pity
Mura'shar couldn't stay, but Myiona needed him now, and Mura'shar had
no
intention of letting her out of his sight until every Soldier
responsible for
this barbaric act was brought to justice.
    As they prepared to leave, La'rece drew Mura'shar aside and told
him her
plan.  She had used the One Power to ward the farm in such a way that
she
could track anyone who passed through the barrier.  A clever trick.
They had
to return eventually, to find out how the "questioning" was going.
    "Good work" Mura'shar approved.  "But be careful.  There are
Seanchan
everywhere" he glanced at Myiona as that particular choice of phrase
popped
out of his mouth "...anyway, this is Seanchan territory.  Don't be so
eager
to track the boar that you run into a bear"
    La'rece gave her assurance that the utmost care would be taken to
track
the Soldiers "Good hunting, then" he told her "Bring back lots of
trophies.
I would like one or two heads to stuff and mount on a wall in my
quarters"
They shared a wicked grin as La'rece galloped off.
    As they opened a gateaway, teh prisoners were secured for transport
on a
pair of litters.  Mura'shar put an arms around Myiona and kissed her.
    "Don't worry.  We'll have you Healed and rested up in time" She
gave him
an odd look.
    "In time for what?  She asked him.
    "Why, for dinner tonight.  Don't you remember?  You certainly can't
dance
until that ankle's had a chance to recover!  After today..." he shot a
venomous glance at Nev "...we've both earned it.  You more so than I"

Jake
Marked Asha'man

 Rengar was in the building with a few of the other members of the Black Tower, all of them anxious glancing out the door every once in a while to see if the members of that other Tower had found them yet. The good news seemed to be that they hadn't, yet. The bad news, though, was that there weren't that many members of the Black Tower assembled at the moment. Which meant that this would be the perfect opportunity for their enemies to strike. Rengar just wanted to get out of this city. He had gotten much more than he had bargained for here, and for some reason this mission seemed to be dragging on longer than any other one he could remember. Perhaps it was because the enemies they faced here weren't some brainless Shadowspawn, which could be easily defeated using the One Power. But these new opponents also had that power, and most of them knew how to use it as well if not better than their counterparts. Well, at least that Dengar fellow isn't anywhere in site, Rengar thought to himself. Not that he worried about the man too much; he wasn't that powerful in actuality, and chances were that he wouldn't want to face Rengar head on if he was around. Rengar's main concern now, however, wasn't Dengar or even the battle just about to take place. Rather, it was the whereabouts of his bondmate, Odessa. He hadn't seen her in quite some time, and needless to say, he was starting to get just a little worried. But he had to stop worrying about her at the moment. He could still sense her in his mind, so it wasn't as if she had died here. Still, the subject of death at this particular time did not seem to Rengar like the best thing to be thinking at the moment. The battle began not to long after this last thought. The ensuing action was both intense and surreal; Rengar had never seen a display of the One Power in quite the same way before. Unfortunately, all of the screams and explosions soon brought Rengar out of this sem-trance, and he concentrated on launching counter-strikes against the enemy. However, it was very hard indeed to tell who was friend and who was foe. He could tell some apart because of the clothing they were wearing, and some members of the Tower did not look very much very much like their counterparts at all. There were a few times where Rengar found himself pausing a few times because of the similarities between some people, but he decided that it was better to do something, even it he killed one of the members of his own Tower. In most cases, though, he tried not to go for the kill, favoring instead to do something that would incapacitate or cause injury. The battle had to have been raging for at least an hour or so when fate dealt Rengar a very bad hand, however. After using Water and Earth to catch someone, a woman, in a knee deep pool of mud, Rengar charged at her with the butt of his sword, in an attempt to knock her unconscious. But Rengar had counted on what happened next. The woman threw her hands out towards him, and it was too late by the time Rengar realized that she was channeling. Rengar could here a rumbling sound from behind and above himself, and before he knew what was happening part of one of the building in the city was falling down on him, trapping him, for the second time in this mission, in a world of complete darkness.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ---------------------------------------------- Does Rengar survive this terrible incident? Or will I just create another character to role-play with from now on? I know, that sounds incredibly cheesy, but I couldn't help myself, after hearing everyone venting their frustration about Mat on the Theories board and such. I do promise, however, that I will not take four years to bring Rengar back, or start a new character. It will probably happen within the next few days, actually.
Kyle

 Darren idly looked out the window without seeing anything, waiting until Tareena had washed and changed. He needed the time to think. {{I know I haven't been totally behind Tareena lately, but that is only because of the undesirables who have also lined up behind her, not because of her herself or her position. Well, that isn't exactly true. At first I didn't listen carefully, I merely heard her accusing without seeing the reasons. And so I stood with her without heart, or rather only with the conviction that... why was I there? With things as they were, I had no reason to be there... except to be there for her regardless. Though, not being able to see my way to supporting her, I could not help her. She could see my distancing myself from her actions even as I stood with her. Small wonder then that she wished to be alone. She could not see exactly who I was, that it was that... no. I... not only can I not blame her, I must blame myself, in much the way the tower has blamed Myiona. I did not clear up a confusion. I stood with her and let my support fade rather than asking and becoming familiar with it, and I did not have the courage to say 'no' to her even though if I had she would have in the end convinced me she was right. No one died in this, at least.}} Darren looked up and realized Tareena was there, looking out the window with him. He was vaguely aware that they had already spoken a casual greeting, neither one truly present to it, enwrapped in their own thoughts. He started by touching her hand to get her real attention. She looked up, immediately there. He said, "I'm sorry. First, I'm sorry I never listened to you carefully enough to realize that you were right about Myiona. Second, I'm sorry I didn't admit that it was affecting me. If I had said what bothered me, even if what you said didn't convince me, you would have known what was wrong, and there would be no doubt about us." Tears slipped unbidden from her eyes, tracing a path full of pain along her cheeks. All her life she had questioned herself. Her judgment, her thoughts, her visions. Since coming to the tower, she had learned to trust herself, mainly due to the people's support around her. To have had Darren withdrawal his at one of the most crucial times in her life, had almost withered her self-confidence. Yet, she had fought on, knowing what she stood for was right, regardless of the consequences. Pride she didn't know she possessed reared its head. Angrily she dashed the tears from her face and turned towards him, anger flashing in her eyes and in her heart. "How easy it is for you to stand there now and say you are sorry. Of course you are sorry. You listened to the arguments in the trial. You have seen first hand the attitude of the other Ashaman. You have dealt with the hatred of the Dragonsworn and fought bravely against this attitude. I admire you for that, for some do not have the guts to do this. Now you stand there and say yes Tareena, you were right. Well, I say, no thank you, it isn't good enough. I tried to explain the situation to you in Rhuidean, I trusted you, valued your input and opinion. You didn't offer any of those. You placated me. I needed you to believe me but as usual, you didn't trust me. You couldn't accept my perspective, believe in what I was saying. I am grateful that the Dragonsworn have a champion in men like you and Mura'shar and Aramis. I know that you will make choices that are for the sake of everyone, not just yourselves. What I didn't know is if you would stand up for me." Tareena glared up at Darren, the full extent of her hurt and anger roiling over them. "Unfortunately, that question has been answered." Tareena delivered her last words with outward conviction but inwardly, she was shrinking inside. She needed to rage, to scream, to cry. When will the sacrifices be over? When does the happily ever after show itself? She had lost her best friend to her convictions and now she was losing her bondmate. The Black Tower had been her salvation and yet now, it felt only like an albatross, wrapped tightly around her neck and pulling her downward towards the depths of despair. Death, destruction swirled around their lives and yet she was still expected to be strong and make decisions for not only herself but for everyone else. When would it end? Tareena turned away and walked slowly across the room to her four poster bed, resting her cheek against one of the posts. Slowly her emotions cooled. She felt tired, spent, as if she had ran miles and miles. A sigh escaped her lips and she closed her eyes against the sudden sharp pain in her heart. "Go Darren, just go please" she whispered. Darren replied in an equally soft tone. "I am afraid I can't do that. I was foolish enough to let you drive me away yesterday. I won't let you do it again." "Please..." Darren approached her. "Why? So you can... close up, and live believing that no one loves you?" Tareena couldn't reply to that for a moment. Darren took the opportunity to pull her against himself. She did not resist at all, but did not reach around him. After some time he felt tears on his chest. Darren began rocking ever-so-lightly. A few seconds later, Tareena held him as well. He knew not how long they stood this way. **** somewhat more recently: Darran blinked and sat up. He was still alive. He looked around through the small wood. Erin was munching happily on something she had caught. Aside from that, there were no signs of anyone having found him. {{I got a bad feeling about going with them on that rescue mission, but now I have a worse feeling about having hidden. I am alone. Even being surrounded by possible traitors under combat circumstances is safer than this. Another draghkar could do me in easily}} Darran rolled to his feet and got ready to head back to the Tower.
Luke

 Preparations made, the trap set, the small party waited. Wards around the farm and the building that had held Myiona would signal La'rece immediately upon the return of the Asha'man. La'rece sincerely hoped that the Seanchan did not arrive before their true quarry. The threat of Seanchan presence was a real one. It did not take long. Three shrill chirps told the group that their prey had arrived. Almost as one Myiona's captors returned to the farm, presumably to enjoy their prisoner's final moments. La'rece had other plans for them. With Tareena, Alcinia, Darren and Darran, the Dragonsworn set up a perimeter around the building. Through a joint effort, the small group put in place weaves of spirit touched with earth, fire and water. Clutching her angreal, La'rece smiled as the Asha'man exited the building in search of their missing comrade and prisoner. As each man emerged, the weaves set in place by the party shielded each man and rendered him unconscious. The Arafellan's hands itched to unsheath her sword. It would be a quick solution to part of a much larger problem. The key to what had gone down with Myiona and the accusations against her were directly tied to this group somehow. Meeting Tareena's eyes, La'rece nodded and together they gathered up their "prisoners" and transported them back to the Tower. Last to enter the Gateway back to the Tower, La'rece turned back to see a double column of armed men with insect-like helmets charging toward the spot where she stood. At the regiment's front rode four women in grey, two with collars about their neck. The Arafellan knew perfectly well what those women were. Spurring her mount forward, La'rece rode through the Gateway to join the others watching the approach of the column as the opening slid shut. "Timing is everything" the Dragonsworn said with a grin causing the others to roll their eyes. "Let's get these men to Mura'shar and Stevan for questioning" Tareena instructed. Her delicate features seemed a bit paler. Not surprising after their close encounter with the Seanchan force. Lauren La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 Alcinia had been surprised when La'rece began gathering people up for a rescue party.  "It is Myiona, isn't it?" the thief asked.  "I knew something like this was going to happen, but no one listened to me."
She tried looking for her bondmate, but the group was leaving.  "Light!" she muttered jumping on a horse and following the rest.  If there was going to be a rescue, she intended to be in on it.
A horse came galloping up through the darkness joining them just as they left, and she was not surprised to see Aramis sitting there.  "Joining in on the fun?" she asked with a gleam in her eyes.
At first, it seemed the large group had not been necessary, but they found out that the others were on the farm somewhere.  Alcinia was happy to be able to deal with the trouble makers.
The narrow escape from the Seanchan channelers gave the thief a few uneasy moments, but when it was over, she shared a grin with La'rece.  Living on the edge had always been her style and she didn't intend to change now.

Alcinia

 Slowly, ever so slowly, the rock of resentment and anger which had taken up a life of its own in the pit of her stomach was dissolving.  As Darren rocked her, the warmth of his security flowed into her, a healing balm soothing her pain.  At some point they moved from standing to sitting on the floor, Tareena snuggling up against his chest, with her head underneath his chin. Suddenly a knock resounded through the quiet bed chamber, shattering the silence like a shotgun blast.  Hastily, Tareena rose to her feet and went to answer the door.  A Novitiate standing there informed Tareena that her presence was requested by La'rece and she needed to come immediately.  Tareena dismissed her and then turned to Darren.  She wanted nothing more than to melt again into his arms but duty called and she must answer.
    "Should I come with you?"  he asked, uncertainty still playing around the edges.  She moved over to him, looking deep into his eyes.  "From now on, I want you to go where I go and I want to be with you.  No more separations, no more being without one another's protection.  We are bondmates.  Let's start acting that way."  Darren simply nodded and followed her out the door.
   Lar'ece briefly outlined to all of those present what had happened with Myiona and where they were going.  Tareena felt her gut tighten when the Seanchan were mentioned.  It was always dangerous going into the unknown but doubly so for women around the Seanchan.  Myiona had found that out when they both had been captured together..many, many months ago. That had turned out okay.  Regardless of their recent trouble, Tareena fervently hoped that this trip would end in their favor as well.
     They moved silently and stealthily through the night and up to the barn.  Watching the scene play itself out right in front of her eyes, for one moment she thought Mura'shar was going to snap and kill the Ashaman.  It took all the control she had not to step in and relief flooded through her when Myiona took care of it and pulled him off.  Everyone was standing around, uncertainty showing on their faces. Tareena heard Myiona begging to just go home.  She understood that need. Not sure of her reception but seeing that Myiona was trembling, she touched her shoulder and offered her her cloak.  The surprise and flash of warmth was enough to give Tareena a ray of hope...that maybe they could work things out.  First things first.
    The group split up, some returning to the tower, others remaining behind to deal with the Ashaman.  La'rece and Mura'shar had come up with a plan of action and Tareena was eager to carry it out.  When the rogue Ashaman were captured, for one awful moment, Tareena thought that the group would go overboard.  She caught Lar'ece's eye and made her feelings very plain with her stare.  She could see the Dragonsworn sigh but she gave the order to transport the prisoners back to the tower.  Tareena had a feeling that if it had been up to her, they would have met with an untimely death before they reached the tower.
    Tareena stepped through the gateway, issuing orders about the prisoners.  She turned just as Lar'ece made her entry and then stood frozen as she saw what had followed her into the clearing.  It was always terrorizing, no matter how much time had passed, to see the Sul'dams with their silvery leashes.  Her hand rose involuntarily to her own throat, feeling the absence of her own collar.  As the gateway closed, Lar'ece turned with a wry grin drolly stated "Timing is everything."  The others rolled their eyes and some groaned but Tareena stood there, willing the blood to return to her face and the terror to subside.  Darren moved up next to her, breaking the paralysis.  He took her hand and gently led her through the tower and up to her apartments.
     She could feel his worried frown following her as she moved throughout her rooms, getting ready for bed.  She knew he must have felt her terror threw the bond.  She knew that he understood for she had shared some of her most intimate nightmares with him.  Yet, she still felt ashamed, somewhere deep inside and she wanted to pull the overs up over her head and hide.  Darren moved towards the door, mumbling something about goodnight and he would see her tomorrow.  She watched him walk away from her bed, feeling herself pulling away from him, inside of herself.  then she stopped and remembered her words to him, what seemed like days ago but were really only hours.  "Stay with me" she whispered, stretching her hand out towards him.  "Please?"  Darren turned and stared at her, minutes, heartbeats, eons.    Silently he moved back toward the bed, discarding his swords and outer garments.  He slid into bed with her, pulling her once more into the strong embrace of his arms.  Tareena fell asleep wrapped in the security of his embrace, knowing that she had made the right choice by asking him to stay.

Lisa ~ Tareena De'Havilan
Guardian of the Black Tower
Bondmate of Darren Sadke

 Mura'shar had found her and saved her.  Her friends had come with him,
lending their support as well.  Even Tareena, who Myiona thought had turned
on her, had shown up to help and offered her own cloak to the Domani.

     She pulled the cloak tighter around her shivering body as they prepared
to step through the gateway.  Mura'shar put his arms around Myiona and
kissed her.  "Don't worry," he said.  "We'll have you Healed and rested up
in time"

     "In time for what?"  she asked trying to remember if something was
going on that she had forgotten about.

    "Why, for dinner tonight," Mura'shar replied with a smile.  "Don't you
remember?  You certainly can't dance until that ankle's had a chance to
recover!  After today we've both earned it.  You more so than I."

     "After everything that has happened," the Domani said, "I forgot about
the dinner date.  I doubt you would want to take me anywhere looking like
this.  I am sure I will feel better after a hot bath, but maybe it would be
good if someone looked at my ankle before I go anywhere."

     Myiona felt glad to be back at the tower, but fear nagged at the back
of her mind.  She knew there were others who felt the same way about her as
the ones who kidnapped her.  What if they came after her again?  Next time
she might not be so lucky.  How could she ever feel safe again?

     Mura'shar walked slowly beside her, letting the Dragonsworn lean upon
him.  Skree was sitting by the door and her face lit up when she saw Myiona.
  She scurried off to have the hot water brought to the Domani's room.

     The bathwater was brought quickly and the tub was filled before she had
a chance to undress.  She quickly slipped out of the ruined dress and into
the tub, wincing as her weight settled upon the injured ankle.

    After soaking in the tub for awhile and scrubbing the dirt from her
skin, Myiona felt a lot better.  She was shocked at her appearance in the
mirror.  Her nose was swollen and one of her eyes was sporting the beginning
of a nice bruise.  "I refuse to go anywhere looking like this," she
muttered.

Vicky
aka Myiona
in need of healing (hint, hint)

 Just in case their was any question,  I am coming out publicly in favor of  Jake.  He deserves his shot at being M'hael.  He is an excellent RP'r, open minded and has the best interest of the tower at heart.  I am looking forward to continuing to write with him.  Steve has fulfilled his responsibility as M'Hael to the best of his ability and for this we thank him :)   GO JAKE!!

Lisa ~Tareena De'Havilan
Guardian of the Black Tower

 Ariana looked up from her book as her roommate walked in.  A treatise on
   various theories about the Aes Sedai's method of Healing, she found it
   fascinating, but the wind was whisking by the window and for some reason
 she
   couldn't concentrate.  "Elois," she called, getting to her feet.  The
 other
   looked up in surprise.  Ariana had a most un-Aes-Sedai-like grin on her
 not
   yet ageless face; she looked ten years younger.  "Come on, let's go do
   something.  You need to get out- and so do I."
        Elois started at the look of mischief that overcame Ariana's face. It
  always interested her that most Aes Sedai had a quite human facet to their
  personality, but didn't choose to show it to non-chanellers. Her first
  instinct was to turn down the invitation, but she thought better of it. She
  didn't feel up to going out, but knew it would be better for her.
         "Alright, I'm game. But...where should we go?" the Amadician asked,
  setting down on her bed the bouquet of Lady's Breath she'd idly gathered.
       Ariana considered.  She really had no idea where to go, but there had to be
 something that would get Elois out of the Tower for a little while.  *At
 least she didn't reject the idea out of hand,* the Healer thought wryly.
 *She looked like she would, for a minute there.*  "Well, maybe we should go
 into the city and see if there's any substance to that rumor of Whitecloaks.
 And I want to find out about another rumor, too, some kind of fever I've not
 heard of before.  And just look around, enjoy a little while out of the
 Tower, away from all this tension."  Seeing the flowers, she smiled, and
 grabbed a glass from her desk where it sat next to her little Dragon
 ter'angreal and filled it with water from a pitcher before handing it to
 Elois.  "What do you think?  Anything you can think of to do?"
     The White sister smiled at the makeshift vase, having a passsion for flowers. "I should probably reconstruct my wardrobe after my..vacation." No, she definitely should. "I suppose we should go into Caemlyn, then."

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

       Elois' clothes would be ready in a matter of days, the dressmaker was very good. They had not seen any Whitecloaks, but that didn't mean the bloodsuckers weren't around. "We should go to an inn, and see if there is any news regarding Whitecloaks or this fever of yours. Though, truthfully," Elois added dryly, "I've seen my fill of Whitecloaks for a lifetime."
         In companionable silence, they walked for a bit, before finally coming to the door of a somewhat respectable looking tavern/inn named The Goose Feather - "Who comes up with these names?" Ariana muttered - and entered the common room.
         There was the usual bustle of early evening business, the smells, the noise, the heat. Chaos, and Elois didn't like chaos. She was too busy frowning at the usual host of cocky guardsmen who didn't have manners enough not to stare, that she didn't notice what immediately caught Ariana's attention..until the Yellow pinched her arm subtly.
      "Look!" she hissed. Elois did. In the table situated farthest from the melee in the room sat two women, one frosty in her pride and the other petulant and plump and both unmistakably Aes Sedai.
       "No Warders," Elois mused. She couldn't conceive of what would cause a Warder to leave his Aes Sedai ungaurded in a room like this, with Whitecloaks rumored to be around, so logically one would assume they were Red Ajah. "Red?" she asked tersely.
        "It's possible," Ariana breathed.
         "Should we go?" Elois asked, turning even as she did. But it was too late. They were spotted.

 Darran made it back in time for the early morning training of those who
were new to chanelling. Erin  drew a hundred frightened faces, but as he
gaily waved to them, the fear slowly left astonishment in its place, before
that was interrupted by the Asha'man in charge of them.
  {{The new ones I do not need to worry about - not only because they are
inexperienced, but because my assassins would probably not rely on them}}
  He rode Erin right up to the power-built housing Darren and he shared,
told her to stay, and ran upstairs to his rooms. Knock - nothing. Again?
Nothing. Listening carefully, he snooped a little. Even with power aid, he
could not hear anything. {{perhaps he was injured in last night's rescue? I
doubt it. Perhaps...}}
  Darran headed across to the drgaonsworn apartments. A teenage novitiate
startled at the grolm as she opened the door, but Darran assured her Erin
was safe, and left the two introducing themselves to each other {Good thing
I trained Erin out of her natural introduction habits}}.
  A minute later, he had heard a low conversation between his counterpart
and Tareena. After a few sentences, Darran smiled and decided to let them
be.
  {{I wonder. There they are. I had rather hoped that if he wasn't
interested in her, I could... but, not really. She is so clearly not the
same woman, it would almost be sacrilege. But I can wish her this
happiness. Well, I can wish her this happiness because - let's be honest -
it blunts my jealousy. Now what? That weaponsmith guy whatever his name was
asked me what I had worth living for. And I said settling down, making new
possibilities... hmm. Freedom. Chances to make a fool of myself again. Why
wait?}}
  Darran leapt down the stairs as quickly as was safe, and smiled winningly
to the novitiate.
  She sort of smiled back. "She's... not as bad as she looks. Though
somewhat asymmetric, here."
  She pointed to a swelling bruise that Darran wouldn't have recognized as
such had he not known Erin as well as he knew himself. She had gotten it by
being thrown against the wall by a trap set by traitors. That brought his
fantasies up somewhat short. {{I remember now. I told the weaponsmith I
would win tarmon gai'don, THEN settle down. There are good reasons for
that.}}
  Darran curtly explained where the bruise had come from; the novitiate
recoiled, said her good-byes somewhat faster than might have been strictly
proper, and hurried to be elsewhere, wherever that was going to be. He
couldn't help but be somewhat saddened, and appended to his previous
thought, {{Break the seals, unfamiliar dragon, whose name I forget at the
moment! Break them and be done!}}
  More than making him despondent though, thoughts of yesterday scared
Darran into returning upstairs and knocking. Things would be less awkward
in the long run if they knew he knew and was okay... not to mention things
being better in the long run if he survived the week.

****

Luke
Darren, Bondmate of Tareena; and
Darran

 Myiona was having a pleasant dream and in the middle of it found
herself being kissed.  Her eyes flew open to see Mura'shar looking down at
her.  "Time to wake up, sleepyhead," he said.  "Are you ready to go?"

     "Skree," Myiona said sitting up quickly, "you were supposed to wake me
up in time to get ready.  Just a few minutes, I promise.  It will not take
long for me to get ready."

     With Skree's help, the Domani was dressed and ready to go in a matter
of minutes.  "I hope I look okay," she said turning around so he could take
in the gorgeous dress that La'rece had loaned her to wear.  "I usually like
to take a lot longer to dress for special occasions."

     Myiona told Skree to go get herself some dinner and then spend some
time working on the lessons she had given her.  After the young girl left,
she looked at her bondmate again.  "So," she said with a smile, "where is it
that we are going for dinner, or is it a surprise?"

Vicky
aka Myiona

 Taria stood silently.. watching.  She had had the feeling that her plans
were going awry, and now she had proof of her instincts.  That ambitious
fool Nev had ruined everything.  Her plans had to be recalculated now, all
because of that impatient dog.

Well...  Such a problem could be rectified soon.  Yes, Taria had plans for
that idiotic imbecile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Talia collapsed next to a tall, thick tree trunk.  The delicate material of
the Domani dress was not made for such travel.  The translucent material was
torn and ripped in several places.  Talia was less than 'decently adorned'
but she didn't care.  There was a time and place to worry about one's
appearance, and now was not such a time.

Myiona had said that Taria was infiltrating the Tower.  There was no telling
what the woman would do.  Talia touched the bracelet and frowned.  (~I
should have paid more attention to those Traveling lessons.~)

The tired Dragonsworn pushed herself up off the tree trunk and pressed
forward.  The Tower was near now.  She could sense it.  She felt the distant
indication of Saidar. (~It must be close.  Light send that it be close!~)

~Talia Daimar
<><

 Mura'shar didn't want to leave Myiona alone, but there was little more good he could do here.  So he decided to hold lessons anyway, despite the events of earlier this morning.
 He arranged his class so that he cold always keep an eye on Myionas quarters.  The class members were circulating rumors of a party this evening.  Maybe he and Myiona would stop by.
 It was disheartening to see the number of absent Soldiers and even Dedicated in the class.  Almost all the real troublemakers were gone now, but to see just how many troublemakers there were to begin with, and so few new faces...
 "You, there" he called to a face he didn't recognize "Who are you?"
 The young Taraboner, clean shaven, oddly enough, looked at him calmly
 "I am Servalian Feiy.  I'm new to the Black Tower and was told to report here for my lessons" His tone was respectful, which was a peasant change of pace, given recent events.
 "Well, Servalian, it's good to see a new Soldier in the ranks. There's been a bit of....trouble....lately, but if you behave yourself, we'll get along just fine"
 Mura'shar returned to the lesson, keeping it simple for the new Soldier, and because his mind wasn't really on his work He didn't even bring and Novtiates this time, and focused on saidin only.
 He dismissed the class early, so he could change in time for the reservation.  His new outfit was black, of course, but he did not wear his pins.  He was incognito for tonight, and someone might know what the sword and Dragon mean.
 He walked over to Myiona's quarters and knocked on the door.  Skree answered it and smiled up at Mura'shar.
 "Hello, Skree, is Myiona here?" the little girl nodded and let him in, pointing to Myiona's bedroom.
 Myiona was sleeping.  Someone must have used Healing on her, the bruises on her face were gone, and her ankle no longer throbbed through the bond.  She looked so peaceful at that moment that he didn't want to wake her.
 He spent a moment simply looking at her.  She was at peace for the first time since returning from the last mission.  He gently bent down and kissed her.
 When Myiona's eyes fluttered open, Mura'shar grinned down at her. "Time to wake up, sleepyhead.  Are you ready to go?"

Jake
Marked Asha'man

 La'rece said "There, that's better.  Now put on that dress and make
Mura'shar forget everything in the world but you, not that you'd have to
work too hard at that in the first place."

     Myiona looked at her and said, "I want to thank you again for standing
by me throughout all of this mess.  You have no idea what it means to me
knowing that you believed in me despite all of the evidence that was against
me.  And," she took a deep breath, "for coming with Mura'shar to save me
from those monsters.  I thought I was going to die or be handed over to the
Seanchan.  I never thought I would see Mura'shar or any of you again.  Then,
you come here and offer me a new gown to wear and heal me.  You are a good
friend, and I will not forget it."

     On the way out the door, La'rece stopped to add, "There's going to be a
party tonight if I have to open a Gateway to Illian and bring back a band at
knife-point!"  La'rece disappeared before poking her head back into view.
"See you later, Myiona … I'm glad you're back."

     Myiona looked at the dress La'rece had brought.  She held it up in
front of herself and looked in the mirror.  It was a good color for the
Domani and she thought it would look good on her.  "Skree," Myiona said with
a smile, "what do you think?  How should I wear my hair?"

      After they decided what she would do, Myiona was told to take a nap.
She smiled at Skree and told her it was a good idea.  The Domani stretched
out on the bed, going to sleep quickly.  The healing, the ordeal she had
been through, and the relief that everything was over now, all made her
exhausted.

Vicky
aka Myiona

 Leaving Aramis and the other Asha'man to deal with the prisoners, La'rece headed back to her apartments.  She had overheard Mura'shar speaking to Myiona … *Well, good for him! A man who knows how to make a woman feel and forget.*   Looking inside one of the tall wardrobes, the Arafellan mulled over a collection of new gowns she had had made, several of which were of the Cairhenien and Domani styles of cut.  After what had been inflicted on Myiona, the Domani just might appreciate a chance to shine like the Northern Star.  Smiling broadly, La'rece chose out a particularly elegant dress and headed out the door to see Myiona.

Mura'shar had taken Myiona back to her rooms, but La'rece knew that there was not much the Domani could do for herself in terms of healing the wounds that had been inflicted upon her, and the Arafellan had no immediate recollection of Mura'shar having significant healing abilities.  For her own part, La'rece was far from a brilliant healer, but it was still far from her weakest ability.

Approaching the door to her friend's apartment, La'rece hesitated before knocking.  *Light, I hope I'm not interrupting anything!*  With a wry grin once again touching her lips, the Dragonsworn rapped on the door.

The door opened to reveal a bruised and tired Myiona.  Smiling La'rece held up the dress causing her friend's eyes to widen.  "May I come in? … er, or am I interrupting something?"

Myiona gave La'rece a tired smirk, opening the door and gesturing for the Arafellan to come in.  Skree was busy at work around the rooms.  Myiona, still in her robe had clearly just finished a bath.  *Now that sounds like a good idea!* the Dragonsworn thought to herself.

"What's up, La'rece?" Myiona asked catching the other Dragonsworn peering around the rooms as though looking for someone.

"What? Oh, I brought you a dress for your dinner tonight with Mura'shar."  Still looking into other rooms, La'rece added, "Where is he?"

"Not here.  He left just before …" Myiona replied gesturing to the bath.

"Ah," La'rece said.  "Okay, don't take this the wrong way, but you look terrible.  You look like you just lost a tavern brawl in Maradon."

Unable able to believe what the other woman had just said, Myiona guffawed which led to both women laughing almost hysterically causing poor Skree to look at the two of them as though they had lost their minds.

"Come here," the Arafellan said to the Domani, as she placed her hands on either side of her friend's face.  Myiona gasped as Saidar surged through her causing her to rise up on tiptoe.

When La'rece brought her hands away the bruises and swelling were gone, as was the tightness that had found its way to Myiona's eyes.  "There, that's better.  Now put on that dress and make Mura'shar forget everything in the world but you, not that you'd have to work too hard at that in the first place."  La'rece shook her head as she headed back out the door.  Pausing on her way out, the Arafellan added, "There's going to be a party tonight if I have to open a Gateway to Illian and bring back a band at knife-point!"  La'rece disappeared before poking her head back into view.  "See you later, Myiona … I'm glad you're back."

The door closed leaving Myiona holding the gown, grinning and shaking her head.
 

Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 Servalian Feiy was beginning to regret coming to the Black Tower. He'd been abandoned - apparently - outside some building or other in the Black Tower. So he leaned against the corner and waited and watched. The people going by, Aes Sedai (Dragonsworn, now), the Asha'man, their wives, even children playing games on the stoops of some of the houses. But there was something fundamentally...wrong. He sensed underlying tension, everyone looked wary, and there was unmistakable animosity between some of the Dragonsworn and Asha'man as they passed each other.
 The sun inched its way towards the horizon, and it was nothing if not an hour or two past noon when someone finally was sent to retrieve him. He has been leaning against the bloody building since mid-morning, and wanted nothing more then to put his feet up and have something to drink. But he was willing to forgo those while he was asked a few questions by a dry, ferrety man in his shirtsleeves. It was generally accepted that he could channel, and so they skipped actually testing him for the ability. He had only to sign his name on a few papers and then was led through a maze of alley-like streets to a building that housed a number of apartments for Soldiers.
 The Taraboner was infinitely grateful to shed his satchel of belongings on the narrow bed - there were actually two narrow beds, but no one was assigned the other yet - and sit down. His feet ached. Hefeel backwards, grimacing at the less than luxurious stuffed matress. He linked neatly kept fingers and stretched until his joints popped. Where does one get food around here?
 Serv fingered the sooty cuff of the coat he'd been temporarily fitted with. It was too narrow in the shoulders and across his back, but he felt a stirring of pride at wearing it. Purposefully, he rose, intent on learning about this Black Tower.
*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *
 "You, there! Who are you?"
 Serv, blinked. He had been told to come here for lessons, but perhaps he'd made a mistake? Only his second day in the Tower, he was not yet prepared to make waves. Yet, the instructor, Mura'shar, didn't seem upset - well, more distracted than upset at least. "I am Servalian Feiy.  I'm new to the Black Tower and was told to report here for my lessons..."
 "Well, Servalien, it's good to see a new Soldier in the ranks. There's been a bit of....trouble....lately, but if you behave yourself, we'll get along just fine."
 In less than two days, the Taraboner had been astute enough to pick out the source of the tension in the Tower. The Asha'man were beginning to overcome their distrust of Aes Sedai and had come to terms with what they were. Now they had confidence, bordering on ego. An unfortunate incident involving an attack on some Dragonsworn and the death of two men had brought this bubble of animosity to the surface.
 Serv had limited experience with Aes Sedai, but he rejected pigeon-holing people by rumors alone. Besides, these were Dragonsworn, not Aes Sedai. It was unfortunate that some did not seem able of realizing that they were all devoted to the same cause now.
 He marveled at how soon "he" had become "we" and "they" had become "us." With a self-mocking smile, he leaned against an uprooted boulder and brought his mind back to focus on the lessons.

Hannah

 Despite Myiona's rushing to get ready, she still looked radiant when she was prepared. As she took hold of his arm, she asked "Where is it that we are going for dinner, or is it a surprise?"
 As they stepped outside, Mura'shar smiled at her.  "It's a place called the Golden Lion.  It's a place in Caemlyn, better than any ordinary inn.  There's good food, wine, dancing, it'll be fun." His smile grew when he saw her respond to "dancing" "And afterwards, we may stop back here for the celebration at the Black Tower"
 After selecting a pair of horses, Mura'shar was about to open a gateway, when he saw Talia walk by.  Touched by a flash of guilt, Mura'shar excused herself and approached the Dragonsworn.  He felt guilty about suspecting her in Myiona's situation.
 "Talia?" she started at her name.  She was deep in thought over something "I just wanted to thank you for your help.  I was skeptical at first, but you were right, Darkfriends were responsible for Myiona's troubles.  I just wanted to let you know."
 Talia

 Myiona was surprised when they "bumped into" Talia.  She smiled at the
Saldaean, and tried to fight the feeling of "wrongness" that seemed almost
overwhelming.  ~This is ridiculous,~ she thought.  ~You have been on several
missions with Talia and she has never shown any sign of falseness.~  Still
she could not shake the feeling.

     Taria looked from Mura'shar to Myiona and then back to Mura'shar.
"Going somewhere?"

      "I want to add my thanks as well," the Domani said.  "Even though we
did not heed your warnings as much as we should have, it is good to know
that we can depend on you in the bad times.  We need to trust each other at
the Tower."

      A few minutes later, Mura'shar led Myiona to the place he intended to
use to open a gateway.  They stepped from just outside of the tower grounds
to Caemyln.  The Domani's smile became brighter seeing the bustle of the
city.  She missed being close to the shops and inns of her homeland, but
Andor was almost as exciting.

     As they dismounted, she thought she saw a face she knew, but it
couldn't be.  No one from the White Tower would come here when the Dragon
ruled the city.  She shook her head as Mura'shar took her hand and led her
into the inn.  It was not overly crowded which meant service should be good
and they would be able to hear each other speak.

     As they took a table, Myiona was pleased to see a musician of some sort
in the corner.  That meant dancing and she liked to dance.  It gave her a
good excuse to be in her bondmate's arms and that was something the Domani
enjoyed anytime it was achieved.

Vicky
aka Myiona

 Laughing, La'rece let her head hang back as a handsome Asha'man lifted and swung her around.  The dancing had been energetic this evening and this reel was far from the most tame.  A pause in the music came when the musicians took a momentary break in their efforts.  All the Healing in the world would not help a man playing the flute whilst nature 'called.'

Accepting a hug and a kiss from the Asha'man, La'rece excused herself and made her way toward the refreshments.  Taking a glass of chilled spiced wine, the Dragonsworn strolled over to one of the large leatherleaf trees from which strings of paper lanterns, from Tear, had been strung.  Soon the music resumed, but needing to catch her breath La'rece Barata'gan watched from the sidelines.

Glowing brightly, the full moon cast pale light over the Tower grounds.  The Dragonsworn was admiring the moonlight as it played upon the ground when movement caught her eye.  Suddenly, very alert, La'rece moved her eyes between the party and the side of a large building a good thirty paces away from the nearest revellers.  Standing at the corner of the building, barely visible but for the full moon, a woman stood watching the frolicking members of the Black Tower.  No, not all the men and women, watching one woman in particular.

*Is that …?*  La'rece wondered and then moved … quietly.

Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 Myiona looked up as the door to the inn burst open and two women
hurried inside.  "Mura'shar," she said looking at the women, "I think we are
not the only ones from the tower who came out for the evening.  Ariana and
Elois just walked in the door, and they appear upset."

     "Normally," the Domani continued, "I would ignore them, but something
in Ariana's face makes me realize that the may be in trouble."  Myiona stood
and looked directly at the two women, who, sensing the stare, turned and
looked back at her.

     They hurried over and sat down with the couple.  "Well," Myiona asked,
"what has happened to get you so upset, Ariana?  I would have thought you
better schooled than to wear your emotions so openly on your face."

     The Healer opened her mouth as if to protest, but shut it quickly as
someone else walked into the inn.  Her eyes darting from Myiona to whoever
was standing near the door.  Even the Green showed some surprise when she
saw who had walked in the door.  Though she quickly got it under control.

     "Losaine and . . . I can't quite tell . . . ah . . .  Zoline, I
believe.  She was nothing but a novice when I left the tower and was not
expected to be raised,"  Myiona said softly.  "I think the best thing is if
I am no longer Aes Sedai, which is technically true, and this is my . . ."
she looked at Mura'shar and smiled, " . . lover.  We are working for my
aunt, which I do from time to time, and in town for a little time alone.  No
lies, but telling nothing we do not have to tell.  I know you, Ariana from
the time we were together at the Tower and you stopped to say hello.  Does
everyone understand?"

     Myiona's smile seemed to convey how delighted she was to see so many
old friends at one time as the other Aes Sedai walked over to join them.
"Losaine?" she said standing up and hugging the other woman.  "This is a
surprise.  Imagine running into both you two, and Ariana on the same day.
My love, these are some old friends of mine from my days as Aes Sedai."  She
put her hand on Mura'shar's arm and stared lovingly into his eyes.

      "And, Zoline you we certainly the talk of the tower while I was
there," she continued.  "It is good to see you both."  Myiona was blatantly
hanging all over Mura'shar, knowing that Losaine would be disgusted by such
a spectacle.  It was her best bet to run the women off.

     "I suppose I should not be surprised to see you here," the red sniffed,
"and like this.  You were always man crazy.  I knew you never belonged at
the tower."

     Myiona giggled.  "I am much happier now," she said with a vapid looking
smile.  "I get to spend all of my time with this handsome man.  We do
traveling and setting up new accounts for my family's fabric and dye
business.  Both of you could use some help in choosing your clothing.
Zoline, that pale green does not become you.  I would put you in something
melon colored.  I have some swaths back in my room that I would love to show
you.  And, for you Losaine, I think black, yes black is definitely your
color."  Her tone and manner were perfectly neutral and pleasant, but the
implication still hit home.

     "We followed these two inside because I have some questions to ask
them," Losaine said firmly, "but with your contacts and traveling, you might
be better to ask.  Have you heard anything of this Black Tower or the
Asha'men that are rumored to be gathering nearby?"

     Her ice cold eyes flickered from Myiona to Mura'shar and then to Myiona
again.  She cleared her throat and hoped that Mura'shar would jump in to
save her before she had to tell the truth.

Vicky
aka Myiona

 It was a celebration.. and so most of the Tower was preoccupied with that,
instead of with the prisoners.  Taria walked steadily toward it now.  One
man on guard gave her a wary eye.

"I've come to relieve you,"  Taria said with a firm nod and a bow.  "Go join
the celebration, you no doubt deserve it after all that has happened, no?"
She reaffirmed her casual conversation with a smile.

The man looked uneasy at the whole thing, "I wasn't informed of a change of
guard tonight..."

Taria waved a hand, the man felt the tingle of Saidar too late... for now he
was caught in her web of Compulsion, "Go to the party.. enjoy yourself.  I
will watch him."

The man nodded, dumbfounded, and left.

Taria smirked at his retreating back.. and then entered the place where Nev
was held.

Standing before the captured Asha'man-Darkfriend, Taria gave him her angry
look.. the one that usually struck to fear to all her underlings at the
other Tower, "You disappoint me, Nev...."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Talia could hear the sounds of.. merriment mostly.  Talia almost laughed for
sheer joy.  Saidar filled the air as some practiced, and some played with
Saidar at the celebration.  She didn't care about her appearance.. the torn
Domani dress that barely covered anything.

The long lost Dragonsworn stepped foot at last onto the grounds of the Black
Tower.. and then fell to her knees one last time.  "Home...."

~Taria Daimar, bad girl
~Talia Daimar, mad girl
<><

 Silently strolling up beside the dark-haired woman, La'rece Barata'gan wondered if her encouragement of a celebration to help ease the Tower's tensions had been a mistake.  Oh, clearly the majority of men and women were having an enjoyable evening of dancing and merriment having left, for the moment, their anger and doubts somewhere else… or, at the least, carefully concealed.

Not looking at the woman but rather at the spinning couples under the brightly lit lanterns, the Arafellan Dragonsworn spoke.  "You think this is a mistake, Tareena."  It was a statement, not a question.  La'rece knew full well that Tareena would likely not approve of a 'village celebration' in the face of what had recently occurred and given the doubts that still hung over much of the Tower.

Turning her head to look at the red-haired woman, Tareena D'Haviland's eyes were penetrating.  "It's not over, La'rece."

"Well, of course, it isn't, Tareena.  But what purpose does it serve to have everyone sulking about, speculating in their rooms?  By my way of thinking, that just leads right back to suspicion and having everyone potentially at each other's throat."  Seeing no change in her friend's hard stare, La'rece added, "What harm does it do, Tareena?  I should think you'd want the Tower healed?"

"Healed?!  Of course, I want it healed!  What an inane thing to say, La'rece.  Do you suppose that a few jigs accompanied by a band will magically dissolve the issues that confront us?  It doesn't change what Myiona did!"

"No, it doesn't" La'rece replied flatly.  "And as to that, I believe the answer may lie with the Asha'man who took her captive.  I believe it may be time to ask a few well chosen questions."  Moving purposefully away from the light and music, the Arafellan paused and looked back at the woman silhouetted against the lights of the party.  "Are you coming, Tareena?"
 

Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 Tareena walked the perimeter of the celebration, carefully observing each little group or clique as she casually moved through.  Although the immediate threat to the Dragonsworn seemed to be removed, there still appeared to be an undercurrent of tension.  Ideally, this would disappear as everyone felt the security of the tower reestablish itself and yet, a small voice in the back of her head whispered that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't over yet.  Try as she might, she could not silence the thought.  She wished that she could relax and enjoy the atmosphere as most of the others seemed to be doing but she kept a silent vigil instead.  Sometimes she would stop and smile, other times she would step in to soothe and argument that seemed on the verge of erupting into something much more dangerous.  All in all, it was not the pleasant evening she had envisioned when she first learned about the impromptu celebration.

Lisa~Tareena De'Havilan
Guardian of the Black Tower

 Tareena resisted the urge to nervously lick her lips. She stared deep into the eyes of the Arafellan woman as her thoughts chased one another around her head.  Questioning the Ashaman is one thing but here? Now?  What does she have in mind?  Don't be a goose, you know exactly what she has in mind and it isn't to chat nicely or to keep him company.  Should we leave this to the Ashaman?  Will we get answers if we do?  Light, if it were anyone else but Lar'ece, I would flay them with my tongue for even thinking what I know she is thinking.  Yet, I trust her judgment and she may be right.  Myiona's life may depend on the answers we get tonight.  Do I have a right to deny my friend this chance when I have the opportunity to help her?  I was right to charge Myiona with her crimes and I would do it again and yet, don't I owe her something as well?  Lar'ece is offering this opportunity...no, that is too noble.  She is almost daring me to go with her.  Testing me...her respect for me in question.  I can lead by my title of Guardian and give orders but am I respected?  Do I deserve the friendship and loyalty of these battle hard men and women?  Will I sacrifice to save them?
    Tareena cast one lingering look over her shoulder at the lights and the music. There lies safety, security.  She could return, safe in her cocoon of knowledge that she had stood by her morals and principles at all costs and few would perhaps blame her. Her eyes lingered on first this group and then that one.  Almost....almost she was ready to deny Lar'ece until her eyes lit upon a Soldier standing partly in the shadows.  He was watching a group of young Novititates and there was no mistaking the look upon his face.  Malevolence.
      Turning back around to face the Arafellan was the easiest and the hardest thing she had had to do.  "Lead the way."

 "Lead the way" Tareena said with resolve.

With a nod, La'rece turned and the two women set off to question the man who had taken Myiona and tortured her.  As they approached the building in which the Asha'man was being held, Tareena stopped La'rece with a hand on her wrist.

"We're … just going to … question him … right?"  Tareena asked, afraid of what the answer might be; afraid of the choice she would have to make.  The choice she had made.  The Arafellan's flat stare was all the answer she needed.

"You may wait here, Tareena, if you'd like" La'rece said calmly.

"I would not like, thank you very much" the Guardian replied, her voice taking a bit of an edge.  "It's as much a violation of the Tower's rules to … do what your contemplating, La'rece."

La'rece just looked at her friend for a long moment, her eyes as sharp as a hawk's.  Pitching her voice to carry to the Guardian's ears and no further, La'rece spoke with deliberate intent, "What I'm contemplating, Tareena … is that this place that I now call home and the people who are now my family … and yours … are being torn apart by outside forces.  Darkfriends, and, unless I've missed my mark, this Asha'man and his cohorts are the key to discovering what's amiss in the Tower."

Tareena did not respond but stood her ground still waiting for some sort of explanation from La'rece as to what her plans were.

"Look Tareena, you may think that I'm two steps shy of being a Whitecloak Questioner, but I assure you that we will leave no marks and that the Asha'man will be left very much alive … if somewhat the worse for wear."

"Questions only, La'rece" the Guardian said firmly.  "No torture."

The Arafellan considered this.  "Hmm.  Questions but no torture?  Well … we'll see.  I'm sure it won't be necessary in any event."

Tareena looked askance at La'rece as the two women proceeded to enter the building where the prisoners were being kept.

*****
Carefully, the two Dragonsworn made their way to the area in which the Asha'man, Nev was being held.  As they entered the hallway, La'rece put up a hand to stop Tareena.  Without saying a word, La'rece motioned to Tareena to hang back.  Something was amiss.  There should have been someone, some noise from the room ahead.  Where were the guards?

Embracing Saidar, La'rece sent a fine weave of Air touched with Water and Spirit into the chamber…

"You dissappoint me, Nev…"

*That was Talia!* thought La'rece.  *What's going on here, I wonder*

Tareena and La'rece shared a look.  They, of course, could both hear the third woman's voice through the weave.
 

Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 Alcinia stood over in the shadows watching the dancing couples.  She noticed that quite a few people stood eyeing each other nervously.  The thief shook her head sadly, and stepped even further away from the light enshrouded courtyard.

 She slipped up into the branches of a nearby tree, where she could watch everyone and not be seen.  She broke off part of a branch, pulled a knife from up her sleeve, and began whittling on the wood.  "Dancing," she muttered, "who needs it?"

 Nev didn't look as if he recognized her at all.  Taria should have known it
would be this way.  The poor Darkfriend had no idea he faced his superior by
far.  Taria paced closer to the bound man.

"I think I like you this way.. when the Great Lord hears of your failure, He
will surely grant your pitiful existence to my bidding.. as He has done
others as foolish as you..."

The woman felt something.. Saidar.. close by.  She played with the collar of
her shirt as she cut her eyes in that direction.  The hall was silent as it
should be, but something was not right.  If there were eavesdroppers.. The
Darkfriend woman would surely have to deal with them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Talia crept on the edges of the Black Tower's grounds.  Closer now, she
could sense the bond which was forced upon her by her evil counterpart.
Hatred boiled within her with renewed vigor.

Talia headed straight for where she sensed Taria, regardless of who might
see her on her way there.  The tattered sheer Domani entertainer's dress
hung like rags about her body.  Indecent as it seemed, Talia had only one
thing in mind.  The destruction of her alternate self.

The Saldaean Dragonsworn unsheathed her best daggers as she neared her
destination.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taria's eyes widened.  She felt anger from a bond that she knew should be
dulled by distance.  (~Curse them.. Never trust two dull wits to do a simple
job like hold a prisoner.  When I get back, both Mera'shar and Myiona will
taste my steel.~)

"Nev.."  She turned to him, momentarily ignoring the possible eavesdropper
for the time being... there was something of more importance to be done.

"I have a task for you.. and do it right this time.  The Great Lord rarely
ever gives second chances to the likes of you."  Taria began to unweave the
shield upon Nev.

~Taria/Talia Daimar, Dragonsworn
Bonded to Allan
<><

 Taria looked at Nev, "I think I like you this way.. when the Great Lord hears of your failure, He will surely grant your pitiful existence to my bidding.. as He has done others as foolish as you... I have a task for you.. and do it right this time.  The Great Lord rarely ever gives second chances to the likes of you."

Uncertainty painted the faces of both women.  La'rece and Tareena shared a look incredulous shock.  Talia was a darkfriend?!  It did not seem possible, however, La'rece had learned through long years experience that those who served the Dark One were seldom as one would expect them to be and appear.  As the woman continued speaking there was a slight hesitation in her voice.  *Has she detected the weave?* La'rece wondered.

Motioning Tareena to remain still, La'rece quickly spun a light bending weave to camouflage the two Dragonsworn from anyone who might come looking for them.  The amount of Saidar required to create the illusion was not great but certainly more than the eavesdropping weave she still maintained and enough to alert the woman in the other room of the presence of a woman who could channel.  Finished, La'rece quickly tied-off and inverted the illusion weave to avoid further detection.

Still maintaining the thin thread of Saidar that allowed them to hear the conversation from the other room, La'rece and Tareena waited to see if Talia would step out from the room.

Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

OCC: On the cover illustration for Winter's Heart, is that supposed to be Moraine mounted on the horse behind Perrin?  It certainly looks like her old staff (that she threw away several books ago).  Just wondering if anyone had insights on that account… 8^P

 Taria noticed in the middle of her instructions that someone had wove
something.. it felt familiar.. as if it were something she did all the time.
  She smirked as she finished her instructions to Nev.

"Now, you know what you need to do,"  She frowned at him just for affect.
"Do -not- fail!"  Nev moved as if to do as she commanded, but Taria held up
her hand to halt him.  She quickly took hold of more Saidar, using the
ter'angreal in her pouch.

"Sister, dear, you are too young to play hide and seek."  The weaving of a
shield about herself secured her confidence of her infallability.  "Make
yourself known, else you will never know the whereabouts of your dear Marked
Asha'man Allan."  Taria chuckled with a sinister smirk on her face.. still
leading whomever it might be to believe that she was indeed Talia Daimar,
Dragonsworn.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A wall.. one wall stood between her and her counterpart.  Talia growled to
herself.. too tired even to spend time going through the entrance.  It might
even be warded for all she knew.  The Dragonsworn looked at the ter'angreal
that Myiona had given her.  Myiona, who had tortured her..  She had set her
free.

(~Jealous of Mera'shar's attention on me.... she can have it for all I care.
  Use it to defeat Taria, she said.. then give it to my Myiona.~)  Talia
went through the past events in her mind.  Then she faced the wall again.

She embraced Saidar, pulled as much as possible to herself through the
ter'angreal and focused on the wall.  Air formed intself into a hardened
hammer.. an improvised battering ram stronger than steel..  Sweat already
beaded on her forehead as Talia swung that Air formed hammer at the wall..
causing it to smash open into a ragged doorway.  Debris fell inward, and
scattered throughout the room.

~Talia/Taria Daimar
~me
<><

 Something was amiss ... Talia had told the prisoner Nev to go do her bidding yet he had not appeared in the doorway.  Quickly determining that they had been detected, La'rece released the eavesdropping weave while she and Tareena prepared to defend themselves.

With their attention focused on the entry into the far chamber containing Talia and the prisoner Nev, La'rece and Tareena were caught completely off guard by the sudden implosion of the far wall of the chamber.  Both women squeaked like newly arrived novices being caught by the Mistress of Novices doing something they aught naught to have been.

Not entirely aware that they were still shielded from searching eyes by the inverted light bending weave that camouflaged them, La'rece and Tareena watched with open mouths as Talia came through the newly opened hole in the wall heading directly toward the chamber where ... Talia? ... and the prisoner Nev were talking.

After a moment, Tareena wacked La'rece on the arm indicating that they should follow the other woman into the room (or at least to its edge) to see what precisely was going on. With just the slightest hesitation as the shock wore off, La'rece followed Tareena as the two women carefully made their way to the chamber's doorway to see what they could find out...

Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 Tareena saw mirror confusion painted upon Lar'ece's face, not surprisingly.  Things had gone from weird to more weird as the Dragonsworn hid themselves from the sight of Talia.  At least they thought it was Talia until Talia had come bursting through the side of the barn looking like a Domani hussy in torn rags, breathing hard with the light of rage pooling in her eyes.  What under the light have we walked into?
    Realizing that Talia ? had begun to move into the other room where Nev and Talia ? were talking, Tareena shook herself out of the wide eyed daze she was in, hit Lar'ece to get her moving, and began to silently cross to the doorway.  She had been reluctant to follow Lar'ece here but now that they were, they had front row seats to the show and whichever Talia turned out to be Talia, she was definitely going to need some help.

 Mura'shar gazed down at Myiona's sleeping form.  She was so happy, so peaceful at that moment.  Like all the pain and suffering that had gone before was erased from her life.  He hated to wake her, but a new day was stating, and life had to go on.
 But he could let her sleep for a few minutes longer.  They had had quite an evening.  He flushed slightly when he remembered some of it.  The party was more sedate than usual when they got back to the Black Tower, so they retired to his quarters for the evening.
 Mura'shar donned his clothes and put his sword and Dragon pins on. He was looking for his boots when he spotted the two letters by the door.
 The envelopes were scuffed where he and Myiona had stepped on them last night in the dark. He hoped he hadn't missed anything important, since they had been there all night.  He picked them up and sat in a chair to read them.
 He opened the first letter and read.  Then he reread it.  Then he reread it again "This can't be" he whispered as he read it yet again. "This has to be a mistake"
 "What's a mistake?"  Myiona asked from the other room. She was up and nearly dressed herself How long had he been staring at this piece of paper?
 "I got a message some time yesterday" he told her, holding out the missive "Stevan has stepped down as tsorvan'm'hael.  I've been assigned to replace him"
 "That's wonderful news" she exclaimed "You can do so much good for the Storm Team..."
 Mura'shar cut her off.  He had an idea "Yes.  I can make your problem go away.  I can dismiss all charges and restore you to your proper rank!" he was starting to like this idea.  But Myiona remained silent for a moment before speaking.
 "That's not a good idea, Mura'shar.  Not only would it s this rift.  But thank you for the offer"
 Mura'shar let the matter drop for now.  His focus shifted to the other, unopened letter.  Now that he'd read the first one, he had a feeling he knew what was in the second.

OOC  Well, I guess I;m the boss now. Let the Reign of Terror Begin!  hehe. anyway.  I hope to start a new mission in the very near future.  So let's wrap up any loose ends, and all that stuff.

Jake
M'Hael

 ~Plink! Plink!~ In the silence as the two women gazed at each other, the dripping water seemed hugely amplified.  Two Talias stood stock still, eyes locked onto one another, one with what remained of her garments barely clinging to her.

Sitting hidden behind a crate, La'rece and Tareena, each ready to channel at a moment's notice, watched to see what would transpire.  Clearly, one of these women was the real Talia, while the other …

La'rece felt pretty sure which one was the real Talia, but sure was a far cry from certain and certain was even further from confirmed.  As much as it ached her to do so, the Arafellan remained hidden with her companion as they waited for the inevitable conflict to erupt in the next room.
 

Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 Talia flew backward as a fist of air struck her.  No weaves were visible making it clear that it was Nev, the Asha'man who had attacked her.

Quickly assessing the situation, Tareena slid a razor sharp weave of Spirit between the darkfriend and the True Source severing the woman from Saidar while La'rece sent a separate weave of spirit mixed with water placing a shield between the Asha'man and Saidin.

With the two darkfriends effectively shielded or stilled, the two hidden Dragonsworn stood and moved forward into the room.  La'rece moved over to where Talia lay and quickly delved her for injuries and finding the young woman more or less in tact, healed her remaining wounds.  Meanwhile, Tareena strode forward to where the two darkfriends huddled.  The woman had her hands pressed to the sides of her head, screaming while the man sat wide-eyed, staring at Tareena as though she were a red adder.  As well she might be for the sheer contempt in her eyes as she gazed at the two wretches.

Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 Face to face stood the two women.. one neatly primmed and regal.. the other
bedraggled and worn.  The Dragonsworn woman glared at the Darkfriend with
all the vehemence she could muster.  The other woman merely smiled in her
smug way as she debris settled and the dust cleared.

"What took you so long?"  Taria chuckled.. Suddenly, Talia staggered
backward from some unseen force.  Unseen to all, but Nev.  His instructions
were clear (I've left him unused until now, hoping his creator would do
something.. but.. please forgive any stepped on toes).. attack Talia until
she was worn.

Nev, however, didn't realize that Talia had already constructed an Air
shield about her for any reaction to her entrance.  Pointing the hand on
which a bracelet rested toward the man, Talia flung the strongest force she
could manage.  Nev fell.. hitting his head on some wall debris.

Taria chuckled, "Nev wasn't all that smart to begin with,"  Taria held out
her own ter'angreal, herself aglow with Saidar, "Mera'shar and Myiona were
obviously not up to the task I set before them.  No matter, you are but a
flea I mean to scratch.."  Taria narrowed her eyes and let loose with
Saidar, amplified by the rod-shaped ter'angreal in her hand.

Talia casually tossed the opposing woman's Saidar, "You seem not to
recognize what I hold in my hand, foul Darkfriend.."  She spoke through her
teeth.. holding out the bracelet firmly attached to her wrist.  Taria's eyes
widened only slightly.

"Myiona's ter'angreal will not help you,"  Earth began to shake beneath
Talia's feet.  Already weak from the ordeal through which she had been, she
unsteadily fell to her knees.  Her hold on Saidar shook.. and Taria took
this opportunity to toss her toward the wall with Air.

~Talia/Taria Daimar
<><

 "The time has come for answers, darkfriend."  La'rece said softly, her voice colder than Arafellan winter.  Bared steel.   "It doesn't require a Shovan Scholar to figure out who you are and where you came from.  You will tell us what you had planned and who is working with you …"

Dim light shone from flames floating above the small group, created and held with Saidin.  Tareena moved closer to the woman seated in the small plain chair.  She could clearly see the bands of air that secured the woman's arms and legs.  Severed from Saidar the woman would never touch the True Source again, yet still defiance radiated from the prisoner's eyes.  Touching La'rece's should, Tareena moved into the small pool of light directly over the Other.  Compared to the straightforward threat presented by La'rece, the calm intensity of Tareena's gaze caused the prisoner's eyes to dart between the two Dragonsworn.  Likely wondering if she had not been better off with the lioness than the leopard.

Talia sat by watching, anger plainly painted on her face.  La'rece watched with cold eyes, her hand caressing the handle of her dagger.  Grim faces, men and women, surrounded the room.  There were not many present, but the combined animosity of the small gathering must have been like a hammer strike to the darkfriend as Tareena leaned in closely and said, "Now.  Tell us everything."

Quickly glancing at the door through which Nev had been taken earlier, the prisoner licked her lips … and talked.

Lauren
La'rece Barata'gan
Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster
 

OOC: Sorry if it seems like I rushed things ... I wanted to move the SL (confession of the setup of Myiona) along before the next mission begins.

 Tareena calmly watched La'rece attempt to confront the darkfriend.  Even with the tension pressing down upon the group, part of Tareena silently admired the Arafellan and her icy behavior.  White hot anger was raging through her veins and it was taking ever ounce of her control to not show it.  Outwardly she was in charge.  Inwardly she wanted to take the darkfriends apart, piece by piece, as she had been taught so long ago in her Seanchan world.  Still, however menacing Lar'ece  could be, Tareena could tell that it was not making an impact on Taria.  Probably because Taria and La'rece are a lot alike.  Taria understands intimidation of the kind La'rece is doling out.  Let's she if she understands my kind.
     Tareena lightly touched Lar'ece's shoulder, giving her the message to move aside.  Tareena stared down into Taria's eyes.  For one moment, Tareena allowed her to see into her depths.  That secret part of herself that is kept tightly under lock and key.  Few people at the tower really know or understand what kind of life she had led before she came to the tower.  What other people would consider extreme torture or abuse, had been daily life for her.  Until she gained high status, her life as a damane was beyond what most people could comprehend.  Along with that training had come the knowledge of certain ways to use the power.  Ways that would strip a person of there mind while decapacitaing their body.  The Seanchan had no issues with using these skills as needed.
    Tareena calmly stared into Taria's eyes and watched first recognition and then fear ignite within them.  Tareena knew she had her.  Leaning into her, staring deep within her eyes, she commanded her to speak.

Lisa~Tareena De'Havilan
Guardian of the Black Tower
bondmate to Luke Sadke