The Sickness

Rain tore through the trees, soaking the two women who stumbled over
tree
roots as they wearily made their way through the forest. Their path was
dark,
but bolts of lightning illuminated the sky, and the forest below.

"We've come so far. We can't give up now," one managed to say to the
other.

"Why didn't we go to the White Tower, or those rebels?" It was the
other
voice which spoke, one far less confident, and far weaker.

The first voice replied. "I've told you before: they're too busy
fighting
each other to bother with us. We need help, and this is the only place
that
can help us."

They trudged on, through the heavy mud that was the beaten track that
led
through the forest. They were going to a place that none of them
desired to
go to: thinking about it almost made them sick. But it was necessary.
Oh so
necessary.
 
 

He stirred exhaustedly on his bed and managed to open his eyes. Morning
light
flooded his vision and blinded him, and he quickly shut them again.
Once more
he stirred, and then gave out a groan as he settled back down to go to
sleep
again.

It was then when he heard the loud knocking. He sighed, and tiredly
said,
"Who's there? And what flaming time do you call this?"

A rather timid yet agitated voice replied, "A Soldier. With a message
from
the M'Hael." He paused, then continued with a triumphant sound in his
voice,
"And it's 10'o'clock!"

"Blood and bloody ashes," he cursed beneath his breath, and then he
spoke
loudly to the messenger outside the door. "I'm coming in a minute! Just
let
me get bloody dressed!"

10'o'clock?! What time was it when he went to bed...? It had been dark
for
sure. His limbs still ached from the vigorous dancing last night, which
had
obviously continued into the small hours. He quickly got out of bed and
began
hurriedly pulling on his clothes. Sounds of heavy breathing could be
heard
from outside the door.

Then he remembered Andraia. That foolish woman had gone and got herself
drunk
last night...and he'd had to carry her to her room, before she fell and
did
herself any damage. She was going to have a bad headache today, that
was for
sure. He really ought to go and see her...after he had received this
message.

He finished buttoning up his long black cloak and opened the door.
Standing
there was a small Soldier, looking down at the ground, tapping his foot
and
with a scowl on his face. When he heard the door open he hurriedly
looked up,
thrust the message into his hand, and then quickly walked away.

As Stevan closed the door, slightly stunned by the messenger's
abruptness, he
walked back towards his bed, and opened up the message in his hand. It
read,
"See me before midday." The scrawl at the bottom read, "Mazrim Taim."

The first thought that entered his head was "before midday." He'd
better go
there now...Andraia would have to wait. As he walked through the
corridors of
the Black Tower, thoughts fluttered through his mind. What did the
M'Hael
want? Maybe just to tell him that his promotion to
Tsorovan'm'hael...and a
high ranking Tsorovan'm'hael...was just a joke? Or maybe another
mission...?
Oh light, no, please may it not be that. Wasn't there any time to rest
at
this place?

Eventually he came to the M'Hael's office, and he stopped outside and
collected his thoughts. Taim always unsettled him, and thinking about
what
this meeting was about made him even more so. He took a deep breath and

knocked, and the familiar gruff voice answered, "Come in."

The room hadn't changed overnight - it was just the same as yesterday,
when
Taim had surprisingly told him that he was being promoted to
Tsorovan'm'hael.
But there was a difference. Two women stood by his side in the corner,
dressed in an exotic costume that he could only name as Sea Folk. But
what
were they doing here? His thoughts were interrupted as the M'Hael
motioned
for him to sit down.

Stevan cautiously sat down, his nervous eyes twitching constantly from
the
two women to the M'Hael. "Greetings Stevan. Good to see that you
managed to
get out of bed." Taim gave a smirk, and then continued in a more
serious
tone. "Last night these two women arrived at the Tower after travelling
for
two weeks through the country. To be exact, Sea Folk women. They have
come to
ask for our help." Stevan sighed inwardly. Another mission.

Taim motioned towards one of the women. "Jumai, would you like to tell
your
story?"

The taller Sea Folk woman wearing more earrings and medallions than the
other
took a deep breath and began to speak. "It all began..."
 
 

Corain had heard that the air was fresh after a storm, and it certainly
was
today. Unlike the turbulent skies of last night, covered in dark cloud,
with
rain lashing heavily at anything it touched, the sky was now a deep
blue,
with white fluffy clouds decorating it with colour. The air tasted
salty, and
smelt of the nearby sea, as he walked down the beaten coastal track
down to
the beach.

He always came down to the beach after a storm, ever since he was a
small
boy, clinging on to his father's hand. Interesting debris, carried by
the
waves could always be found then, washed up upon the shore. His father
was
now dead, but he still came down here, alone.

The beach was long, and full of white sand. The water was a deep blue,
deeper
than the sky, yet clear and beautiful. If you took a boat out, you
could
often see the fish swimming gracefully beneath it. However, the stretch
of
white against blue was interrupted by a dark object lying upon the
beach.
This was what he had come for...he squinted, yet couldn't yet make out
what
it was.

He walked across the beach, the object becoming clearer and clearer as
he
came nearer. First, the shape focused into a cylinder, about two feet
long
and half a foot in diameter, and it appeared to be made out of stone.
When he
reached it, he tentatively lifted it to examine the carvings closer. It
was
heavy, yet not as heavy as stone would have been. The texture also
seemed
smoother than stone...perhaps it was from the Age of Legends...?

The cylinder was split into three parts by two straight lines carved
all the
way around its diameter. In those three sections were carved many
symbols,
none of which were recognisable, even to him. An interesting find, he
thought, as he carried it back to his small cottage.
 
 

The land was drawing nearer now, and Deima let go of the threads of air
that
were assisting the ship upon its course - they needed to steer into the

harbour now.

The sun was high in the sky, and the blue waters off the coast of
Tremalking
reflected the midday sun into her eyes, and she squinted. Through the
narrow
opening in her eyes, she could see the familiar sight of the harbour
approaching - the long wooden platform next to the large warehouse,
where
goods were loaded and unloaded. The village of the Amayar lay behind,
the
small houses spread far apart and surrounded in greenery.

As they began to dock, a strange feeling enveloped her...her head was
aching
with an ever-increasing pain...she seized sweet...oh so sweet
saidar...and a
huge pain washed over her. She screamed.
 
 

"...and therefore, every Windfinder who has landed on Tremalking has
sickened
and a madness has overcome them," Jumai finished.

Taim turned to face Stevan again, "I think, Tsorovan'm'hael, your
duties are
clear. These women have asked for our help: to stop this sickness. I
recommend that first you go and take a look at this ter'angreal - for
that is
what it obviously is - yourself. After that, you will have the
information
you need to find a cure for this madness - which might be dangerous."
Taim
was always direct, and no degree of uncertainty ever entered his
speech.

Taim continued, "Take Haza and Maelstrom, and Travel to Tremalking -
Jumai
will tell you of a secluded place." Again he gestured towards the
taller Sea
Folk woman...but this time both of them looked decidedly uncomfortable.

Stevan was used to this reaction amongst people when men channeling
was
mentioned.

He was just about to stand up and leave when a thought suddenly occurred
to
him. "M'Hael, I will not be able to take any Dragonsworn, for if I do,
they
will sicken too."

Before Taim could answer, the smaller Sea Folk woman, who had until now
been
silent, spoke. "An Aes Sedai lives on Tremalking, who...hasn't been
affected.
She...doesn't know about the sickness yet." Stevan nodded...the Sea
Folk
guarded the knowledge that their Windfinders could channel vigorously.
But
still he was uncertain - why did this ter'angreal only affect the Sea
Folk...?
 
 

Asha'man and Dragonsworn alike gathered in the large clearing that was
usually used for training. Stevan stood at the front, with Alan,
Tareena,
Myiona, Mura'shar and Andraia (whose hangover had now cleared) - the
other
leaders - at his side. Silence fell as he began to speak. "The orders
are
clear. We gate to Tremalking, and investigate in the area where the
ter'angreal was found. You may tour any of the nearby villages,
searching for
information, but by nightfall you should all return to the inn where
we'll be
staying." With that, Stevan opened the gateway and motioned for the
Storm
Teams to go through.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------

There you go! I'm fully aware that the beginning to this RP is much too

similar to the last one, but we'll only be looking for information
there for
a week - next weekend I hope to be on the ship. Look around, talk to
wise
women, find out anything you can that hints that the ter'angreal comes
from
the Land of Madmen - remember, we don't even know that it exists yet!!!

There's a meeting on at the usual time - Monday 6pm PST, 9pm EST, in HREF="aol://2719:2-2-The%20Black%20Tower">The Black Tower
 

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

 Ariana woke quickly, mostly because of the pounding on her door.
"What...?"
she managed, and got a shouted reply.  "Hurry up and pack!  We're going
on
another mission!  Meet at the usual place, and rush it!"  "Umm...."
Ariana
groaned.  She had spent too much time sitting around playing music last

night; she was still tired and wanted nothing more than to sleep.  New
rule:
all crises must not occur until after 10:00, and  notification is
required 24
hours in advance, she thought facetiously, then, ugh, humor this early
in the
morning?  Nonetheless, she rose quickly enough and hobbled about
getting
ready.  Fortunately she hadn't had a lot of time to unpack so most of
her
stuff was still ready to go.  She assembled the few things that were
scattered around and went downstairs to figure out where "the usual"
place
was.
It was easy to find, by the large-and-growing number of people in it.
She
slipped through the crowd to get near the front.  She listened with
growing
interest as the tale unfolded, of a strange ter'angreal and a sickness
that
struck only Sea Folk.  Illness, of whatever sort, would invariably get
her
attention.  This was unlike anything she'd ever heard of, too, whether
in the
annals of the Yellow Ajah or the even older collection of notes on
various
ter'angreal.  She wondered idly for a moment why someone would make a
ter'angreal that caused pain when one tried to channel, then snapped
her
attention back to the speaker in time to learn that she was going to
get
another experience at Gating again.  Well, at least that's a plus; I'll
get
to see how it's done, if an Aes Sedai does it.  And I'll get to skip a
very
long sea voyage!  Though she did not get seasick, she hated water
travel
because the motion of the ship made it virtually impossible for her to
walk.
When the meeting was over, she went back to her room and set her stuff
in a
neat pile by the door, ready to go, and went to find out what was for
breakfast- and anything else she could discover about this most
intriguing
illness.

he he, this is going to be right up a yellow's alley!  Let's go!

 Andraia slowly opened one eye, only to slam it shut with a
heart-rending
groan.  Her head was pounding and her stomach felt as though a parade
had
tramped it's way through, leaving footprints and trash behind.  In
short, she
wanted to die.  She truly, sincerely wanted to die.  Pulling the
covers over
her head, she tried to go back to sleep.  The sun was even more painful
than
usual, even through the covers, and it refused to give her mercy.
    *I'm going to die,* she thought miserably, *Truly going to die.
And at
the moment, I'm not certain I care...*
    Stevan, when he walked in a short while later, didn't express the
same
sentiments.  He also neglected to express any sympathy whatsoever.
    "It's your own fault, you woolheaded woman," he told her as she
wrenched
the covers out of her grasp, ignoring the pained cries, "You went and
got
drunk.  Now you're paying for it.  Get up, we have new orders from the
M'Hael.  You have a quarter candlemark to meet the rest of us down at
the
field we usually use for training, or I'll come up and march you down.

Dressed or not."  For a moment his face softened with pity, and he
pulled a
bag out of his belt.  "Here.  Boil these in some water and they'll help
your
headache."  He smiled at her, and then he was gone.  Andraia groaned
again,
but stood up and pulled on a dress, the precious bag clutched in one
hand.
If it would take the woodsmiths out of her head it wasn't getting out
of her
sight.

    A quarter candlemark later she was in the training field, standing
next
to her bondmate, who had given her an encouraging smile.  He had
probably
felt the edges of her head pain through the bond, so his generosity
with the
herbs may not have been entirely selfless...
    She glanced around as he began speaking.  The rest of the Storm
Team was
assembled, which meant that the orders from the M'Hael were probably
another
mission, much like the last.  She drew her hood over her head, shading
her
delicate skin as Stevan outlined the mission.
    "The orders are clear. We gate to Tremalking, and investigate in
the area
where the ter'angreal was found. You may tour any of the nearby
villages,
searching for information, but by nightfall you should all return to
the inn
where we'll be staying." With that, Stevan opened the gateway and
motioned
for the Storm Teams to go through.
    Andraia stepped through the gateway with the rest of the Storm
Team, then
hung back and waited.  Stevan was the last to pass through the gateway,

closing it behind him.  She touched his arm as the gate closed, a smile

appearing on her icy pale features.
    "Thank you." she said simply, then turned to follow the others.  He
knew
what she meant, so further words were unnecessary.  She wasn't one to
waste
words... when she was sober, anyway.

Andraia Korinth

 Myiona awakened early, as usual, as was already dressed when the
knock
came on the door.  After being told of the new mission, leaving as soon
as
possible, she awakened her bondmate.  "Mura'shar," she said sweetly,
"we have
another mission.  Stevan will brief us out on the practice grounds.  We
are
to get our things packed and get out there quickly."
    He crawled from the pallet, which seemed a bit more mussed than
usual.
"It seems there is always something to get us up early after a late
night,"
he growled with a yawn.  "Maybe I should stay here this time.  I think
I am
coming down with a cold or something."
    "The only thing you are coming down with is a foul mood," Myiona
teased
him.  "I don't know why you were so upset last night.  I did save you
one
dance.  It is your own fault that you got to the party so late that I
had
already promised all of the other dances away."
    He mumbled something and went about his morning routine.  Myiona
had her
things packed and had straightened up the room before he was finished.
"I
think I should go grab us some breakfast," she said.  "Why don't you
take
both of our bags outside and I will meet you there."  She touched his
face
and gave him a quick kiss before heading to the kitchen.
    She was smiling as she walked down toward the kitchen.  ~Men,~
Myiona
thought, ~if you give them too much attention they run, and if you give
them
too little they complain.  How was I supposed to know he would even
show up?
He has been getting more responsibility at the tower and that seems to
keep
him busy.  In fact he has been so busy that I rarely see him except at
night.
 Then he is so tired he goes right to sleep.~
    Myiona was so lost in thought that she rounded the corner and
nearly
bumped into . . .

Vicky
aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 Eamon did not get a wink of sleep the night before, his mind
wandered as he lay trying to sleep.  He had made a short appearance at
the party but decided it better to be gone from there.  It was a
growing concern that he was being avoided by some.  Thus he found
himself slumped on a table, looking into a cup of something, kaf he
believed.  People had found it left over from the Seanchan and had begun
selling it.  All he knew was it kept you awake so that was good.
    Mission orders had arrived this morning, way too early by his
thoughts.  After being awaken he threw on some clothes and parked
himself on a table in the kitchen.  Hoping to grab a little rest before
they left.  Eamon's black cloak lay beside him on the bench.
    Standing up he stretched, and started to walk, somewhere vaguely
toward the meeting spot for the gating, the courtyard.  As he walked he
threw his cloak around himself.  Picking up the pace, he walked around
a corner.  He almost ran into someone, but instead avoided the person
to find himself sprawled on the floor.  Slowly he started to look up at
the person he had almost hit into, feeling very foolish.  He looked to
see a Dragonsworn, he couldn't think of her name.  His memory had been
very bad lately, he couldn't remember some things in his past, such as
his first days here.  It all seemed a blur.  Struggling to his feet, he
believe her name was My.... something.
    Finally speaking he said, "Good morning Dragonsworn.."

o==={==============>
Ed
Eamon Tamdrell
Marked Asha'man of the Black Tower
K.O.T.L.
Captain of Soldiers
Sower of Chaos
Blood of Arafel and Malkier

 Myiona was so lost in thought that she rounded the corner and
nearly
bumped into a tall Asha'man who looked like he was from Arafel.  "Good
morning Dragonsworn," he said finally.
    "Good morning Asha'man," Myiona said with a smile.  "I do not think
we
have met before.  I am Myiona Shallon."
    "I am," he paused and seemed to be thinking of something else,
"Eamon
Tamdrall.  It is an honor to meet you."  He smiled, but his eyes
remained
cold and hard.
    Myiona took a step back.  "I am on the way to the kitchen to get
some
food for the journey," she said.  "I doubt most of those assembled
thought
about getting something to eat.  I will make sure to get enough for
everyone
and to get some extra supplies in case we need them."
    She stood looking at him for a moment.  "Asha'man," she asked, "is
something wrong?  I do not mean to pry, but I get the feeling that
something
is bothering you.  If you need someone to talk to or need help working
it
out, I would be glad to help you."
    His eyes widened and then he replied, "Nothing is wrong.  If you
will
excuse me?"  He walked off quickly as if he was running from her.
    Myiona shook her head and walked quickly down to the kitchen and
ordered
the supplies they needed.  She stopped to pack a basket for breakfast.

Inside she put bread, cheese, sliced meats, and fruit.  After that she
headed
to the courtyard to wait with the others.

Vicky
aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 Eamon had rushed out from the encounter with Myiona,  it worried
him that she questioned if anything was wrong.  Truly he had been
spending too much time thinking about things, but now was too far.
Eamon stiffened up mentally, focusing on the goal intended.  "No more
worrying," he thought, "it is time I go with the flow for awhile, and
react accordingly."  Exiting the kitchen, he threw up his hood,
blocking his face from view.
    The Courtyard was ahead, several members of the Black Tower stood
waiting.  Eamon stopped suddenly, he blinked and thought, "what is he
trying to do, ruin everything,"  for there amongst the people stood his
brother.  Eamon cursed silently and turned sharply down a walkway.  By
shadow he swiftly entered a building adjacent to the courtyard.
thinking, "its over, the fool, all the plans, the endless nights for no
result, the fool had just blown it.  Now it was time for him to die,
and maybe he could save something out of the plan."
    Eamon ran the stairwell going up and up, finally reaching the roof.
 As he reached the roof, Fire and Ice were free of their sheaths.  The
swords gleamed in the sun as he went to the ledge to look down on his
brother.  Saidin was noticeable in ko'di, yet he did not draw, not yet
anyway.

OOC: hate do to do this to you, but Part II will come later have a
class now, sorry :); I guarantee it will be a long one too, and I am
sorry to throw this in out of the blue but I feel this is a good time
for the change to begin. Part II coming by 3:30 hopefully:)
Ed

 Mura'shar grumbled to himself as he finished packing their
belongings.
There was something inherently wrong with starting a mission right
after an
all-night party.  Not that he had much to do with that party.
    After that strange nightmare he and Myiona went through, Mura'shar
had
come away somewhat rattled from the experience.  He was glad to see
Myiona
had recovered so well, but he had spent much of that evening off by
himself,
thinking of how helpless he had been.  He couldn't save himself, let
alone
Myiona.  At least one other person was as uninterested in the dance.
For a
time he was sure he heard some sort of harp off in the distance, away
from
the party.
    Eventually he made an appearance at the festivities.  Myiona was,
of
course the life of the party.  .  He wasn't upset at that.  Exactly.
There's
more to a dance than Dancing.  He talked.  He had that one dance. He'd
had a
drink, or two, or three, he really couldn't remember any more.  That
noisy
sunlight was making it impossible to think.
    Now here he was. Tired, hung over, grumpy, and about to risk life
and
limb yet again.  You are definitely not a morning person he thought to
himself as he struggled with his and Myiona's bags.
    As they assembled in the courtyard, he saw that Myiona had packed
some
food for the trip.  The thought made his stomach rumble, but Stevan had

arrived and was explaining the next mission.
    Tremalking.  That's awfully close to Seanchan territory.  And we're

messing with ter'angreal with unknown properties.  Mura'shar wasn't so
hungry
anymore.

Jake
Baijan'm'hael

 Eamon could his brother below him, talking to one of the members of
the Black Tower, one of his brothers," he thought suddenly.  Eamon could
not remember the last time he had thought that way about the Black
Tower.  A long time since he had called the Black Tower his family.
Swishing that thought from his mind, he raged silently, they are the
enemy, Chaos is my only companion, my only brother.  His knuckles grew
white as he gripped his swords in anger.  Saidin grew ever present and
he was about to let loose his fury.
  An image popped into his mind as he was about to let loose his rage.
He saw himself but blurred by a murky darkness, like a desolate bog.
Then he saw himself break free.  The image only flashed for an instant,
before rage overshadowed it.
  Eamon could see the majority of the members going on the mission now
arriving.  He looked down to see Ivan entering the courtyard, his
memory began to break through.

Ed
OOC: Part III coming tonight

 Ariana was startled to find a black-coated man standing in her room as
she
entered, but she didn't show it.  She simply curtsied, murmured, "Yes,
Asha'man?" and waited.
"Novitiate Ariana, you are to be promoted to Dragonsworn this night,
at..."
She did not hear the rest.  Her mind spun.  Me?  Promoted?  A
Dragonsworn!?!!?
  Light!  I'm not ready, I'm not... I'm nervous!  I haven't been here
long
enough!  I'm not old enough!  I'm...going to be raised!!!  Wild
emotions that
made no more sense than her disjointed thoughts flooded her.  She
showed none
of it on the outside, but she didn't hear a word of the rest of the
Asha'man's speech.  She made her curtsy automatically when he stopped
speaking, but was still staring at where he had been standing when he
left.  L
ight!  Raised!!  Suddenly she realized that she was standing in her
room,
staring at a wall.  She whirled around and went to search her packs for

something to wear.  And they already had me pack!  I guess I'll get to
see
how well I can iron a dress with the Power.  She launched into a fury
of
preparations, her mind still spinning like a children's top.  Light!!

 "Tareena, I know that I.."  whatever Darren was about to say next
was
swallowed up in the laughter that burst through the trees into the
small
garden where they stood.  Aramis stood at the entrance to the garden,
with
his back to the couple.  Raising his voice, he lofted good natured
insults to
someone or something unseen, down the path.  Tareena felt Darren
withdraw his
hand.  He doesn't want to be seen touching me in front of anyone, she
thought
to herself.  I wonder what he was going to say?  Probably something I
didn't
want to hear, he just wanted to break it to me gently.  Well, I am not
going
to stand around and just let him hurt me!  Not stopping to realize how
completely irrational her thought process was, Tareena began walking
towards
Aramis, not turning to see the surprised look and hurt upon her
bondmates
face.
     "Aramis, who are you yelling at?" Tareena asked the Asha'man.
Aramis did
a sudden turn around to face her.  "Oh, hello Tareena, what are you
doing out
here..oh, hello Darren, I am sorry, I didn't see you there.  I hope I
didn't
interrupt anything?"
    "No, you didn't interrupt anything.  In fact, I was just leaving.
I am
tired and I need to get some sleep, who knows what tomorrow may bring.

Goodnight Tareena, goodnight Aramis."  With that, she watched him leave
the
garden.     Tareena could feel anger coming through the bond.  What
does he
have to be angry about?  Is he mad at me?  What could I have possibly
done?
He's the one who abruptly left me here.
     "Well, Tareena, it looks like just you and I.  would you like to
go back
to the dance?  Tareena knew that Aramis was just being polite, besides
she
was tired and wanted to go to her room.  "No, but thank you, I
appreciate the
offer.  Take care and have a good evening."  With that, she left the
garden,
vowing not to return to this particular place at the tower for a long
time.
     Once in her room, she let the tears finally come.  I will never
understand feelings.  How can I be so messed up one minute and so
certain the
next.  For a minute there I thought he was going to....oh I don't know
what I
thought but then...oh well.  Sleep was a welcome relief from her
tortured
thoughts.

     The next morning Tareena stood out in the training field, speaking
with
the novitiates and the initiates.  Most of them had never been on a
mission and
were somewhat nervous.  Tareena had went from room to room, helping
each to
pack and to make sure they weren't taken to much or not enough.  One in

particular, Sarendha, seemed especially nervous.  Tareena had liked the
girl
from the start so she spent some extra time with her, coaching her on
what
she needed to do.  Sarendha stood beside her now, waiting for orders,
like
the rest.  Tareena noted that all of the members of both Storm Teams
had
finally gathered and were ready to embark.   Stevan opened the gateway
and
the two teams began to go through the gateway, into Tremalking.
     Tareena was the last to go through the gate, along with her
bondmate and
two other Asha'man.  Tareena took one last look behind her, as the gate
closed.  I wonder if we will ever see it again?

 Eamon could see the majority of the members going on the mission
now
arriving.  He looked down to see Ivan entering the courtyard, his
memory
began to break through.
    Eamon knelt on the ground, snow flurried around him.  Tears tumbled
down
his face, sadness griped his heart like an iron talon.  Shivering he
mumbled
between tears, "To be normal, I only want to be normal."
    Then it blurred, Ivan stood in front of him looking upon him.  He
began,
"Eamon look around you, who do you see, you see the members of the
Black
Tower."  Eamon nodded, but Ivan spoke again, "No you don't."  Eamon
shrugged
in confusion.  Then Ivan continued, "You see your brothers and sisters,
your
family is the Black Tower, you are our brother, Eamon, and we are all
like
you.  Yes, many have said those same words, yet you must face them and
go by
them.  Many count on us in this fight against evil, you must go on no
matter
what.  You have been given a skill Eamon, use it."  The image faded.
    Eamon looked upon the members of the ..... no, his family, no they
are
his enemy.  Eamon internally fought one part of him said they were
enemy
another family.  Eamon could not take it any longer, a guttural roar
erupted
from his mouth.
    Ivan, Stevan, Talia, Aramis, everyone in the courtyard looked up,
and
then his brother did.  "Yes, brother, it is time, you have failed me
not the
other way," Eamon shouted.
    His brother looked up, a gleam in his eye and embraced saidin.
Lightning
struck near the spot where Eamon had stood.  Eamon had already moved,
slinking into the shadows.  Eamon crept along the roof, getting to
place
where he could get to the ground.  His brother called out, "Come out
from
where you are hiding you fiend!"
    Eamon climbed down the wall on the back of the house, Slipping
around to
the side, he saw his brother, he was alone.  Eamon walked toward him
and
said, "Where is everyone?"
    "There," he pointed, Eamon's gaze following his pointing finger.  A
huge
battle was in the making, Black Tower members stood head to head with
shadowspawn.  "No, no not this way," Eamon yelled, "why, why brother?"

    "It is the only way Eamon, you are mine now, truly mine now," his
brother
said.  Then a sword was at his neck, his brother said, "But I don't
want a
failure, your price is death."
    A shout came the jumble of shadowspawn and Black Tower members, his

mother and father came running from the fray, his mother and father??
They
abruptly exploded and a tear formed on Eamon's eye, his brother looked
to
him, "yes brother I know what you think, but now you are truly mine,
remember
that Eamon or this will come true, and this I tell you."  His brother
cutoff
and his laughter echoed in his head.
    Eamon jolted awake, he sat on a stone wall in the courtyard waiting
to
gate to Tremalking.  Eamon felt afraid, very afraid.
 

O==={===========>
Ed
Eamon Tamdrell
Marked Asha'man of the Black Tower
Captain of Soldiers
Keeper of the Lists
Dark-cloaked Sower of Chaos
OOC: Surprise, surprise, changed my mind about doing this RP, made it a
dream
sequence didn't want to break the timeline.

 Alcinia awoke feeling like her head was pounding and pounding.  She
sat
up in the bed and put her hands over her ears.  She knew that drinking
the
mugs of ale had been a mistake, and now she was paying the price.
    It took her a few moments to realize that the pounding was
continuing and
it was not all in her head.  "Coming," she muttered as she crawled out
of
bed.  A wave of nausea rose, but she fought it down and opened the
door.
"What is it?"
    A young man stood at the door.  "Your group is going on a mission,"
he
said.  "You are to get packed and meet the others in the courtyard."
With
that he turned and walked away.
    Alcinia shut the door and grabbed her head.  "I knew I should not
have
drunk that ale last night," she lamented.  "I had heard of people being
hung
over, but never imagined it would feel like this."
    She remembered someone handing her the first mug and urging her to
drink.
 She was proven to Dragonsworn, along with Ariana, in the middle of the

dance.  She had been happy and wanted to celebrate.  Now she wished she
was
dead.
    Alcinia packed quickly, throwing everything she owned in a large
bag.
She grabbed the bag and hurried to the courtyard.  She stood near the
back of
the gathered group and tried to appear normal, but knew she looked
horrible.

Alcinia

 Myiona passed out the breakfast items before they headed through
the
gateway.  She noticed that Alcinia looked a little green and asked if
she had
been drinking at the dance.  Alcinia admitted her overindulgence and
her hang
over.
    Feeling sympathy, Myiona embraced the source and dulled the
headache and
nausea.  "I am not going to make it totally go away," she said.  "You
need to
remember how this felt so you do not act so foolishly again,
Dragonsworn
Alcinia."
    As they rode through the gate, Myiona tried to eat a little of the
food
she had set aside for herself.  "You should eat too," she told
Mura'shar.  "I
am not going to stop and pick you up if you fall over from hunger.  I
can
hear your stomach growling from here."  She handed him a piece of bread
and
cheese.
    The other side opened near Tremalking.  The group quickly separated
into
the two Storm Teams.  As the Haza group rode off in one direction,
Maelstrom
awaited directions from Alan.

Vicky
aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 Alan had been quiet all day.  At least toward her.. not like she
cared.
~Stop fooling yourself, girl.. You like him.. a lot.~  With a resigned
sigh,
Talia readied herself with the rest of the Tower.  Stevan was speaking
to
someone about the finalities of preparation.  Scanning the crowd with
her
green Saldean eyes, she saw all her acquaintances and many new
recruits
shuffling nervously about.  Urging Windrider forth with a small snap of
the
reigns, Talia surged forth in the crowd.

  Soon, Stevan opened the gateway to Tremalking, and Talia followed the
rest
of the Tower through.  Once there, the group separated into two.  Talia

awaited with her group for Alan's further instructions.  She pet
Windrider's
mane while she waited, trying to forget the foolishness last night.

~Talia Daimar
~Dragonsworn
<><

 When all the travelers were assembled, Ariana watched as the gate was
opened
to take them to Tremalking.  Bless the things!  she thought fervently.
They
made avoiding water travel so much easier- though she knew they would
end up
going by boat later on.  Still, at least it wasn't now, so she could
deal
with it later.  She saw the other new Dragonsworn, Alcinia, was looking
as
though she had had a little too much to drink at the ceremony.  She
winced in
sympathy, since she knew the woman was in terrible pain no doubt.  She
could
offer to fix it later, if no one else did.  Ariana herself avoided
drinking
like she did Whitecloaks; she was none to steady on her feet dead
sober, so
why make the situation worse?
The gate opened in a widening slice of light, and the members of the
Black
Tower began to pour through in orderly-enough fashion.  She followed
whoever
was ahead of her, and found herself standing in a place that was
definitely
not the grounds of the Black Tower.  The sun was at a different angle-
and
the air smelled of salt water.  Tremalking, then; they had gotten here
with
no problems.  Idly she wondered if they would see the great sa'angreal
that
was mostly-buried here; Ariana wondered if it still worked- not to
mention
why it could be buried on an island far from its twin.  She shook her
head to
clear it, and redirected her attention to the gate, just in time to see
it
snap closed.  We're on our way.

OK, we're going.  No more dallying, people, let's have fun!
:::laughs:::
See, we can so get it done by Fri!  Wow, I've managed to do something
on
time!!  ::jumps excitedly:::  wow, I don't think I've done that in
ages!
(Even if it is only a virtual trip to an island- it's a start!)
To more timely RPs~
~Erin

 Alan had stayed up all night thinking.  He had been a fool, why
ask
her that question.  She clearly did not want to be his bondmate...the
young
Asha'man had only made a fool of himself.  Taking a breath he decided to
go
back to his room and get his things ready for the journey tomorrow.
Maybe
the busy work would help to ease his embarrassment.  ((the next day))
    Gathering around the practice yards Alan was distant.  He was among

friends, among family, yet he felt like something was different.
Noticing
that Steven had opened the gateway, Alan grabbed the reins of his horse
and
urged him through the gateway.  Once on the other side he waited for
the
rest of Storm Team Maelstrom.  In a couple of minutes they were
gathered
around, Talia was in the back and he could not get a good look at her
face.
Speaking up, he gave some orders.  They were heading in the opposite
direction as Steven to see if they could come across
this...thing...from two
different directions.  "Mura'shar, I want you to take your bondmate,
Aramis
and one other Dragonsworn and scout ahead.  Make sure you are aware of
any
female channeling. Anything that emanates the power I want a report of
immediately.  The rest of us will continue at a slower pace behind you.
We
will look for the smaller things, I just want you to make sure nothing
comes
at us unawares and to give us warning if something dangerous lies
ahead.  If
you come across trouble send a signal back to us, by either messenger
or the
power.  If anyone else would like to go with them let me know now."
Alan
waited for anyone to answer his summons.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hey y'all, I have been really busy sorry for the lack of rps lately but
the
last email Miya sent out was during the dance so sorry for the
confusion.
Well, I am off to practice, check ya later
Joe

 Talia listened as Alan spoke, and all she could think about was last
night.  He gave Mura’shar a task and bestowed that task to his bondmate
and
one other Dragonsworn.  Talia sighed to herself.  She couldn't deny it
anymore than she could her other faults.  Shaking her head, scolded
herself
for being such a moron.  She resolved to tell him how she felt before
they
parted.  As he waited for questions, Talia urged Windrider onward.
Galloping on the outskirts of the group toward Alan, she stopped right
there
beside him.  She was quiet for a moment before she could bring herself
to
speak.. and even then she couldn't make herself say what was really on
her
mind.

  "Travels are always taken with the attitude that, hopefully, it will
be
routine and no one will get hurt,"  Talia began, "As much as it would
probably be advantageous to the Tower for me to scout ahead with
Mura’shar, I
must say that I have to stay with you.  I don't trust anyone else to
watch
your back.  Besides, if you got hurt while I wasn't there to watch your
back
for you, I'd never forgive you for it."  Talia said that all, managing
to
keep the choking sound out of her throat.  Her hands fastened tightly
to
Windrider's reigns, she waited to see what he would say.  Would she
ever be
able to tell him that she was sorry for turning him down so coldly last

night?

~Talia Daimar
~Dragonsworn
<><

 Tareena gently patted her horses mane, trying to calm it and
herself.
Going through a gateway was never easy and her mount was skittish.
Tareena
had never considered herself a horsewoman in the first place so it was
a
double hardship to get stuck with a less experienced mount.
     She stared at the group around her, wandering what each was
thinking.
The smell of salt water drifted to her nostrils.  She missed the sea,
it had
been a long time since she had been on the water.  The last time was
when I
bonded Darren.  No, I won't think about that now, there is to much at
stake.
Tareena cast a look over at her bondmate, out of the corner of her eye.
 He
was checking his saddle and gear, looking for any wear and tear.  At
least I
know that no matter what happens personally, he will be there to guard
my
back in times of battle.  He is a good bondmate, always mindful of his
duty
and willing to carry it out at all costs.  That is one of the things I
admire
in him.  He has taught me a lot, without realizing it.  Darren must
have felt
her gaze on him, or maybe it was the unconscious good thoughts
traveling
through the bond for he looked up at her in first surprise and then an
expression that she could not read.
     Stevan gathered to members of Haza around him.  "We are looking
for some
explanation as to why the Sea Folk Windfinders  are getting sick.
According
to Jumani, it is because of a Ter'angreal, which may or may not be the
case.
Ivan, La'rece and Janara travel the North road along the wharf and
surrounding areas. Callabein, Sarenda, Eamon, and Ariana, take the
West.
Talk with healers, medicine women, old villagers with long memories,
etc.
See if they had any knowledge of the symptoms of this supposed sickness
or if
anyone has been suffering from it's effects.  It may be just a simple
explanation, which has been overlooked.  Andraia, Darren, Tareena and I
will
go with Jumai to where the Ter'angreal is located and talk with the
Windfinders who are ill.  Maelstrom has spread out along the South road
and
further inland for the same reason.  We will all meet back here by
sundown."
    With a salute, the members each divided to follow orders.  Stevan
took
the lead with Darren scouting the rear.  Andraia and Tareena rode close

together, keeping an eye out but also discussing their destination.
Neither
woman had had much contact with the Sea Folk and were curious as to
there
customs and habits.  As they rode along, Tareena wondered with
trepidation
what was in store for them.

 When the dawn broke through the window and forced its way into
Caballein's
eyes, the first thing he noticed was the sheet of paper someone had
slipped
under the door. Stretching and trying to blink a few remnants of a dark
and
troubled dream from his eyes, he walked to the door and picked it up.
  It was simply written, stating only that Haza was to Travel to the
island
of Tremalking and investigate a strange malady among the islanders. He
half-turned to inform Morana of their new orders, before he
remembered...
  They rounded the corner, trying to appear inconspicuous, and ran
headlong
into a sul'dam holding a leash unattached to a damane. Caballein
mimicked the
bow he had seen the Seanchan make towards the sul'dam on several
occasions
since arriving in the city, saw Morana join him in bowing, but despite
their
obeisance the Seanchan woman met their eyes and moved directly towards
Morana.
  "She knows you can channel! Run!" he shouted, but before he could
seize at s
aidin and use it to hold the woman at bay he found himself shielded
from its
sickly light and held fast in place by bonds of Air. His eyes darted
towards
Morana, saw that she was in the same situation. No! Sul'dam can't
channel!
His mind raced. This is some nightmare! He strained against the bonds
of Air
that held him and beat wildly at the shield which kept him from the
Power
with... something.
  "Amusing as always, Macuebiyari," said a voice which he recognized
all too
well. Its source emerged from a doorway on the side of the street.
  "Omoide," snarled Caballein.
  "Pleased to see you too, of course." Omoide laughed. "You are
becoming
dangerous, you know. If things keep going along their current path, you
stand
a very real chance of escaping the fate which the Wheel has in store
for you.
And the Great Lord can't have that, now can he?"
  The Seanchan woman stepped forward and snapped the collar shut on
Morana's
neck. She started to speak, or scream, but the sul'dam's eyes went
briefly
unfocused, and Morana was silent after a sharp cry of pain. Visions of
her
life under Tor flashed through Caballein's mind, and he strained even
harder
to free himself.
  "The offer I made you in this Age during the last turning, and the
turning
before that, and every turning allt he way back to the First Moment
still
stands, Macuebiyari," Omoide told him. "Serve the Great Lord of the
Dark, and
she is yours."
  "I left your master behind," Caballein spat from between clenched
teeth.
"He no longer has power over me."
  Again, Omoide laughed. Caballein had never heard a sound he hated
more.
"You'd be very surprised. But for now, it seems you still have some
scrap of
resistance inside of you. The girl wil be waiting for you when you give
in."
He turned, and a gateway opened before him, whatever image might have
existed
beyond it masked by a gray swirl. He started to walk into it, but
turned and
looked back at Caballein. "Oh, and you won't need this anymore." He
wove saidi
n, and the bond between Caballein and Morana snapped like any other
severed
flow. And waving casually, he vanished into the gateway.
  The sul'dam cupped Morana's face in her hands. "You're a pretty one,
aren't
you, my pet? I think I shall call you Lara." Morana stared daggers at
her,
but the woman casually slapped her face. Caballein winced as best he
could in
his imprisoned state. The sul'dam continued as if nothing had happened.

"You'll learn respect, Lara. Eventually." She entered the gateway
behind
Omoide, dragging Morana behind her,and the gateway vanished.
  The bonds on Caballein abruptly dissolved, dumping him in an
unceremonious
heap in the street. He leapt towards where the gateway had been only
moments
before, trying to reconstruct its flows, but they had dissapated
completely.
Morana might have been in Shayol Ghul, in Seanchan, or on the moon for
all he
knew. She was gone.
  He sighed. He had had the time now to accustom himself to the fact
that she
was no longer there, inside his mind, but there remained an emptiness
inside
of him, something he had been unaware was filled until it had been
drained
and left as only a black void.
  All you have to do is renew your oaths to the Great Lord...
  He half-heartedly forced the thought down, but he knew that some
deeply
buried portion of his mind was considering it. You bloody fool! You
were just
bonded to her to make sure she wouldn't destroy the Tower or go running
back
to the Aes Sedai! It meant nothing! Of course. It had meant nothing.
There
was no need to go that far to get her back. If Omoide had even told the
truth
about that.
  He sighed and dressed himself. The golden dragon pin gleamed at him
almost
mockingly. He had been Proven to Asha'man, even called himself by that
name,
but was he truly worthy to be called a Guardian? Had he been able to
guard
Morana? Stop thinking about her, you bloody fool! You have a mission to
worry
about!
  He joined the procession which moved into the gateway to Tremalking.
He
kept to the rear of Haza, kept his eyes on the ground. If she were
here,
she'd be telling me to be happy. Finding some way to force me into it,
even.
Stop it!
  He had a brief hope as he passed through the gateway that it might
take
them to whatever destination Omoide had vanished to, but he dismissed
it
quickly; the probabilities were far too vastly against it. He stepped
through
the gateway, out of the Black Tower and Andor and onto the island of
Tremalking, crossing thousands of miles in a single step. She was gone;
she
had to be put behind him.
  There are oaths that can never be broken. He looked at the sword and
dragon
which rode on his collar, felt the empty space in his mind where the
bond had
been, heard the distinctive cry of a raven from somewhere above. Far
too many
of them.

 "Murashar, i want you to take your bondmate, Aramis and one other
Dragonsworn and scout ahead.  Make sure you are aware of any female
channeling. Anything that emanates the power i want a report of
immediatly.
    The rest of us will continue at a slower pace behind you.  We will
look
for the smaller things, i just want you to make sure nothing comes at
us
unawares and to give us warning if something dangerous lies ahead.  If
you
come across trouble send a signal back to us, by either messenger or
the
power.  If anyone else would like to go with them let me know now."
    Mura'shar nodded at the instructions and scanned the group for
another
Dragonsworn to take with him.  Myiona touched his arm and gestured to
Alcinia.  A good choice.  She has had experience in creeping about and
not
being seen, exactly the skills they would need.
    "Alcinia.  You'll be joining us, please."  The young woman stepped
forward and joined the other three, and they were off.
    The trip was uneventful for the most part.  The two Dragonsworn
concentrated on detecting any spark of saidar being channeled, or the
presence of a female channeler.  Mura'shar paid attention as we, as did

Aramis, he suspected, though he knew that any woman who channeled close

enough for him to get goose bumps was already too close for comfort.
     They traveled mostly in silence.  Occasionally one of them would
ride
ahead of the others to run reconassaince for this recon team.  But
nothing
happened.  Mura'shar was beginning to wonder if this had all been a
wasted
effort.  But better safe than sorry.
    Aramis rejoined them after a scouting trip.  "There's a small
fishing
village about a mile ahead"  he reported.  "The people there aren't Sea
Folk,
though.  They're short, and fair haired  he looked puzzled at that, and

continued "I couldn't get close, but they seemed worried, they were
boarding
up their houses, like a big storm was coming"
    Everyone looked up at the clear sky.  Hardly a cloud was in sight
and it
looked like it would stay that way for some time.  Mura'shar was about
to ask
a question when Alcinia's eyes widened "Mura'..."  she began
    Myiona started as well, and Mura'shar felt gooseflesh as the wind
started
to pick up.  Dirt and debris started lifting from the ground and spun
in a
tight circle centered on the group.  The winds grew stronger, catching
their
clothes as pebbles started cutting and their exposed flesh.
    Weaving a dome of Air around himself and Myiona, he ordered Aramis
and
Alcinia to do the same.  He turned to Myiona "Can you find her in
this?"  He
hoped to locate the woman quickly.   This windstorm was harmless.
Irritating, but not dangerous.  If she decided to intensify her
assault, they
may be forced to fight back and maybe kill her.  He would rather not
destroy
their fist real lead as soon as they found it.
      He considered sending Aramis or Alcinia back to the others, but
discarded it.  There was safety in numbers  "Find the woman!" he
shouted over
the wind.  "Alive, if you can.  And don't get seperated "

Jake
Baijan'm'hael

 Myiona felt Saidar being channeled as Alcinia said, "Mura' ..."
The
wind, nonexistent a moment before, suddenly was almost more than they
could
stay upright it.  The horses were prancing nervously, as if they too
knew
something unnatural was happening.
    Mura'shar wove a protective dome around them.  Aramis did the same.
 "Can
you find her in this?"  Mura'shar asked.
    Myiona was uncertain.  The weaves were fluctuating wildly, seeming
to
come from everywhere at once.  She concentrated and finally was able to

narrow the direction down.  She pointed down the road from which Aramis
had
come.
     "Find the woman!" Mura'shar shouted over the wind.  "Alive, if you
can.
And don't get separated."
    They set off down the road, Myiona keeping her mind totally on the
source
of the power.  She could see the village, but she was not heading
there.
They rode all the way to the water's edge and then up the beach.  There

seemed to be nothing nearby that could account for the knowledge that
the
channeler was nearby.  A lone figure, a woman, stood at the entrance of
a
darkened cave.  Around her glowed the sign of a woman touching the
source.

Vicky
aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 "Find the woman!" Mura'shar shouted over the wind.  "Alive, if you
can.
And don't get separated."
    Myiona was leading.  Alcinia tried to trace the power, but just
when she
seemed to find it she lost it again.  The rode toward the ocean, and
down the
beach.  A lone figure, a woman, stood at the entrance of a darkened
cave.
Around her glowed the sign of a woman touching the source.
    "We have to shield her," someone shouted, "cut her off from the
source."
The two domes merged into one and the four figures dismounted.
    "Link!" Myiona said.  "It is the only way."  Mura'shar took control
of
the link, directing the flow toward the woman, cutting her off from the

source.  She seemed to crumple and fall to the ground.  The storm
seemed to
melt away, leaving the day as bright as before.

Alcinia

 

              Looking down at her from his higher perch, Alan regarded this womans speaking to him.  The
           sun was bright and it silhoutted her with an unearthly glow.  His heart had jumped when she had
           approached him after giving the orders.  Maybe she did not hate him, maybe there was a
           chance, maybe.  Listening to her speach, Alan did not alter his facial expression.  Even though it
           was said in her...manner...he felt joy at the fact that she did in fact care for him.  Taking a breath,
           Alan could not hold it in anymore.  He let his face slip into a smile and it would not let go of its
           hold on his face.
              "Why M'Lady I would not want it any other way.  Know this, the same holds true for you."  He
           turned his horse around, giving Talia a mischievious wink and talked to Storm Team Maelstrom.
           "It is about time to start on our newest quest.  Keep your eyes open, and look for a good place to
           set up a home base.  I want all of you to pair up, and make sure you never lose sight of your
           partner.  Lets go."  With this said the storm team moved forward, following in the footsteps of
           their brethern who were scouting ahead.  Looking at the sky, it seemed a giant cloud of dust
           loomed on the horizon.
           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           Aieght, here we go, if you want we can stay together as one big group or separate into smaller
           groups.  Whatevers cool.  Well i am off to bed, check ya later.
           Joe

 It had been a long time since Xyranthes had left the Black Tower.
Stepping
out from the Gateway, with the wind blowing through his hair, the old
Cairheinian felt the weight of the ages lift off his shoulders for a
brief
moment. But the joy was all too soon surrendered to the burden that had

brought the Black tower to this shore. Tallinn brought the heavy box of
books
out from the clearing the Gateway had been formed in, and took out his
crowbar.
From inside a pocket within the black coat that marked him a servant of
the
Black Tower, Xyranthes drew a slim volume of indeterminate age.
Flipping
through it with the one power, he withdrew a piece of paper and a stick
of
charcoal from a pouch and began to take notes.
"Xyranthes," a voice asked from behind him, "could you come here
please?"

______________
Well, it's been a long time since I did an RP. Since I'm a bit lost in
the
new mix of our glorious tower (strange how the mighty have now fallen)
I
choose to let others lead me.

Peter
<><

 Crystinah followed the others through the gateway and onto the
island.
She looked around and sighed.  She could have used a bit more sleep
before
they came here . . .
    Mura'shar and Myiona with Aramis and Alcinia were to scout ahead.
Crystinah shook her head.  ~Great.  What are we supposed to do except
sit
back and be very bored?  How come every one else gets to have all the
fun?~
    Crystinah closed her eyes.  ~Well, perhaps I can live with being
stuck
here,~ she thought as she felt sleep overcome her.  A moment later, she
shook
herself awake and opened her eyes.
    It looked like the others were moving on now, so she'd better get
going
too.  She started following the other members of the Black Tower and
looked
towards where the scouting party were gone ahead of them.
    Crystinah's eyes widened.  ~What is that?~ she wondered at the
gathering
storm ahead of them.  "This isn't natural," she said to herself.  She
noticed
Kano come up behind her staring at the dust storm.  "It's not natural,"
she
heard herself say.
    Kano nodded.  Crystinah looked around.  Obviously others were
thinking
the same thing.  She sat back into her saddle and waited to see if they
were
going to do anything, or just stay in stride.

Karen
aka Crystinah

 Talia couldn't help but smile in return.  Though her smile probably
seemed
more sardonic than genuine, she truely felt as though her feelings were

understood and known.  Almost a relief to her wass the fact that Alan
would
probably not ask her to voice these feelings.  Moving her mount to trot
in a
pace matching Alan's,  Talia silently pondered what a bond with Alan
would
be like.  But, being the way that this Saldaean is, Talia would make
Alan
wait a while before she finally agreed.  Though, inside, she knew she
would
eventually.  She moved on, secure in the fact that feelings were
mutual, and
that Alan's back was safely covered by herself.

~Today's short RP was brought to you by~
~Talia Daimar
~Dragonsworn
~unbonded..... so far
played by
~TTT aka Miya~
~Bearer of the OOC Dunce Hat~
<><

 "Link!" Myiona said.  "It is the only way."  Mura'shar took control
of
the link, directing the flow toward the woman, cutting her off from the

source.  She seemed to crumple and fall to the ground.  The storm
seemed to
melt away, leaving the day as bright as before.
    Myiona hurried toward the woman and using the power assessed her
condition.  "Can you help her?" Mura'shar asked as he walked up behind
his
bondmate.
    Myiona sighed and replied, "I do not know.  She is very ill.  I
will try,
but I do not think I have the healing ability to deal with her
condition.
Maybe I can help her to hang on until we get back to the rest of the
group."
    The First Dragonsworn did what she could and then shook her head.
"It is
not enough," she said.  "I hope I can keep her alive until . . .  She
will
need to ride with me so I can help her."
    Within a few minutes, the small group was mounted and on their way
back
toward the main road.  Myiona rode, using all of her abilities to keep
the
woman alive.  She had not regained consciousness, which was good
considering
the damage she was capable of.
    When they reached the rest of the Maelstrom group, Myiona was
exhausted.
The woman was taken from her and others tended to her.  As she released
the
source, Myiona began sliding from the saddle.

Vicky
aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 Ariana saw as Myiona slid bonelessly from her saddle in the slump of
the
truly exhausted.  Whatever they had faced was not trivial, it seemed.
She
urged Tai'dari over to catch the Dragonsworn as she fell.  She missed,
but
Myiona's bondmate caught her.  Ariana vaulted to the ground, keeping
one hand
on the loop attached to her mount's saddle for stability.  "I'll
Refresh her,
if you want," she offered.  "I think I probably got more sleep than
anyone
else here."  He looked at the woman in his arms, and nodded.  Ariana
let go
of her horse and sighed deeply to prepare herself, then placed her left
hand
to Myiona's forehead and spun the weaves that would drain her tiredness
away.
 In a moment she was finished, and Myiona's eyes opened.  Ariana
smiled, and
remounted while Myiona's bondmate helped her back on her horse.  It's
not
much, but at least I'm useful for that; she thought as she climbed up
into
the saddle.  Aloud, she murmured, " 'Dari, I do wish you weren't so
tall."
The horse swung his head around to lisp at her sleeve, and she patted
his
brown-and-white nose.  Once aboard, she looked to see that her patient
was
doing all right. Myiona was fine, and seated on her mount as though she
had
never slipped off.  They caught back up to the group in a few strides.
 

OK, at least I'm useful now. being useful is good.  :::smiles:::  Hey,
what's
a Yellow for, if not healing>?  Now, let's go, having just given Myiona
the
Source equivalent of high-caffeine coffee...  =)

 "Link!" Myiona said.  "It is the only way."  Mura'shar took control
of
the link, directing the flow toward the woman, cutting her off from the

source.  She seemed to crumple and fall to the ground.  The storm
seemed to
melt away, leaving the day as bright as before
    Mura'shar was suppressed at the strength the woman had.  He didn't
think
any one of them alone could have shielded her.  But once she was
shielded,
all the strength seemed to go out of her and she collapsed.
    Myiona hurried to her side and examined her.  Mura'shar was right
behind
her.  "Can you help her?" he asked.  It would be generous to call his
own
Healing skills weak.
    Myiona sighed and replied, "I do not know.  She is very ill.  I
will try,
but I do not think I have the healing ability to deal with her
condition.
Maybe I can help her to hang on until we get back to the rest of the
group.
    It was soon obvious that Myiona's skills alone wouldn't be enough.
The
hurried back to the Storm Team with Myiona struggling the whole to keep
the
Atha'an Miere alive.  Mura'shar could sense the effort she was putting
into
her task and hoped she didn't overtax her abilities.
    When they reached the rest of Maelstrom, Stevan and the others took

charge of the woman.  As they left, Myiona started to tumble from her
saddle.
 Mura'shar dashed to her side and barely caught her in time.  Foolish!
She's
 pushed herself too hard.  He hoped she can get a little rest while the

others looked the prisoner over.  Ariana appeared at his side.  "I'll
Refresh
her, if you want," she offered.  "I think I probably got more sleep
than
anyone else here."
     He looked at the woman in his arms, and nodded.  He felt a chill
as
Ariana channeled.  Myiona's eyes opened and smiled at Mura'shar.  As he

helped her back on her horse, she whispered "It's always a pleasure to
wake
up in your arms"
    "Behave yourself" he whispered back and smiled.  "We're on duty"
Ariana
turned back to make sure Myiona was alright. Myiona had already resumed
her
air of authority.  No one would have guessed she had fallen over from
exhaustion moments earlier.
    Once they had caught up with the others, Mura'shar.  and Myiona
thanked
Ariana for her help, then went to find out how the prisoner, or maybe
patient, was doing.
    The woman was clearly Sea Folk.  She was tall, and had dark hair
and
skin.  She wore the typical loose vest and trousers and had several
earings
in each ear.   She'd have been considered beautiful in an exotic way if
she
wasn't so haggard. She had obviously been wandering about for some
time. She
was dirty, her clothes were worn, and she needed food. But more
importantly,
she needed Healing
    They found her amidst a number of Asha'man and Dragonsworn.  It
looked
like both saidar and saidin were in use as they feverishly tried to
save her
life.   She hadn't regained conciousness, but she was thrashing about
and
moaning, as if she was having a bad dream.  Occasionally, a word or two
was
intelligible, but made no sense.  "It burns...it burns" was the most
common
phrase.
    Mura'shar noticed that a Dragonsworn was maintaining a shield.
Remembering the woman's strength, he approved of the precaution, even
in this
semi-dream state she was in. Walking up to one of them, he asked "Do
you
think she has a chance?"
___________________________________

Please note, "it burns" doesn't necessarily mean anything, I just
thought it
sounded cool:)

Jake

 Alan watched the approach of the two Ashamen and the two
dragonsworn,
surely they knew the cause of that tremendous dust storm that had
abruptly
stopped only about an hour ago.  Looking closer he saw that they had
somebody with them.  She was slumped over the saddle of one of the
dragonsworn.  He started to feel a slight tingle in his arms telling
him
that someone was channeling.  When they reached the main group, they
stopped
and unloaded the woman down from the saddle.  Myiona faltered and
almost
fell to the ground before Murashar caught her.  Taking a breath, Alan
wondered what was going on.  Dismounting from his horse, he approached
the
woman.  She was definately Sea Folk, and seemed to be a windfinder.
Efforts
were being made to make sure she did not die.  Several members of the
Black
Tower were trying to heal her, male and female. Walking up to Alcinia,
Alan
asked her what happened.  After a brief account, Alan turned away from
the
young dragonsworn at the sound of a moan coming from the Sea Folk
woman.
She had awakened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Aieght, that is my 2 cents for now.  Well i am off to go make fun of
some
upperclassmen, check ya later.
Joe
It is all fun and games until someone loses an eye, then its fun and
games
in the dark.

 Being at the head of his four-strong group, Stevan was the first to see
the
village appearing in the distance. The huts were small and thatched,
and as
they drew nearer they could see the small Amayar staring at them -
obvious
strangers in dress and appearance.

When the village was only a stone's throw away, Stevan called a halt
and
quickly spoke to Tareena, Andraia and Darren. "Tareena, Andraia, I
think it
would be best if you visited the Windfinders. Being female channelers
yourselves, you should be able to understand them better than either
Darren
and I can. We'll go and look at the ter'angreal instead."

After a few quick words of parting, Stevan and Darren approached the
nearest
Amayar and asked him, "Excuse me...where is the object that was washed
up
from the storm?"

The man, obviously shocked at being spoken to stuttered as he replied,
"In
the...the...mayor's house...the town centre." The last few words were
rushed,
and as he finished speaking he hastily walked away.

Darren turned to Stevan. "Useful," he commented sarcastically.

The village wasn't large, so it only took them a few minutes to reach
the
town centre and find the mayor's house. Darren stepped up to the door
and
knocked twice. The door swung open with a creak, and a small man with a
gold
necklace asked nervously, "Yes?"

"We would like to have a look at the object that was found on the
beach," he
asked, although it was more of a demand.

The mayor's stutters of "No...I can't do that..." were quickly silenced
by
the two Asha'mans stares, and they were led inside. The mayor's house
wasn't
too much bigger than the other huts, but inside it was richly furnished
with
ornaments and expensive rugs, obviously from the Sea Folks' tradings.

They were led through the main room of the house, into a smaller room
at the
back, where in one corner a large cylinder of...stone? stood. Stevan
quickly
pulled Darren over. "This is it!" He then turned to the mayor. "Leave
us. We
won't steal it, so you needn't worry." The mayor gave them a furious
look,
then left.

The two Asha'man looked at each other, and then at the strange
cylinder,
covered in runes of many shapes and sizes, their lines entwining and
interweaving, flowing from one to the other..."Where shall we start?"
 
 

An hour later the ter'angreal had been thoroughly looked over, and the
strange runes that covered it had been scribed in the paper that Stevan
had
brought. They had even been brave enough to probe it with saidin, but
there
was nothing. Stevan turned to Darren, "Well, I don't recognise any of
these
runes. I had lessons in this sort of thing as a child...but none of
these
seems familiar...you don't recognise any do you?"

Darren shook his head and stood up, "Time to leave." Stevan followed
suit and
the two Asha'man placed the ter'angreal back in its corner, and left
the
room. They passed through the house, thanking the mayor as they left,
who
quickly rushed into the room to check if the ter'angreal was still
there. Funn
y man, he thought.

Outside waiting for them were Andraia and Tareena. "How did you know we
were
here?" asked Stevan, astonished.

"Just queried about your whereabouts," replied Tareena with a grin.
"Did you
find anything?" They showed the two Dragonsworn the runes, but neither
recognised them.

"We didn't find anything either," said Andraia, as they slowly left the

village. "The Windfinders were sick, mad, and it was impossible to hold
a
conversation with them. Looks like we'll go back empty handed..."
 

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

 Myiona opened her eyes and said, "It's always a pleasure to wake up
in
your arms."
    "Behave yourself," Mura'shar smiled and whispered.  "We're on
duty."
    Myiona, now back upon her horse, tried to stay upright in the
saddle.
She was conscious, but still very tired.  After thanking Ariana for her
help,
Myiona followed Mura'shar over to where the woman they had found was
being
tended to.
    Knowing the others would do all they could for her, Myiona relaxed
and
closed her eyes.  She was dozing when a jerk awakened her.  They were
moving
again.  Trusting in her bondmate to make sure the horse did not stray,
Myiona's eyes closed again.

Vicky
aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 Knowing her slight skill at healing would be useless, Sarenda decided
to go
with one of the groups that were going to find out information in the
villages.  She joined one, and they set out.
The village was a small one, the houses built of native materials and
probably with only one to three rooms each.  They walked through the
narrow
streets and tried to ignore the suspicious stares of the villagers.
Finally,
though, Sarenda realized they would have to ask; nothing in the village

seemed out of place.  Who would be the best person to ask?  she
wondered.Then
the answer occured to her, and she strode over to where a group of
little
boys were playing some sort of game with bits of bark in a puddle.
They
straightened when she approached, and looked at her warily.  "Excuse
me,"
she began, "could I ask you a question?"  "Who are you?" the smallest
one
burst out.  "You're not from Tremalking, are you?"  then, to his
friend, he
whispered, "she's not atha'an miere!  Look at her eyes!  They're
purple!"
Sarenda smiled.  "Yes, they are.  But yours are much nicer than mine.
Hey-
has anything interesting happened here lately?"  This time one of the
older
boys -about ten, she guessed- answered.  "Yeah, the windfinders are all

getting real sick.  We don't know why!  And if they..." his voice
trailed
off, then picked back up again "die, we won't be able to sail so fast
to
trade, and ten the village will get real poor."  Big eyes looked up at
her.
"Can you help us, Lady?"  Sarenda nodded, "That's what we're here for,
but we
don't know if we can help yet.  Can you tell me about this sickness?
We need
all the knowledge we can get."  So saying, she knelt in the dust and
was
instantly ringed by little boys eager to impress the odd-looking
stranger
with all they could think of.  Sarenda smiled again.  Children are the
best
source of information; they don't even think of lying.  Besides,
they're so
much more...friendly...than officials or other residents.  Sarenda
settled in
to learn all she could of this mystery sickness.

 The woman they had found lay slumped over Myiona's saddle.  Alcinia
rode
out ahead with Aramis, making sure nothing out of the ordinary
happened.
Mura'shar rode beside Myiona, watching her and the sick woman.
    Alcinia pointed up ahead to where some dust was rising.  The others
from
the Black Tower.  Soon, they had rejoined the group.  The sick woman
was
carried away and Myiona fell into the arms of Mura'shar.
    After she dismounted, Alan asked her what had happened.  Alcinia's
explanation was short and only contained the facts.  He nodded,
satisfied
with what he had heard.
    Alcinia looked at her horse.  It had seemed to be limping some
during the
ride back, but she was not really sure what to do about it.  She looked

around at the others hoping someone would notice.  A voice behind her
said .
. .

Alcinia

 "Are you sure?"
    The Asha'man's lips moved to the accompaniment of a barely audible
"Oh,
Light," but all he said to her face was a weary, "Yes."
    Shea eyed the gateway, a formidable whirling disk of quiksilver,
through
which was visible a pastoral seaside landscape quite definitely remote
from
the solid Andoran ground she and the disgusted Asha'man stood on.
"This
opens onto Tremalking?" she repeated, hoping that perhaps this time he
might
come up with an answer that better suited her purposes.
    He raked a tan hand through his spiky brown hair.  "Look," he said
in a
tired tone, "you wanted to be a Novitiate.  You'll need some women for
that.
You can either step through this gateway and join up with the
Dragonsworn on
their mission, or you can hop back on that cute pony of yours and go to
Tar
Valon for all I care.  Just please, please, do one of the two in the
next
twenty seconds."
    At the mention of Tar Valon, Shea's eyes narrowed.  Never would she
aid
the witches who had betrayed her parents.  Her decision made, she
briskly
remounted her horse, a small but sturdy dappled gray mare named Maeli
for all
her hopes, and guided her to the gateway.  She twisted in the saddle,
drew
her sword, and to the Black Tower gave a sharp salute.  The last she
saw of
Andor were the expressively rolling brown eyes of her Asha'man.  She
rode
through and called, "Thanks," but it was for nothing.  He had already
let the
gate collapse.
    Alone as far as she could see on a strange island -- though it was
better
than the accursed island of her birth --, Shea and Maeli trotted almost

casually down the road not far from where the gateway had opened.
After
perhaps twenty minutes had passed, they reached a picturesque little
town.
Gratifyingly, the first people she caught sight of were dressed in the
telltale black coats of their Tower, and she rode up to them making a
conscious effort to not look too naive.  "Hello," she said to no one in

particular.  "I was sent to...do something, I'm sure, because this
where the
Black Tower is apparently sending Novitiates these days.  Could I have
a bit
of a hand?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*
I hate intro RPs, but then again I do feel they're necessary.  ;)

Shea/Rae (it rhymes!)
"New" Novitiate

 "Of course you may." Replied an elderly Asha'man. He stood there,
leaning
heavily on his staff with one hand, and a quill and parchment hovering
just
below his right shoulder, with his right hand, he held a book open. A
small
mound of earth slowly rose near the novitiate, and formed itself into a

series of steps.  Strangely enough, the horse simply stood, totally
calm as
the earth rose so close to it.
"Earth and Air where always my strong points," the man said as way of
explanation, "I am Xyranthes, of Cairhein. And you are?"
"Usually those first come to the tower serve in whatever capacity they
may,
including working on the first mission that comes along.  These days it
seems
we never have much of a chance to relax, always the mission whisks us
away to
far off lands, like this one."
"Have you had any formal training at the White Tower, with any of the
Brown
sisters perhaps, I am trying to puzzle out this one passage in "The
Question
of Althar." It relates to Tremalking, but it's in an archaic form of
the Old
Tongue."

Peter
<><

 Ariana, not entirely worn out from the Healing of the Sea Folk woman,
came up
behind Xyranthes just in time to catch the last part of his
conversation with
someone who was not Atha'an Miere, but not a Black Tower member,
either.
Strange.  But... "Old Tongue?"  she queried.  "I have spent some time
with
it...may I see the passage?"  She accepted the bit of parchment he
handed
her, read it over several times, her lips forming shapes but not sounds
as
she puzzled over the archaic form of already-archaic writing.  "Hmmm,"
she
said.  "I think... this word"- she pointed- "and this one, look
familiar,
somewhat.  I'll try to recall all the old stuff I dug up as an Accepted
in
the Tower library. --Wait,"  she added, "I think... oh, how irritating!
 I
just knew it, and now I've forgotten it."  She shook her head, then
turned to
the stranger, who had suddenly gone  quite... disapproving?... when
Ariana
had mentioned the White Tower.  "Hello, I'm Ariana Kantori, Dragonsworn
of
the Black Tower.  And you are...?"  She thought it wise not to mention
the
White Tower again.  "Shea," the woman said, "Shea Vironda."  "Have you
come
to join the Black Tower?" Ariana asked, since that seemed the only
logical
explanation for her presence on an island that was home only to Sea
Folk.
Besides, she could channel, and it seemed too much of a coincidence
that she
would just be here somehow.  She learned that the woman had, indeed,
come to
join the Black Tower.  After a short greeting, though, Ariana pled work
and
fled, determined to puzzle out the piece of the Old Tongue she had been

given.  Some of the words looked so familiar...and yet, she was sure
she had
never seen them before.  She sighed and stared at the paper as she
limped
along.  Why does it have to be so complicated a language? she wondered
sourly, but her mind answered.  It doesn't, but would you be so
interested in
it if it was?  Ariana had to admit she wouldn't.  The challenge
provided the
intrigue.  And she was sure she knew those words...

He he, it's amazing what a lonely introvert can find in a big,
unsearched
library made by Aes Sedai... when you don't have lots of friends, you
can
always poke around in bug piles of ancient scripts and books!  So, I'll
try
to "decipher" your line, there.  Wish me luck!

~~Ariana~~
(AKA Erin the Mun)

 Ariana came up behind her, having noticed her mount seemed to be in
pain.
She sighed ruefully.  And I wanted to be useful, she thought wryly.
But
pain, it seemed, drew her to fix it.  "Excuse me, but your horse seems
to be
going lame," she said.  The woman gave her a relieved look.  "Yes, I
had
noticed, but I wasn't sure what to do,"  Ariana smiled.  "I'll Heal it,
if
you like.  Be prepared," she added, some horses don't react very well
to the
feeling."  She had learned that the hard way, when Tai'dari, for all
his
helpfulness as a mount, had pitched her in the dirt the day she first
tried
to Heal him from her saddle.  The woman nodded and dismounted with a
fluid
grace Ariana envied.  While Alcinia held the reins tightly, Ariana
knelt and
placed her hands on the injured hoof.  "Steady," she murmured, "This'll
feel
odd, lad..."  She channeled, and the horse's head shot up and its tail
flagged. He snorted and kicked the healed hoof.  Ariana stood and
dusted off
her skirts, then similarly brushed off Alcinia's thanks.  "You're
welcome,
but it wasn't hard.  Not like the woman..." she trailed off.  She had
almost
forgotten to go check on the patient!  She patted the horse and made
hasty
apologies for dashing off, and gave a peculiar whistle.  This was no
time to
try and walk when she could go faster.  Tai'dari, responding to her
signal,
cantered over from where she had left him.  She swung up into his
saddle and
hurried off to stable him and go find her patient, all thoughts of
horses,
the Old Tongue, and newcomers pushed to the back of her mind as she
took the
steps of the borrowed local hut as fast as she could.  She spared a
moment to
be proud of the fact that, despite her hurry, she didn't trip or fall
going
up them.  When she reached the patient, she seemed better.  "Don't try
to sit
up yet," Ariana urged her.  "Just stay there.  Do you need anything?"
A
weakened throat tried to form words.  "Water."  Ariana brought a glass
and
helped her drink it.  "Thank you," she began, but Ariana hushed her.
"Sleep
now.  You're going to get better, but you need to rest."  Th woman
subsided,
and soon was asleep.  Ariana decided to go see what, if anything, she
could
puzzle out from the scrap of the Old Tongue.  Its half-remembered words
were
a tantalizing conundrum, and one she intended to solve.

 Shea smiled at the old man respectfully.  Though he was older than her
father, the two men had the same kind of scholarly cheer about them; a
cheer
so disarming that it often caused others to forget how dangerous they
could
be.
    "I'm Shea Vironda," she told him.  "Of Andor."  Though she had
spent the
first eight years of her life in the resplendent Tar Valon, she
harbored no
fondness for the city of her childhood, and considered Whitebridge to
be her
true hometown.
    Quite suddenly another woman walked up and began talking with
Xyranthes,
before Shea had time to announce that she knew a little of the Old
Tongue.
Ariana, she said her name was, and she called herself a Dragonsworn,
but Shea
knew better than that.  The woman was an Aes Sedai.  Still, at some
point
she'd obviously seen the injustice perpetuated by the almighty Black
Tower
and had reverted to the (somewhat strange) simplicity of the Tower of
the
Prince of the Morning.  Perhaps Ariana was alright.  As quickly as
she'd
appeared, the Dragonsworn left, intent on her copy of Xyranthes's scrap
of
Old Tongue.  Wondering idly what Ajah Ariana was, Shea turned back to
the
elderly Cairhienin.  "I have not trained at the White Tower," she said
in a
definitive tone, "but my mother did teach me a little of the Old Tongue
when
I was a child.  I forget most of it, but if there's anything I can help

decipher, I suppose this is my first task as Novitiate?"
    Strange tower, alright.

Shea / Rae
Novitiate

 Tareena stood feeding wood into the fire, stoking it up to begin
preparation for the noonday meal.  Everyone had to take a turn at camp
chores, Guardian or not, and unfortunately noon was her turn.  She
would much
rather be out looking for information with the others, but duty was
duty.
Plus, she was keeping an eye on the shield being kept around the sick
windfinder.  The Sea Folk woman had taken a turn for the worst, the
sickness
creeping over her once more.  The best that the healers in the camp had
been
able to accomplish was to make her as comfortable as possible.  It
appeared
as though she goes through cycles, with the fever and chills apparently

eating her from within and then periods of seemingly calm.  They needed
to
find some answers, in a hurry, or the windfinder was not going to make
it.
Tareena again wondered to herself why it seemingly only affected the
windfinders but no one else.   Well, it's not something I am going to
figure
out standing over a pot, I better get this show on the road.
     Tareena dished out a bowl of stew and handed it to the next person
in
line.  She was proud of her cooking accomplishment, it was something
that she
had been learning to do over the course of her time at the Black Tower.
 She
looked up when the next person in line didn't grab the bowl from her
hand.
Standing before her was Ariana, the healer who had been working the
most
diligently on trying to find a cure for the windfinder.  Tareena could
tell
by the slump of her shoulders that the seeming defeat of her skills
weighed
heavily on her shoulders.  With a smile for encouragement, Tareena
nudged her
to give her the bowl of food.  "You need to eat, Ariana, take this."
With a
grimace, she reached out her hand and finally took the offered food.  I
need
to speak with her later, make sure she understands it isn't her fault.

Sometimes there are just limits to what can be done, even for us.
     Tareena looked around to see how many more people needed to come
through
the line.  She noticed the new intitate, Sarenda, talking and laughing
with a
group of people which also included Raelyah.  They seem to be fitting
in just
fine.  I need to remember to speak with Myiona about their training.
Just
because they were not at the tower, there were classes that still could
be
held, especially battle training.  Hmmm...and discipline as well.
There is
no reason why they cannot help with the dishes.  Calling the woman
over,
Tareena outlined their tasks and even managed to "ignore" their good
natured
grumbling.
     When everything was shipshape in the camp once more, Tareena found

herself with empty hands and no tasks to fill them.  She was restless,
waiting for something to happen and yet fearful that it might.  Feeling
the
taste of salt carried to her on the wind, Tareena's thoughts turned
toward
the ocean.  That's what I will do this afternoon, I will go explore by
the
sea.  No one needs me right now and maybe I can find some shells.  I
wonder
if anyone would like to go with me.  Looking around, Tareena began
looking at
everyone who was left in the camp.  She had hoped that her bondmate
would be
able to go, but he was involved in a lengthy discussion and was needed
elsewhere.  With a sigh, she walked over to the picket lines, prepared
to go
alone, seeing no one else who was available. A cloud of dust alerted
her to
the approaching presence of someone else.  As the rider got nearer, she
made
recognized Aramis, who caught sight of her and with a grin, lead his
horse
over to her.  "Where are you headed on such a fine day, Mi'lady?"
     "I was going to head towards the ocean today, I am a bit restless.
 
Would you care to join me?  It looks as though everyone else is busy."
     "I would love to go," he replied.  "It will be a treat to spend
the
afternoon with a lady as lovely as yourself."
     Tareena felt herself turning red at the unexpected compliment.
She knew
he was just being himself, she had heard he was an accomplished flirt
from
several of the ladies, but it was nice to hear anyway.  To hide her
embarrassment, she quickly mounted her horse and rode off, knowing he
would
follow.
     It was a glorious afternoon.  The sun was in it's zenith, the
ocean
magnificent.  Tareena breathed in the tangy air, feeling tension she
didn't
even know she had, melt away.  Aramis was a good companion.
Knowledgeable,
witty, courteous, she liked being in his company.  They began leading
their
horses, giving them a chance to rest.  Slowly they made their way down
the
beach, occasionally stopping to inspect a shell that had washed up with
the
tides.  Aramis was in the middle of telling her a story when the pair
heard a
faint hello.  They both looked up, shielding their eyes from the sun's
rays.
Coming towards them was what appeared to be an older man, leaning
heavily on
his walking stick.  As he drew nearer, Tareena could see the age
ripened,
leathery look to his skin and see the effect of what must be arthritis.
 His
fingers curled in, as if he were perpetually holding a ball.  He was
hunched
over and walked with a limp. Somewhat leery of the unknown man, Tareena

wasn't sure what to do.  Coming to a rest before them, the old timer
raised
his head and she stared down into the most beautiful pair of eyes she
had
ever seen.  They were a pale sea green color, merry and cheerful with a

bright twinkle.  She immediately felt drawn to this man, wanting to
look into
those eyes forever.
     After introducing themselves, Silas, the old man, asked the pair
to come
back to his home and share afternoon refreshments.  Stating that he
didn't
see many visitors and it would sure pleasure him to have company.  They
pair
agreed and led their horses behind them to his home.  He lived in what
appeared to be a hut, though it looked solid and the inside was neat
and
clean as a pin.  They learned that he had lived and worked his whole
life on
the ships, until the arthritis has begun it's crippling effect.  He had

chosen to take up the isolated residence by his beloved ocean, rather
than
live in one of the villages.  He regaled them with stories of the sea,
keeping them constantly enthralled.  Tareena couldn't remember ever
having
such a good time.  She had to wipe tears of laughter from her face
often and
hold her side from laughing.  It wasn't until a sudden gush of wind,
banging
closed the shutters, interrupted Silas that Tareena looked outside.
The sky
had darkened, the sea had roughened.  Whitecaps danced and sea spray
broke on
the rocks.  With regret, Tareena and Aramis began to say their
good-byes,
genuinely wishing they did not have to go, but knowing their friends
would
worry if they did not come back soon.
     With a last wave, Tareena turned to walk out the door.  As she
walked
through the doorway, her pouch caught on an exposed nail in the
doorway,
tearing a rip into it and spilling the contents.  Silas hobbled over to
help,
apologizing profusely.  Aramis hid a smile behind his hand at the
gallantry
displayed by the gentleman.
     Tareena smiled, trying to put him at ease, for it was not his
fault.  A
piece of parchment had rolled out and came undone.  Stevan had had
copies of
the runes found on the Ter'angreal that had washed up, hoping that
people
could use it to question the channelers and village people.  So far, no
one
had had any luck.  In their enjoyment, they had not thought to ask
Silas or
show him the parchment.  Tareena sucked in her breath at the expression
on
his face.  "What is it Silas, do you recognize this?"
      He nodded his head and slowly began to retell a tale from
childhood.
His memory had faded and he was only able to tell them that he had once
seen
these same markings as a little boy.  He had been on one of his first
voyages
and had few responsibilities as of yet.  He remembered hearing the
lookout
shout, although there was no land in sight.  They had pulled a man from
the
water, of a race they had never seen before.  He remembered some were
scared
of him, fearing evil spirits.  The man was raving, incoherent and died
shortly after being hauled in.  The one thing Silas could remember was
his
awe at all of the markings on the mans body for he had never seen
anything
like it, before or since.  They were the same markings as on the
parchment.
     Tareena and Aramis were elated.  Finally! A breakthrough had come.
 
After getting as much information as they could and hastily saying
good-bye,
they raced back to the camp.
     By the time they reached camp, the storm began to wail in earnest,

driving everyone inside.  When it had passed, leaving everything fresh
and
clean, everyone gathered around to hear their tale.  Excitement gripped
the
camp as they finally realized they had at least a direction.  They were

headed out to sea.

 With a deep sigh, Ariana accepted the bowl.  Food was the last thing on
her
mind right now.  She ate it mechanically, not really tasting it, though
she
was sure it was good.  Ariana herself had never learned to cook, though
she
could sew and manage a household perfectly well.  She simply hadn't had
the
stamina to stand around for long hours in the sweltering heat of a
kitchen-
or the inclination.  After all, I thought I would grow up and inherit
the
estate.  There'd be servants that cooked; it's below a lady's dignity.
She
smiled ruefully at how fate had intervened.  Still, not even the twists
of
fate could distract her for long.  Why couldn't she Heal the
Windfinder?  The
question kept turning through her head.  The woman had had a relatively
clear
period for a few hours, then lapsed back.  Hmm, it's almost as if she's

being... re-sickened, somehow.  Like an infection that comes back as
soon as
you get rid of it.  Something on the island must be causing it, then-
and
since it was affecting only channelers, it was a safe bet that it had
something to do with that strange ter'angreal.  Still, she had those
strange
words Xyranthes had given her.  That should keep her mind off her
helplessness in the face of this mysterious illness. Ariana hated
helplessness of any kind in herself, and often refused to admit any
weakness-
but not to the point of stupidity.  If she really needed help, she'd
get it.
Otherwise, she was wasting time.  She handed the bowl to a novice
collecting
them and made her way back to find a quiet place to think.  She
eventually
decided to sit down by the water's edge.  It wasn't quiet, but it was
empty,
and she didn't want bustling people to interrupt her.  She settled on a
tuft
of wiry sea-grass that clung to a short bluff, just high enough to keep
the
spray from her.  Then she tried to recall all she could from those
late-night
trips to the undisturbed bowels of the Tar Valon library as an
Accepted.  She
sketched the ancient words in the sand below her with a stick, the
better to
study them.  The last, a twisted, glyph-like shape, seemed the most
familiar
to her, so she focused on it first.  Anger?  Confusion?  Oh, why does
the Old
Tongue have to have so many meanings?!  Wait- she had seen something
very
like it...where? oh, yes, that old, half-unreadable text on Healing.
Something about... diseases of the mind?  Madness!  Something about the
Time
of Madness!  She wrote "Madness?  Mental Illness??"  in the sand below
it.
The other familiar-seeming word she thought she had seem more than
once, but
didn't remember where.  "Figures," she said wryly to a passing seagull.
 "Of
course I remember a book on Healing, even unreadable, more than
something
I've seen at least a few times."  Still... had it been...History class?
 Yes,
it was.  "Aha!!"  She exclaimed.  "Ariana, your memory has more holes
than a
lord's lace collar."  It had been History class, and it was a word
meaning
"country" or "land," but with the connotation of a fable, a rumor;
something
not really known to exist.  "So... the land of the Mad? A land of
madmen?"
She got to her feet.  She had no idea what it was talking about, but
that
seemed to be the gist of the passage.  "Into the land of madmen," she
quoted
it aloud.  Great- but what and where was the land of madmen?  She set
off to
find someone who had payed more attention in History class.
 

Hehe, I hate History class.  So does Ari, therefore.  Besides, I know
nothing
of the LoM, so someone who was a Brown, this is a good time to help the
poor
confused Yellow here!  ::laughs:::  Grr, always knew hist. would come
in
handy someday... unfortunately.  War after sensless, boring war...

 The cool sea air blew lightly across the beach sand and over the narrow
dirt road
they traveled.  Janara road ahead of La'rece and Ivan who were talking
quietly to
each other.  It was a personal conversation between the two of them.
Janara
could feel content through the bond, mixed with sudden bursts of
confusion, anger
and then love.  La'rece, especially, could sample an entire array of
emotions in
the shortest time. Ivan, as was usually the case, kept his emotions
well guarded.
Janara grinned.  Ahh, but it was the times he let his emotions loose
that she
remembered the most.

Janara thought back to the time when it was only she and Ivan.  They
were such a
mismatched pair, especially then!  She smirked while thinking about the
headaches
her Traveling People philosophy caused Ivan at the time and how much
relief both
of them felt when La'rece accepted Ivan's suggestion that they all
three bond.
La'rece had been magic for both Janara and Ivan. She helped Janara
accept her new
life, the life of a soldier for the Dragon Reborn and for the Light.
La'rece was
also Ivan's personal savior, at least that is how Janara looked at it.
She
helped him let go of his old life - washed the pain away like it was
merely dirt
on the clean white silk sheet of his soul.  Well, maybe not that
easily, but
tough times are quickly forgotten once over.

The sun was setting.  The colors were brilliant, Janara stopped in awe
of the
crisp oranges and purples. La'rece and Ivan rode up beside her.
   "A White Sister in awe of a sunset?" La'rece teased.
"A Dragon Sworn appreciating a calm moment before a dangerous mission,"
Ivan
corrected.
"A woman," Janara said. She looked at La'rece and Ivan, "surrounded by
beauty."

 Mura'shar stood over the charts Tareena had laid out.  The leaders
from
both Storm Teams were peering at them as well while Tareena told them
the
story she and Aramis had heard.  It was thin, but better than nothing
at all.
 The Windfinder still hadn't said anything of use, and was not expected
to
survive the night, barring a miracle.
    "Silas said that they found the man here.  Tareena pointed at a
point on
the charts.  To Mura'shar, it was just a spot on the map with some
numbers on
it, but it must be of some significance, because everyone else seemed
impressed.
    Myiona voiced a doubt Mura'shar was feeling "Are we sure there's
anything
out there, though?  This man may have fallen from another ship"  The
rest of
the group paused for a moment to ponder that.
    Tareena had an answer to this as well "Silas was worried about evil

spirits when he saw the man.  Apparently, there is a land out there
which
nobody visits, so its not on the map.  Apparently, it's full of all
sorts of
hideous creatures and dangers which few survive.  I think we'll find
the
answers we seek there"
    Alan nodded.  "Nobody here seems to recognize the markings.  Maybe
it did
come from outside the island.  We've got the coordinates, we should
take a
look"
    There was some further debate on how much supplies they should
bring.  It
turned out it would be a fairly long voyage.  But Stevan was undeterred
    "We leave as soon as a ship is available"  he announced.
    The next day, at around noon, Mura'shar was carying his gear aboard
the
raker Windrunner.  He couldn't help but wonder who had managed to
secure a
ship so fast, or how much it cost.  But his thoughts soon turned to
this
mysterious land he was traveling to that seemed as much legend as fact.
 

Jake

 Talia was happy.  Well, as happy as any adventurous young woman who
has
finally come to terms with her inner self.. as much as her inner self
she
knows, anyway.  Making camp seemed an easy chore, and she helped others

quite cheerfully as she did so.  Others might have marvelled at how
cheerful
she really was; for, the hot-tempered Saldaean did not bite anyone's
head
off when irritations surfaced.  Talia bade Tareena a happy hello in the

lunch line and gave her a few compliments about her cooking... which,
no
doubt, left Tareena a very confused expression on her face.

  However, Talia's head wasn't entirely in the clouds.  She did think
of the
strange Sea Folk woman under their care currently.  A worried look
crossed
her features as she ate her lunch.  The silence in her area was
disturbed by
Alan's seating himself next to her.

  "Don't think too hard.. You might actually have an intelligent
insight,"
His smirk equalled his sarcasm.

  Yet, Talia couldn't take that as an insult.  It was infuriating how
things
change.  She just chuckled a little and shrugged.  "Just thinking about
the
Windfinder..."  Talia nodded in the direction of the tent housing said
Sea
Folk woman.

  "Ah.." said Alan.  "We're working on it..."  His voice was almost
vague
and disturbingly daunting.

  "We will."  Talia nodded and gave him an encouraging smile.. reaching
over
and patting his knee like a comrade would.  Then, kissing his cheek,
Talia
rose and walked off.  "See you later, Alan.  We both have work to do,
no
doubt."

  Alan just watched her walk away with a grin on his face that bordered

between a smirk and a genuine smile.. and then he finished his lunch.

  That night, Talia saw Tareena and Aramis return from a jaunt off to
the
beach.  Watching them closely, as is her talent, Talia knew at once
that
there was news.  Tareena looked as though she had found the answer to
all
the questions that the Wheel will ever weave.  She also watched as the
leaders converged at Tareena's beckoning.  Talia crossed her arms and
watched from a distance as they entered a tent.  Patiently, though
patience
is not one of Talia's virtues, she awaited what news the Dragonsworn
and the
Asha'man had discovered.

~Talia Daimar
~Dragonsworn
<><

 Alcinia groaned when she heard that they were going to be on a
ship.  The
last voyage, from Mayene, had been difficult for her.  She spent the
whole
time sick in a cabin.  She decided to find a way around the sickness at
the
beginning.
    She went to speak to Ariana and asked her for something that would
ease
the sea sickness.  Alcinia walked off with a bag of herbs that she was
to mix
with water and drink any time she felt queasy.
    The next day they were on board.  Alcinia had already used the
mixture
and found that she no longer felt sick.  She gave Ariana a smile as she

walked past her and said, "Thanks for the potion.  It works
wonderfully."
    Soon, Alcinia had made friends with some of the young women who
worked on
the ship.  She thought it would be fun to "dress" like one of them just
to
watch the response of the men.  With a giggle, the women helped her
change
and then they walked out onto the deck.

Alcinia

 Myiona awoke as the horses stopped.  She opened her eyes to find
that
they were at the camp.  She dismounted slowly, allowing her body time
to
readjust to being back on the ground.
    While Mura'shar saw to the horses, she went in search of some food.
 When
she returned with the food, they hurried into a tent to wait out the
storm.
After eating, Myiona stretched out on a sleeping pallet.
    After the storm passed over, they were informed that something had
been
learned.  A hasty meeting was called to discuss the latest findings.
Sea
charts were spread across a table and Tareena told what she had heard.
    Myiona asked, "Are we sure there's anything out there, though?
This man
may have fallen from another ship."
    After further discussion, the group decided that they had to check
it
out.  The final details were sorted out and Stevan left to find a ship.
 The
night passed too quickly, and soon they were aboard Windrunner.  As
usual for
their custom, the Sea Folk women were topless.
    Most of the men stared at the deck or at the sea.  There were a few
that
seemed unable or unwilling to take their eyes off of the women.  Myiona
was
surprised to see her bondmate looking at the women.
    Myiona sniffed and walked away.  Then she saw some young women come
out
onto the deck smiling.  She looked back again, unable to believe what
she was
seeing.  Alcinia was with them and topless!
    "Alcinia," Myiona said sharply, "what do you think you are doing?
As a
Dragonsworn of the Black Tower you have a reputation and dignity to
uphold."
    Alcinia looked totally unrepentant.  "I am just trying to have a
little
fun," she explained.  "The way the men are staring at the Sea Folk
women gave
me the idea.  You can't tell me you enjoy seeing Mura'shar staring at
them."
    "I don't, but this is . . ."  Myiona smiled and continued, "maybe
this is
just the thing.  If you don't mind some company, what about dressing me
as
well.  Then, if anyone gets into trouble it will be me.  I agree that
it will
be worth the trouble."
    A few minutes later, Alcinia and Myiona walked back on the deck,
topless.
 They made sure to walk directly in front of Mura'shar and then to the
front
of the ship where they stood watching the Windfinder work.

Vicky
aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 Ariana smiled as she handed Alcinia the herbs.  If only there was a
such a
simple way to cure her difficulty with sea travel as well... well,
there was.
 Sort of, anyway; it would ease it.  But it was something she refused
to
contemplate- she would not use a crutch if her life depended on it.
She
would simply have to bite her lip and ignore it, and hope the trip was
over
quickly.  Surely it couldn't take too long, whereever this Land of
Madmen
was.  She still worried about the Sea Folk woman, too.  Whatever was
causing
this strange sickness- and Ariana strongly suspected the mysterious
ter'angreal- she could do nothing about, but it tore deeply at her to
do
nothing when she had spent half her life, at least, learning to heal-
and
Heal.  Still, there was nothing she could do, it seemed.  That hurt
almost as
much as her inaction; she had been, quite probably, one of the best
up-and-coming healers of the White Tower before she left, and to
realize she
was completely unable to do anything that would work.... It stung.  She

decided to go do something useful, to try and get her mind off it.  She
found
a piece of clothing from her packs and began mending it; she had
learned to
sew as a child, at least.  After a while, however, she gave it up.  Her
mind
was too free to wander while her hands stitched.  She got up,
stretched, and
went to see what was being planned.  At least that'll keep my mind too
busy
to worry.  She went to find out what they had made of the quote she
had-partially-deciphered.  What in the Light- or out of it!- was the
Land of
Madmen??

OK, i don't have a guide-thingy, so let me know all about it- if anyone

knows!  ~E

 Tareena stood in shock as she watched Alcina and Myiona prance around
topless.  When she came above deck, she had been prepared to see the
Sea Folk
women in their native garb but not two women of the Black Tower, one of
which
was the 1st Dragonsworn!  She didn't know whether to laugh or to order
them
to cover up.  Part of her, deep down inside, wanted to join them in
their
freedom of expression, but knew it wasn't going to happen.  She was too
shy
and reserved to let herself be on display.  Not to mention the fact
that she
certainly did not have the endowments that were being shown.  Oh well,
it
wasn't for her to decide how they should dress or act.  Besides, if
some of
the looks she saw being exchanged by certain high ranking members of
the
tower were any indication, they would be changing their clothes fairly
soon.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------I couldn't just let this
one
pass me by...should have made the men naked too....hehehe

 Sarenda could not believe how fast a ship had been procured.  She did
not
know much about ocean travel, of course... but when she had had to
travel for
the White Tower, it had sure taken a lot longer!  A rude awakening to
how
popular Aes Sedai are- especially Reds.  Oh, well.  Sometimes she was
ambivalent about having come here, but she had, so perhaps she wasn't
really
a Red anymore.   After all, how many Reds did she know who would be
here
voluntarily in the first place, much less do it without trying to
gentle
every man she met, or go crazy?  None, that's how many.  Ooh, wouldn't
Marin
have a nervous breakdown!  Marin had been a particularly vicious member
of
the Red Ajah, and had frowned (and worse) at Sarenda's carefreeness
toward
men more than once.  Sarenda herself did not really mind men, but had
joined
the Red Ajah for personal reasons.  Poor Toman, she thought sadly.  But
that
was gone now, and so was Marin and her hatred of all males.  Sarenda
was
fairly sure the woman would as soon kiss a Trolloc as a man- and as for
a
channeler- well, the Trolloc would win every time, she was sure.
Sarenda
looked round at the men that had come on this trip.  They were young,
old,
middle-aged; dark, light, and everything in between; all different.
And yet,
all the same- they could channel, and thus were under certain doom.
Actually, she sympathized; she couldn't imagine how it would feel to
know
that the thing that felt like life itself was going to be her death.How

horrible!  Still, she had other things to be doing- like the dishes she
had
been assigned to.  She turned her thoughts out of the past and focused
firmly
on the stack of bowls beside her, waiting to be washed.

Yuk.  Dishes are made to annoy humans, I just know it!  It's a
conspiracy!!
::laughter:::

 Crystinah walked around, thinking about all that had been going on.
 
~I'll sure be glad then this bloody mission is over,~ she thought to
herself.
    Rounding a corner, she nearly fell over when she saw Myiona and
Alcinia
running around, topless.  "You'd expect the Sea Folk to be doing that,
but
us?  Well, I'll never put anything past Myiona.  But then, I wouldn't
be
surprised if it was Alcinia's idea.  I always did see a bit of a
troublemaker
in her and with Myiona helping her ... I'm not surprised she hadn't
changed
long before she did.  But then, it was always there, Myiona just
brought it
out . . .  Now where am I going?" she asked herself, frowning.  "This
is WAY
off subject."
    She laughed and walked towards them.  "Having fun?" she asked,
laughing.
    Crystinah rolled her eyes and walked away towards the railing to
look
across the water.  After a moment she turned around then nearly fell
over
when the boat moved again.  ~It's sure going to get some getting used
to,
that's for sure,~ she thought to herself.
    Walking away, Crystinah nearly bumped into three people.  She
sighed.
~I'll be glad when I get off this boat!~ she thought.  ~I can't even
walk a
step without nearly falling!~
    She sat down on a chair and put her head on her hands and groaned.

~Bloody ship,~ she thought as the boat rocked again.

Karen
aka Crystinah -- who hates boats!

 Talia had sailed before.  Many many times.  She loved it.  Almost as
much
as adventuring itself.  Leaning over from the edge of the ship on which
they
had procured voyage, she inhaled deeply of the ocean's scent.  Okay, so

sailing on the ocean was a tad bit different than sailing down the
rivers.
She was just a little bit nervous about the ever expanding horizon, but
she
wasn't going to let that bungle her enjoyment of the journey.  She
glanced
about her traveling companions.  Most of the Asha'man were below deck..

along with the leading Dragonsworn.  Most likely planning their next
move.
That included Alan.  She wished she could enjoy this sailing adventure
with
Alan.  She smirked at herself.  Wouldn't he like to know her musings at
this
moment.

  Talia leaned against the railing of the ship, arms crossed, watching
the
ocean's waves roil and lap against the boat.  Craning her neck, she saw

another of the Dragonsworn.. or was it Initiate?  She didn't pay much
attention to the ranks besides the 1st and 2nd Dragonsworn.  This woman
was
sick.  Sea sick.  Talia chuckled softly as another of the women offered
a
"cure" for this sickness.

  One thing that surprised Talia about this journey was the fact that
Myiona
and some others were walking around just like the Sea Folk women on
this
vessel.  Talia smirked at that, too.  She wasn't about to bare herself
to
fit in.  Most of the Sea Folk women thought she was a man at first
glance
anyway.  Her short cropped hair and rough riding clothes were enough to

deter many rough men during her travels.  Therefore, she decided to
keep her
hair short.  Running a hand through her hair, she noticed it was
getting too
long for her taste.  ~Where's a hairdresser when you need one?~  mused
Talia.  Then she settled against the rail and waited for the decision
reached below decks to be announced.

~Talia Daimar
~Dragonsworn
<><

 Mura'shar had never sailed on the open sea before.  That mission in

Mayene didn't really count, since they barely left the harbor and he
was
distracted by other things.  He found he rather enjoyed it.  The
scenary was
peaceful.
    But once the ship was out of sight of land, chaos seemed to erupt.
The
female members of the crew removed their shirts and went about their
business
half-naked.  Mura'shar's eyes widened.  It was totally indecent, but he
still
had a hard time looking away.
    With a start he realized that he had been staring and certainly not

setting a good example for the rest of the Tower.  He somehow managed
to tear
his eyes away and headed for the bow of the ship.  He decided it was
safer to
keep his eyes on the water.  He tried to regain that sense of peace he
had
before, ignoring the groans from those members of the Black Tower prone
to
seasickness.
    Don't think about anything, don't think about how you nearly made a
fool
of yourself.  Everyone else was either staring or trying not to stare.
You
weren't noticed.  Don't think about how Myiona would probably join
those
women if she weren't...  He heard footsteps behind him.
    He turned around only to see one of the topless women before him,
politely asking him to step out of the way so she could perform some
task or
other. Mura'shar stepped aside without a word, not daring to speak, and

nearly bumped into Myiona and Alcinia.
    Mura'shar bit off a startled exclamation.  They were both bare to
the
waist!  If his face was red before, it must be a flaming mask now.
Myiona's
grin dared him to say anything as they joined the Windfinder at the
bow.
    Mura'shar sighed in resignation.  He'll definitely have to speak
with
Myiona in private and he wasn't looking forward to that.  But he
suspected
that he, and probably the other Asha'man, will be spending most of the
voyage
below decks regardless.

Jake
Mura'shar
who's going to go hide now

 Ariana sighed, and went below deck after handing out to various people
the
herbs necessary to prevent seasickness.  If I hurry, I can make it
below
before we set sail.  That would be easier;  a tied ship rocked less
than a
sailing one.  She found out from a young Sea Folk woman with few
earrings and
fewer medallions where she was lodged, and refused an offer of
assistance.
As she hobbled down the small stairs, she hoped fervently this trip was

short.
She passed a few more sailors belowdecks- and laughed out loud- albeit
under
her breath- at their clothes-or rather, lack of it.  I suppose it must
be
more convenient, but I'll bet half the Asha'man will spend the voyage
red-faced!  And the other half will be hiding down here.  As for
herself,
Ariana had no intention of imitating their style- but she'd bet her
boots
some of the others would.  She laughed again.  This might be more fun
than
she had thought!

~OK, ok, it's short.  but i'm tired... :::laughs::: when am i not??
but
anyway, more later, I guesss.  ~E/A

 During the entire trip up the north road they had found nothing of use.
 La'rece
had started a couple of conversations with the native islanders but
they amounted
to nothing.  Janara thought she saw fear in some of their eyes.  It had
to be
something that kept the locals from talking, not many people, even
total
strangers, can hold out against La'rece once she decides to charm
something out of
someone.  Janara had watched La'rece a thousand times, looking hard and
trying to
sense some use of the power while she smiles and laughs and nods her
head
innocently while total strangers open up and tell her their life
stories.  If the
skill involves any use of the one power, Janara can't sense it.  In any
case,
Janara thought while grinning, La'rece's method of gaining information
would make
any White Cloak questioner green with envy.

La'rece, Ivan and Janara got back to the rest of the group just in time
to get on
board the Atha'an Miere ship with the rest of the Black Tower team
members.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

   "This is boring," La'rece said leaning over to Janara while they
both listened
as Ivan take part in a meeting below deck on the ship.
"What...?" Janara said.
   "You were daydreaming again, I said this is a bore.  Why don't you
go up on
deck and see what all the noise is about."  Janara listened.  There did
seem to be
some sort of unusual activity going on up on deck.
"I wanted to get a look at the Windfinder and see if I could figure out
her weaves
anyway," Janara said standing up and almost hitting her head on the low
ceiling.
Janara was a short woman but even she had to bend over.  Poor Ivan
nearly had to
'walk' on his knees.  Janara wasn't sure who did the negotiations with
the
Sailmistress around what quarters the members of the Black Tower
received, but
whoever did, he or she got screwed.  Not that Janara complained out
loud.  She
would not want to be the next person to try to take the Sailmistress on
in a
verbal fight.

Once on deck, Janara had to take a moment to steady herself.  She saw
one of the
female Atha'an Miere torture a poor Black Tower male by pressing her
bare chest
into his face.  The man's face was as red as blood.

Janara did a double take.  That wasn't a crew member, it was Myiona!  A
sudden
surge of anger erupted inside Janara.  Concern flowed through the bond
from Ivan
and La'rece and Janara quickly got control of her emotions.  ~I'm fine~
she
thought and hoped her calm would flow back.  It seemed to work.  There
had to be
some reasonable explanation for this.  Janara took a quick scan around
the deck.
Well, not all the Black Tower women were topless - that was a good
sign.  Janara's
first thought was that the Sea Folk crew had somehow convinced or maybe
even
forced the female Dragon Sworn into "appropriate" clothing - or rather
a lack
there of. Janara looked at some of the Atha'an Miere crew members.  A
few had
stopped what they were doing to look at Myiona.  One pointed to another
Dragon
Sworn, Alcinia, who was also missing a top.  They laughed quietly.
Perhaps they
had something to do with this outrage.

Janara walked up to the two Atha'an Miere.  They were both male.  One
looked at
her and grinned. "If you too would also like to try our 'native way of
dress',
I'm sure we could find an 'outfit' for you as well," he said.  His
voice was deep
and had an accent that reminded Janara of music.  She almost asked if
he knew the
song but stopped.  She straightened herself up and looked up into his
eyes in what
she hoped was a challenging way.  His sky blue eyes were like puddles
or jewels in
his chocolate colored face.
   "If this," Janara pointed to Myiona and Alcinia, "is your idea of a
joke, I for
one, am not laughing.  I would suggest you end it now."  Inside what
Janara really
wanted to say was ~Come with me down to my quarters and I'll show you
my own
'native' way - the native dance of my own clan~
   "We had nothing to do with them," the other, slightly taller but
still handsome
Atha'an Meire male said, "they just chose to do it on their own.  We do
not
attempt to control our passengers."  He was obviously angry.  If it was
the crew
who started this, it wasn't one of these two.
"I'm sorry if I offended," Janara said lowering her head a bit. "Please
take me to
your Sailmistress and I'm sure we can figure out what is going on."
She looked at
the first man who nodded and lead her up to the front of the ship.
Janara stepped
inside the cabin where the Sailmistress controlled the ship. The male
guide was at
Janara's side.
   "My name is Locke," Locke said.
"I'm Janara."
Locke introduced Janara to the Sailmistress and explained Janara's
concern.  At
the woman's nod, he turned and left, winking at Janara as he did.

"This is a Raker of the very honorable Clan Cascon, Sept Lithe," the
Sailmistress
said confidently, "no one on my ship would force any passenger to
remove their top
for any reason.  In fact, they would probably discourage it if one
tried."
  "That is probably true," Janara said, "I in no way mean to offend."
Janara felt
very small inside and she wished she paid more attention to the
lectures of the
Greys while an Accepted. "Nevertheless, I'm sure in the very unlikely
event that
one of your crew did somehow influence some of our female members, you,
as the
Sailmistress, would of course want to know about it..."
"Of course, " she said, "if anyone did you can be assured that they
shall be
punished in a most harsh fashion."  Janara couldn't help but cringe
from the way
the woman said 'harsh fashion.'  Whatever their 'fashion' of punishment
was, it
did not sound pleasant.

The Sailmistress snapped her fingers once they stepped outside the
cabin.  She
sent a crew member off to interview the other crew members to find out
what
happened.  Each minute felt like an hour to Janara.  The two women
seemed to be
enjoying themselves and Janara was slowly coming to the conclusion that
this was
their choice.  She wondered how she could get out of this one.  She
could be
wrong, it could be some fancy of hers, but Janara could not let go of
the feeling
that if it was Myiona and/or Alcinia's idea, the Sailmistress would try
to use
this to her advantage somehow once the ship landed.  Who knows, maybe
something
about being falsely accused of wrongdoing or being insulted by the
women's
'obvious making fun of Atha'an Miere culture.'  No doubt she could
think of
something that sounded good.

The person sent out to investigate spoke for a minute with the two
Dragon Sworn
after speaking to the rest of the crew and came back to the
Sailmistress.
  "It was their own choice and they seem to insist on staying that way,
Sailmistress, something about keeping their men's eyes on them..."
"Thank you," the Sailmistress said and then sent him off with a wave of
her hand.
She then turned and looked at Janara.
  "Our customs are our own," she said and sniffed. "Your 'Dragon Sworn'
are not
the correct body type to be running around without a, how do you say,
'shirt'
anyway, they are to pale and their busts will sag without support."
She sniffed
again and thought for a moment.  "Not that they are any concern for
Atha'an Miere
women, of course and, with a few exceptions," the Sailmistress glared
at a few
male members of their crew who quickly stopped looking at the women and
went back
to work, "have not interrupted the operation of my ship."  Janara
thought a silent
prayer to the light that Myiona and Alcinia did not hear the
Sailmistresses
words.  It would not be good if the last battle suddenly begin here and
now.  Then
another fear gripped her heart.  What if La'rece came on deck.  Would
she also
decide to take off her shirt for the fun of it?!
   "I shall overlook this blatant 'insult' to the Atha'an Miere way of
life for a
little extra coin." the Sailmistress was saying as she turned to go
back into the
cabin, "I will talk to your leader when we arrive at our destination,
no need to
bother him with this now."

Janara held her breath as the Sailmistress disappeared into her cabin.
La'rece
had just come out on deck from below and was looking around.
___________________________________________________________________
Your turn La'rece!  I don't want to rp this one for you, it could be
fun.
-val

Janara Dragon Sworn
Bondmante to Ivan and La'rece

 Myiona stayed out on the deck just long enough to prove she was a
part of
the joke and then headed below deck.  She had enough of the sun and
wind and
wondered if she would regret her impulsiveness later.  Most of the
Asha'men
had disappeared by now anyway, choosing to hide in the cabins rather
than
trying to find a place to look other than at the half-naked women.
    She stopped by the cabin she had left her clothing in and changed
back
into her dress.  After stopping in the galley for a light lunch, she
decided
to go back to the cabin she was sharing with her bondmate.
    Myiona was not sure what kind of mood Mura'shar was in.  She could
feel
some of his emotions through the bond.  He seemed to be a little upset
for
some reason.  She paused at the cabin door and then opened it.  He was
lying
upon the bed facing the wall.
    "Well," she said, "I suppose you plan on scolding me.  Go ahead and
get
it over with."  She sat down on the chair and waited for what he had to
say.

Vicky
aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 Water.  So very much water.  The sun's beams shone on the ocean, were
reflected, and blinding glanced off every which way; Shea blinked.  In
her
short life she had lived in two of the most important trade cities in
the
world.  Mercantile ships were so familiar to her as to be unnoticeable,
and
even being on boats was passe.  This, however, was...different.
    She liked it.  Grinning, Shea made her way to the raker's stern.
It was
a center of activity and she didn't know enough of navigation or
sailing to
be anything but a hindrance.  Nor was she of enough rank to justify
distract
any of these incredible Atha'an Miere with questions.  Unobtrusively,
she did
her best to avoid getting in the way while still advancing towards the
very
front of the ship.  Receiving a minimum of strange looks, she finally
managed
the last few feet, and found herself leaning over a rail, all the vast
ocean
spread out 'neath her.  For a moment Shea was struck with dizziness,
and
understood finally the sickness that had stricken so many of her
companions.
Yet she stood up, and the feeling subsided.  All that was left was the
sunlight, the seaspray, and the glory of the open sea.  Shea had no
idea
towards what she was heading, but did she need to?  The wind ruffled at
her
hair.  She smiled.

I loooove sailing.  Sorry if this RP's incoherent, but I'm listening to
the
new Rage CD.  Anybody have it?  'tis great.  Someone join Shea up here!
 

*~rae
-Shea
-Novitiate

 Land! Blessed, unmoving land! Ariana thought as she made her way slowly out
  of the ship. She had spent far too long waiting for land. At least I don't
  get seasick, she tried to cheer herself up. It didn't work- but the lovely
  solid ground did. For one of the few times in her life, she wanted to run-
  probably the first time, if one didn't count running for fear. She contented
  herself with jumping the last few feet, wobbling to stay up, and then sitting
  down a few feet from where the ship was unloading Black Tower members. What
  was the Old Tongue phrase? "Terra Firma"? [[hehe, it's an OT of the real
  world, anyway!]]
  After a while, though, she had to get up. After all, she had spent enough
  time sitting down in the ship. She got to her feet and went to explore,
  following several others who had the same idea. They rambled around the
  island for a while, probably just glad to be walking on something that wasn't
  slick wet wood and pitching back and forth. She noticed several of the ones
  who had gotten herbs from her were looking extremely relieved to be out of
  the ship, too. She smiled.
  They found various things to eat, but Ariana wasn't hungry. Just being
  outside was enough for now. She continued to wander around, seeing the
  sights and letting the salty breeze blowing from the sea refresh her, then
  turned and walked along the beach. As she stared out over the water,
  however, she realized something. Uh-oh. I don't think clouds are supposed
  to be that color. A dark, stormy-looking group of clouds was making its way
  toward the island. Ariana decided-quickly!- to hurry back and see what the
  group had planned, and to warn them about the storm, though surely the Sea
  Folk would have noticed it too. Still, better two warnings than none.

  Ok, just intro'ing the weather that will take us to the LoM eventually,
  folks. Happy sailing! (esp. if u get seasick during normal travel!!)
  :::laughs:::: oh, boy, here we go!

 The argument with Myiona had ended more or less as Mura'shar expected:
  badly. He hadn't meant to start laughing like that. But Myiona's assertions
  were absolutely ridiculous. Tired of her? What on earth had put that
  thought in her head? But Myiona had stormed out before he could find out. I
  'm not tired of you, I'm worried. Worried that others will think you a fool,
  when I know you're not. But she was already gone, so the thoughts never
  became words.
  He spent the rest of the evening in his cabin. He wanted to go to Myiona
  and apologize for everything he'd ever said or did that could have possibly
  upset her, whether or not she was justified. But he waited. Myiona was far
  too upset to want to listen to anything he'd have to say. Maybe later, when
  tempers had cooled, he could try again.
  ........................................
  When land was sighted, Mura'shar jumped at the chance to go ashore. He
  needed to stretch his legs and wanted to look around. He doubted anyone but
  Sea Folk have stepped foot on this island before. Besides, there were only
  so many card games one could play before growing extremely bored.
  The first boat had already departed, so he joined a few others on a
  second one. Once they landed, Mura'shar found a small stream of fresh water.
  He helped some crew members refill some barrels, then washed his face and
  hands in the cool water. That's the problem with long sea voyages, not
  enough fresh water for a proper bath he thought to himself. He wondered if
  they'd be here long enough for him to take one.
  He finally noticed through the bond that Myiona seemed to have calmed
  down. He sensed she was on the island, but when he turned around to face her
  direction, he only saw the edge of a forest. In fact, Mura'shar realized she
  was quite some distance away. He glanced at the ship. It didn't look like
  they were going to be leaving soon, but he didn't like the looks of the
  clouds headed their way. If she didn't get back here soon, Myiona may be in
  for a drenching.
  With a sigh, Mura'shar headed for the trees. On the way, he called out
  to Alan, who was just landed on the island himself "I'm going to go exploring
  for a bit. I should be back in a couple of hours" Alan just waved and told
  him to be careful.
  He made sure he had his sword. The Light knew what kind of animals were
  on this island. As he headed towards Myiona, he wondered what he was going
  to tell her. Or she to him. What is it about that woman that seems to bring
  out the worst in me? He wondered.

  Jake
  Marked Asha'man

 

  Sarenda sighed in utter relief as she stepped onto the sand. The air was
  fresh and she wanted to do something-anything!- to stretch her legs. On a
  wild impulse- the kind she usually ignored- she gathered up her skirts and
  went flying down the stretch of seashore, laughing, her braid streaming out
  behind her. She soon tired, though, since running in the water and sand was
  not quite like running through grass or on solid dirt. She leaned against a
  strange, many-fronded tree to rest, panting. When she looked back, the ship
  was a distant figure on the water, and the boat that had brought them to the
  shore was barely visible. She grinned, seeing some of the younger novices
  doing exactly what she just had. Light, I haven't behaved that way in years!
  What has gotten into me? But she didn't waste much time on introspection.
  It was too nice a day, and most importantly- she wasn't on a ship, confined
  by cabin walls. She decided she had rested enough, and made her more sedate
  way back to the group. She did not learn much, since not everyone was
  onshore yet, but joined a group that was going to wander about. After
  awhile, the group of adventurers broke up, and Sarenda decided to head
  further toward the opposite side. They had said it was a very small island;
  maybe she could cross it and see the other side. First, though, she stopped
  and checked her braid and clothes; she had no wish to encounter someone
  looking like a shipwreck victim. Reassured that she looked once more the
  sober and mature woman of twenty-six summers that she was , she set out again
  on her quest.
  It didn't take long; an hour and a half brought her to the other side, where
  she discovered a few others who had also had the same idea. They decided to
  return together, a different way than any of them had come. They ended up
  winding through a forested area, when they heard a sound that made most of
  them jump- the whoosh of a sudden, violent wind in the treetops. Sarenda
  couldn't be sure, but the sky through the cover of the trees looked darker.
  "I think we'd better hurry!" she advised the others, who needed no
  encouragement. They made it back to find the sky nearly overtaken with dark
  stormclouds, and hastily followed the other members of the Tower inside. Love
  ly, the first time we get to be out of the ship, and it rains. I hope it
  blows over before we have to leave!

  Ok, not too bad, i guess. but now u'll have to go get Myiona in the rain if
  u don't hurry! :::laughs::: i hate bad weather!

 Myiona felt Mura'shar's presence as soon as he stepped onto the island.
  As she walked through the woods, she knew he was heading towards her. "It is
  this light blasted bond," she lamented. "He finds me no matter where I go.
  I do not want to deal with him now!"
  She started running away from where she thought he was coming from. The
  woods began thinning out again and she hurried out into the open land. She
  looked up and saw the dark clouds overhead. "Great," she exclaimed, "it is
  going to storm. That is just what I need."
  She scanned her surroundings and decided that the cliff area would be her
  best chance of finding shelter. She had seen no buildings, or any other type
  of structure during the time she had been exploring.
  As the first drops of rain fell, Myiona found a cave and jumped inside.
  A globe of light in hand, she stepped back into the darkness to wait out the
  rain. "Well," she muttered, "at least I found a place to be alone."
  The cave seemed to go back for quite a bit farther. Fearing that she
  might get lost if there were any side passages, Myiona decided to stay close
  to the doorway. She dimmed the light somewhat and sat down on a rock.

  Vicky
  aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
  Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 
  Stopped at an island for supplies. Talia leaned over the railing and
  looked over the land at which they had paused their journey for a time. Her
  legs wished to roam all over that island. It was the adventurous part of
  her. But an eye cut over at the clouds in the distance discouraged such a
  notion. Talia had seen Myiona leave earlier, but she, herself, had been
  busy at the time. She cut her eyes over at Alan who was dealing with the
  Sea Folk. Talia smiled her smirkish yet dreamy smile as she watched, Alan's
  back turned to her. She considered telling him on this journey that she'd
  accept his offer of bonding. But, as is Talia's adventurous nature, she
  intended to make him wait for the answer.

  Turning, she saw another of the Dragonsworn.. -or was she an Initiate or
  Novitiate? Talia could never tell, she didn't pay attention much to the
  rankings- She approached her and tapped her shoulder. "Looks like we're in
  for a bit of high sea adventure pretty soon, eh?" Talia's Saldaean features
  flashed an almost conspiratorial grin at the woman she had yet to meet.. the
  nod of her chin indicated the dark clouds in the distance.

  ____
  OOC: Any of the women still on board can step in here :-)

  ~Talia Daimar
  ~Dragonsworn
  <><

 
  It felt good to be at sea again. The wind blowing through ones hair, the
  salty sea air, the gentle sway of the ships, it all made one feel alive.
  Xyranthes, unlike most of the other men of the Black tower, roamed the deck
  of the ship, enjoying the brief moment of peace. It felt good to surprise the
  Althaa Meire or the Athaan Miere, as they called themselves now, but acting
  as if nothing was out of the ordinary in the way they dressed. All part of
  the great game, to show nothing to anyone that could be used. And besides, it
  was fun to pop the notion that all land dwellers where easily embarrassed.
  With the help of several of the Dragon sworn, the translations of the ancient
  texts detailing the travels of the Althaa Meire, the ancestors of the men and
  women on whose ship they now sailed, was well on the way to being finished.
  The book spoke of how the world had been split into three continents, one now
  ruled by the Seanchean, the land to the South, and the continent that they
  called home. Of the first two continents nothing was spoken, only a few vague
  warnings of imminent peril to any who dared venture near those lands. One
  brief passage mentioned something about how great storms would often send
  ships to crash into the rocks near the southern continent, destroying the
  ships and killing the crews with the full fury of the sea, but that was all
  Xyranthes could find in the text, nothing about the people or the customs.
  As the ship neared land, Xyranthes looked out at the massive black storm
  clouds on the far horizon.
  "Will you come onto the Island with us?" Young Alan asked as he passed the
  elderly Asha'man.
  "No, I will stay on deck, and speak to the Sail mistress if I can." And with
  that, Xyranthes headed off to find her.

  Peter
  <><

 
  The rock was not comfortable to sit upon. Myiona stood and decided to
  explore the rest of the cave. A long passage way opened into a circular
  chamber. Pictures had been painted upon the walls, depicting some kind of
  horrible event. The floor was covered with white sand. Scattered around the
  "room" were chairs that seemed to have been made from huge stones.
  Myiona was studying them when she heard a voice behind her. "So this is
  where you went to," Mura'shar said. "Aren't you a little old to be running
  away when things get difficult?"
  "I wasn't running away," Myiona declared. "I needed a chance to think.
  I wanted to be alone for a while. Something that I cannot do on a ship
  crowded with Atha'an Miere and members of the Black Tower."
  "I can understand that," he said with a small smile. "This looks like a
  good place for solitude." He stopped and looked up at the pictures on the
  wall.
  She walked over to one of the "chairs" and sat down. Myiona reached up
  and rubbed her temples. She had been having headaches since she had tried to
  heal the Atha'an Miere woman. They had not gotten better with rest, but
  seemed to be getting worse.
  "Why are you following me everywhere I go?" she asked sarcastically.
  "Are you afraid I will do something else to embarrass you? I doubt even I
  can get into much trouble in this cave. I am sure you have more important
  things to do than spend time with me."
  The walls of the cave seemed to be closing in on her and she was having
  trouble breathing. Shadows flickered upon the walls. Myiona felt her chest
  tightening up. She gasped for breath. Then everything went black.

  Vicky
  aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
  Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 Sarenda decided, once she had reached the group, she might as well go
  back and try her hand at translating the old texts the Atha'an Miere had
  found for them. She wasn't bad at untangling the Old Tongue, and besides,
  history was interesting.
  There was the minor problem of the coming rain, of course- but if the Sea
  Folk could stay on their ship through it, as well as some of the Dragonsworn
  and Asha'man, surely she could as well. She had never gotten seasick, and
  enjoyed the trip most when the ride was wildest, so she convinced a returning
  Sea Folk sailor to bring her back to the ship too.
  Once there, she was greeted by a Saldaean woman who smiled and asked,
  "Looks like we're in for a bit of high sea adventure soon, eh?" Sarenda
  grinned back, and tossed her braid over her shoulder. "You got the 'high'
  part right, at least," she replied wryly, looking at the water which was
  already beginning to toss uneasily. "As for the adventure- that's up to us,
  isn't it? And fate." She leaned against the railing, letting the wind scour
  her face as she closed her eyes. "Funny, " she mused, "I always loved the
  sea, but I'd actually never seen it until after I made Aes Sedai." She
  looked over at the other woman when she laughed. "I love it too," she said.
  "It's just so... so..." Sarenda laughed again. "I know exactly what you
  mean!" Soon though, she remembered her original purpose in coming back, and
  excused herself. "I'm sorry to run, but I thought I'd go help out below. I
  get distracted so easily, sometimes... I'm glad to have met you, Talia!" She
  made her way to the level below the deck where Xyranthes and a few other
  laborious souls were working over the books. "Hey, need any help? Or just
  another brain?" She offered, and was gestured to come over. At least the
  Asha'man didn't give her strange looks anymore, as though she was a Red
  prisoner- or at least, most didn't. Some of the younger ones, she had
  noticed, still looked at her with distrust. But now, at least, she was
  welcomed here, so she set to work on the old, mouldy, and archaic words being
  slowly deciphered. History truly was fascinating!

 The sea animal had an odd, sweet taste. Janara couldn't figure out what it
  reminded her of...maybe some sort of tree sap.
  "What is this sweetened with?" Janara asked.
  Locke shook his head. "It's not sweetened with anything." Locke had invited
  Janara out for a bite to eat once the ship landed.
  Janara grinned. "You're teasing me again, aren't you?" she said, "Trying to find
  what this 'stupid foreigner' will believe. Haven't I apologized enough for
  accusing you of putting 'my associates' up to taking off their clothes..."
  "It was just their tops," Locke said grinning.
  "ok, 'tops', haven't I had enough teasing, haven't I paid my penance yet, by the
  light, you are..." Janara was about to say 'worse than any instructor I ever had
  at the tower...
  "I am not teasing at all - the sweet flavor is natural for that type of squid,
  we actually cook them in water to boil the sweet flavor out and use that for
  our,
  well, what you call 'sugar', but eating it raw keeps..."
  "Raw!?" Janara said. She let her fork fall to the table. "This isn't cooked?"
  Janara felt sick to her stomach. Locke snickered and nodded. "Aren't you
  afraid
  of disease?! The traveling people always cook our food - at least those of us
  who
  eat any sort of meat, and..."
  "No one ever got sick from the squid, and we have been eating it raw for
  generations." Janara raised an eyebrow. "We have ships whose only purpose is
  to
  capture the squid, we have famous books about the hunt and..."
  "I get the point, Locke," Janara interrupted. She smiled to herself. She did
  not really want to spend her short time away from the ship alone with Locke
  talking about squid. She wished the conversation would turn to something more,
  well, personal.
  "What is upsetting you," Locke asked, "and don't blame it on Myiona or your
  other
  friends." Janara was startled by the question and his comment about Myiona.
  She
  wondered for a minute how he knew she wanted to talk about that, could he be a
  male chan...
  "And don't accuse me of having ability with this 'power' you speak of," he
  said
  as if reading her mind, "That is for women. It is simply clear on your face
  that
  something is bothering you." Locke reached for Janara's hand and held it, "I
  think I know what it is."
  Janara tilted her head. She said nothing.
  "You are quite lovely when you have such a challenge in you eye," Locke said.
  He sighed. There was another silence. Janara was not going to say anything.
  "You are jealous," Locke whispered.
  Janara stood up. Her chair tipped but she caught it before it fell. "Oh
  please!"
  she said "Why would I be jealous of Myiona! She's the one..."
  "I said nothing of Myiona," Locke grinned. "Why would you assume I was
  speaking
  about her, Janara?" Janara sat back down but said nothing. Inside she wanted
  to
  run. Jealous?
  "Though you are jealous of her too, in a way," before Janara could protest
  Locke added, "would it make a difference if you knew she apologized to thae
  Sailmistress? Would that make you feel foolish? And she paid extra for
  the'insult', out of her own money."
  Janara made a "humph" noise. She had planned on giving Myiona a piece of her
  mind about the incident but had second thought now. Perhaps she had some sense.
  Then another thing Locke said came to mind.
  "What do you mean, 'in a way'?"
  "In the same way you are jealous of La'rece."
  "La'rece?! What do you know about..."
  "You have been talking about you and Ivan and La'rece and how wonderful your
  relationship is all day and..."
  "But she IS like a sister," Janara defended, "And Ivan IS like a brother. And
  I
  love being bonded to the both of them and I wouldn't want to change a thing in
  our
  relationship so don't try to give me any of this jealousy crap..."
  "And all that is true," Locke said. "I don't doubt it for a minute."
  "So?"
  "My point is this," Locke said, "You are not jealous of their relationship
  specifically, and you are not jealous of Myiona's relationship specifically -
  what
  you ARE jealous of is that they have A relationship." Locke leaned over the
  table
  and looked Janara in the eye. She could almost feel the pounding of his heart.
  He
  was so close. His hand felt warm and soothing. There was sweetness on his
  breath.
  "That has got to be the longest, most calculated lead in to a pick up line I
  have
  ever heard," Janara said after what seemed eons to her. She pulled away and
  picked up her drink. It crashed to the floor. She looked at her hands. They
  were
  shaking. Her whole body was shaking.
  ___________________________________________________________________

  Janara Dragonsworn

  -val

 
  It didn't take Mura'shar long to realize Myiona was avoiding him. She
  couldn't stay out of sight this long unless she didn't want to be found. The
  island wasn't all THAT big. But the air had to be cleared with the two of
  them, so he kept searching
  When the storm broke, it only took him a couple of seconds to weave a
  shield of Air to keep the rain off. However, those few seconds were all it
  took to soak him. Wishing he had enough skill with Water to dry himself off,
  he looked around for possible shelters Myiona may have sought. She was
  close, and in that direction...
  He ducked into a small cave and saw a light flickering in the distance.
  He sensed Myiona was just ahead, so he decided to proceed. He followed the
  light until the passage opened up into a round chamber
  Myiona was there. She was holding a globe of light aloft and was
  examining some pictures on a wall. She looked completely dry. Myiona must
  have found this cave before the storm started.
  "So this is where you went to," Mura'shar said. Now that he knew she
  was safe, a bit of his old annoyance crept back into his voice "Aren't you a
  little old to be running away when things get difficult?"
  "I wasn't running away," Myiona declared. "I needed a chance to think.
  I wanted to be alone for a while. Something that I cannot do on a ship
  crowded with Atha'an Miere and members of the Black Tower."
  "I can understand that," he said with a small smile. It was a bit
  cramped on the ship "This looks like a good place for solitude." He stopped
  and looked up at the pictures on the wall. Some of the images were pretty
  horrific. He couldn't imagine anyone wanting to be alone here for long.
  Myiona sat down on what looked like a chair carved completely of stone
  and rubbed her temples. Then she blurted out "Why are you following me
  everywhere I go? Are you afraid I will do something else to embarrass you? I
  doubt even I can get into much trouble in this cave. I am sure you have more
  important things to do than spend time with me."
  Mura'shar went over to her. She must not be feeling well. Myiona's
  always been a woman of strong emotions, but her temper has been shorter than
  usual of late. It's a wonder she hasn't pulled a knife on someone yet.
  Perhaps she's been suffering from migraine headaches or something similar.
  Before he could ask her what's wrong, Myiona started gasping. She
  couldn't seem to get enough air in her lungs Her eyes lost focus. Mura'shar
  caught her just as she started to slump over unconscious.
  "Myiona!" he shouted, but got no response. He checked her breathing and
  pulse. Both seemed normal now. He checked her for injuries, but found none.
  Even a Delving showed nothing physically wrong with her. Not that he could
  do much if there was. Not for the first time, he cursed his lack of Healing
  skill.
  As the storm raged outside, Mura'shar cradled Myiona in his arms,
  wondering what happened to her and how to get her back to camp. He gently
  laid her down on the sand and began studying the cave. If she doesn't come
  to in a couple of hours, I can at least try to make a gateway.

  Jake
  Marked Asha'man

 Myiona opened her eyes slowly and sat up. He seemed to be studying
  the walls of the cave still and she wondered what had happened. The last
  thing she remembered was sitting in the stone chair. Now, she was lying on
  the sand floor of the cave. At least her head did not hurt anymore.
  As she sat up, Mura'shar turned around with a concerned look on his
  face. "How do you feel?" he asked walking over to kneel beside her. "I was
  worried about you when you passed out like that."
  "I passed out?" Myiona asked. "I do not remember anything except a
  headache and then waking up here on the floor. I think I am okay now. Maybe
  it was just being in this cave for so long. Do you think it has stopped
  raining yet?"
  "You would tell me," Mura'shar asked seriously, "if you knew
  something was wrong, wouldn't you? I know I am not much of a healer, but we
  could find someone who could help."
  "Nothing is wrong," Myiona answered. "I have been having
  headaches, but that is not something horrible. Will you please go and see if
  it has stopped raining? I would like to get back to the ship before a search
  party is sent out. Stevan would just love an excuse to give my job to
  someone else."
  Mura'shar gave her a strange look, but went back to the entrance of
  the cave. Myiona stood slowly and looked again at the paintings on the wall.
  The scenes were of terror and destruction. She knew she would never forget
  seeing them.
  "It has not completely stopped raining," he said stepping back into
  the cavern, "but it has slowed a bit. We should probably go ahead and try to
  head back to the ship. If you need any help on the way let me know."
  "I made it up here fine," Myiona laughed. "I am sure I can make
  it back down." She quickly began walking back toward the beach. The others
  had ferried out to the ship, leaving a small boat and two men to wait on
  Myiona and Mura'shar. Within a few minutes they were back on the ship and it
  began moving again.
  Myiona and Mura'shar headed back to the cabin they were sharing and
  changed out of their wet clothing. Afterwards, he suggested they go to the
  galley to get some food. "No," Myiona said, "I won't go back out there. I
  want to stay in here. I would rather not eat than go out there." She rubbed
  her temples and lay down on the bed.

  Vicky
  aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
  Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 Ariana looked out at the pouring rain and sighed. It had been so nice....
  Abruptly she decided to go out, rain or no rain. After all, she wouldn't die
  from getting wet. And of all people, a healer ought to know what's lethal!
  She ignored the nagging thought of pneumonia and worse brought on by the
  cold. She knew how to prevent it; besides, if she got too cold, she could
  simply make a rainshield. She stood and let the others know where she was
  going. A few eyebrows were raised, and skeptical looks shared, but she was
  not barred from her idea. Let them think me odd for wanting to limp around
  through this kind of weather then, she thought dismissively, It's far better
  than sitting around waiting here.
  Ariana decided to stick to the shoreline as she wandered, since it was clear
  of storm-blown trees and angry or frightened wildlife- she hoped! The waves
  were pounding the sand hard already, even though the rain had been coming
  down for only a few minutes. It took about half a second before she was
  drenched through to the skin, but the rain wasn't very cold, and she didn't
  mind. There's something about thunderous, stormy grey skies that's prettier
  than the bluest blue, she thought. "It just looks...wilder," she spoke her
  thoughts aloud, since no one was around to hear her musings. "Wilder and-and
  more interesting. And more to be respected."
  "Ouch!" Ariana looked down. "Speaking of respect..." she trailed off as she
  saw what the last unruly wave had thrown at her ankle. Some sort of
  cylinder, not a rock as she had assumed when she felt it strike her. She
  stooped and picked it up. It was about as long as her thumb, just slightly
  thicker, and heavier than a stone that size would be. Hmmm, now what might
  you be, strange thing? It was carved in spirals, she noticed abruptly.
  Words? They were pictures, not letters, it seemed, but the way they were
  strung together seemed reminiscent of writing. "Odd." She turned it between
  her fingers. A sudden, wild thought struck her; she embraced saidar gladly
  and held it. The rock-thing did not resonate. "So, whatever you are, you
  are no mysterious ter'angreal of amazing powers, at least." It was not much
  of a disappointment, since such things only happened in tales- and
  particularly bad ones, at that- but still, to be the discoverer of a great
  ter'angreal would be nice. No such luck, I guess, she thought dryly (the
  only part of her that was dry by now!) and dropped it in her pocket. When
  she returned, soaked quite thoroughly but not hurrying, she showed it to the
  Asha'man in the boat. They, too, could make nothing of it, so Ariana put it
  out of her mind. An interesting contribution to the Tower library for when
  she returned. Now, however, she would turn her mind to the more relevant
  mystery of the ancient Sea Folk histories on the boat. Too bad this weather
  wrecked our resting time, but at least we'll all be working more on the only
  directions we have. She made her way carefully down below the deck to where
  the others were hard at work, the mysterious not-rock already forgotten.

  Ok, just felt like doing something interesting, i don't know what the rock
  thing is. Maybe part of Myiona's cave?? dunno. anyway, work hard at that
  book so we can get out of here! ::laughs ::: Seas are more fun than rainy
  islands! (even if the sea is raiiny, too.)
  ~Erin

 
  Tareena sat idly watching the rain splash upon the deck, running in
  rivulets down the grooves worn with time in the grain of the wood, finally
  making it's way over the side to join with the great expanse of ocean. The
  hood of her cloak pressed upon her hair, but incased her in it's warmth. The
  crew had decided to go ahead and leave the relative safety of the island
  inlet, thinking that the brief storm would play itself out and not interfere
  with their travels. Tareena trusted the judgment of the Salmistriss of the
  ship but a deep foreboding, born of instinct and her own knowledge of the
  sea, led her to a different conclusion. Whitecaps danced along the water,
  churning and spitting spray high into the air, joining with what the heavens
  were dropping upon the earth. Tareena had watched the windfinder weave her
  flows, and also saw the look of frustration cross her face when the clouds
  refused to answer her call. The power had an odd feeling, indescribable.
  Tareena knew that both men and women were channeling aboard the ship and yet
  she could almost sense the power being used elsewhere. Shaking her head, she
  gently scolded herself for thinking so negatively. You are just imagining
  things. No one else has mentioned anything remotely resembling what you are
  feeling. Get a hold of yourself.
  Hearing footsteps, Tareena turned to see Mur'ashar making his way
  towards her. Tareena could tell by the look on his face that he was worried
  about something. She had watched he and Myiona board the ship earlier and
  could tell that they had been arguing. She wondered of that is all it was.
  "Hello Mur'ashar, what are you doing out in the weather?"
  "The same thing you are doing, I suspect. It gets a little
  claustrophobic down below after a while. I need the air, even if it is laced
  with moisture." Trying his best to put a grin on his face at his attempt at
  a joke, they both knew he had failed miserably. "What's the matter
  Mur'ashar? Would you like to talk about it?" Tareena could see him
  hesitate, almost taking her up on her offer but then stopping himself.
  "Nothing a little time won't take care of I suppose. But thank you for
  asking, just the same."
  They stood in companionable silence, watching clouds forming in the sky.
  It began to grow darker, dusk finally settling over the ship. "Well, I
  guess I will go in now, it's about time for chow and then off to bed."
  Tareena watched his retreating back, wishing that she could have helped him
  but knowing that he wasn't ready to talk. I guess I should do the same. I'm
  not a bit hungry though. Maybe I will find someone who wants to play some
  cards with me. Or maybe I will just hit the sack, it's been a long day.
  With a thump, Tareena found herself plastered up against the wall and
  the next moment, trying valiantly to stay in the bed. The ship rolled and
  pitched in time to the waves, heaving and trying mightily to stay upright.
  Tareena dressed as best she could, finding that she had to pick herself up
  off of the floor several times. She made her way out onto the deck, watching
  Sea Folk men scurrying around, following orders. Huge waves buffeted the
  vessel, threatening to capsize even a ship of it's size. Only the skill of
  the people in the crew were keeping them safe. Lightening forked from the
  sky and thunder cracked. Rain flew almost horizontally, driven by the wind.
  Other members of the tower made their way out, trying to see what was
  happening. Knowing that they were potentially putting themselves at risk,
  Tareena ordered all but the most seasoned back below deck, with instructions
  to warn the others to stay below. Turning a grim face back towards the sea,
  Tareena knew that her instinct of earlier was correct and they were in very
  real danger. Gripping the rails of the ship, she sent a silent prayer to the
  light.
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  ---------------------------------------------
  OK guys, this is the beginning of the terrible storms about to rack our boat.
  These are supposed to last for days, let's make the most of it :)

  Lisa
  Guardian of the BT

 Ariana remained sensibly belowdeck once the storm increased. She had enough
  trouble getting around the Light-cursed boat when it was gently rocking. If
  she tried to go out now, she'd end up tossed overboard before she set foot on
  deck. Just my luck, all those nice days of peace, and then, without warning-
  thunder crashed- this huge storm blows in! Just marvelous. She was facing
  extreme boredom, too; there was very little to do on a ship, especially when
  the normal things like walking the decks and admiring the view were out. She
  sighed in frustration. Staring at wooden walls was most definitely not great
  entertainment. The tossing of the boat also prohibited reading, but Ariana
  didn't care by now. She'd just suffer the headache the bouncing book would
  bring on. She dug through her packs to find something; an old- very old!-
  treatise on Healing would do. Even if a half- unreadable lecture on
  channeling techniques isn't the best thing to try and make out as it bobs up
  and down. She felt like reading it; maybe somewhere in its crumpled pages
  was an answer- or even a clue- of how to heal the Windfinders. Slowly,
  Ariana sat up on the bed, and watched the ship's movement for a moment.
  Then, calculating the next great heave, stood up as the boat rolled. She
  went flying- and landed half on her packs and half on the hard wooden floor.
  Lovely, another bruise, this time on my shoulder. Still, she wouldn't
  complain. After all, she'd made it to the packs where the book was. Finding
  it was easy; she knew where she'd put it. To get back across the cabin she
  repeated her action of the first "trip" and landed, luckily, on the bed.
  "Oomph!" She rolled across it and was stopped by the wall. Sitting up, she
  settled herself braced in the corner and began to read, determined to find
  the clue to the Windfinder mystery- or at least pass the time.

  ~Yuk, storms are no fun when you can't do anything in them! How long do we
  have to suffer this awful weather? And are we lucky, and the ship lands at
  the LoM, or do we crash?
  ~E

 Sarenda had never seen such awful weather. The sky was obscured by the
  thick, evil-looking clouds, except where the murky gray covering was split
  and vaporized by thick streaks of lightning. The booming of the thunder was
  insistent and very loud.
  Suddenly she was very glad she had not stayed on deck. She had sailed in bad
  weather, but this was worse than anything she'd ever experienced. Not even
  that time going around Tear, or through Windbiter's Finger. She shuddered. N
  ow, what can I do while I wait for this storm to go away? She looked around,
  and decided that there wasn't much to do while the ship was tossing like
  this- anything that involved a movable object would be extremely difficult.
  As if to underscore that thought, her bags of clothing began to slide across
  the floor towards her as the ship ducked into a huge trough. "Hmm," Sarenda
  murmured to herself. "What is there to do?" About the only things one could
  do without movable props was talk, or think, or- "Aha!" She would go on
  deck after all, and watch the Windfinder work, and if it looked like
  something she could do, she would volunteer her own efforts. Sarenda smiled.
  She'd get a real close look at the storm, after all. Still smiling, and
  holding to the walls with all her might, she struggled toward the upper deck.

  [[Well, here goes an exercise in futility, but at least I can use it to
  "learn" something... training, and all that. =) ]]

 Myiona sat upon the small bed with her knees pulled up to her chest.
  Outside the storm howled and rage against the ship. She could feel herself
  shivering in fear, but could not stop no matter what she did. She put her
  hands over her ears trying to block out the sound.
  The door opened and Mura'shar stepped inside. Myiona looked up briefly,
  but even his presence did not ease the terror she felt. Her mind was
  screaming for her to run and escape the madness, but there was nowhere to run
  on a boat. She was tempted to open a gateway and get back to the mainland,
  but so far had managed to fight the desire to flee.
  She began humming a song her mother used to sing to her at night when she
  was a small child. The ship lurched as a wave crashed against the side and
  she barely managed to stay on the bed. She jumped from the bed and embraced
  the source, opening a gateway to someplace safe.

  Vicky
  aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
  Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 
  Sarenda finally reached the pitching, heaving deck of the ship and cautiously
  felt her way along the rails and walls to where the Windfinder was standing.
  For a while, she clung to a rope for dear life and watched the woman use her
  strength in the Power to fight the elements. When she thought she had
  figured it out, she began to add her strength to the Windfinder's. Asking
  was out of the question when the wind was screaming louder than a human could
  ever manage. The woman gave her a surprised look, but apparently realized
  the help was needed, and spared her a grateful glance as the two of them
  struggled against far stronger powers. She tried to do what she had observed
  the Windfinder doing, and managed fairly well. This is certainly a case of
  "learn to swim or drown," Sarenda thought wryly. No time for instruction,
  just do what you think will work! Still, "working" wasn't what she'd term
  this little exercise. The two of them were getting nowhere. After nearly an
  hour of trying, switching from technique to technique, Sarenda resigned
  herself to knowing the best they would accomplish would be to keep the ship
  at least close to upright. A non- channeler would have as much effect trying
  to stop the wind. Another hour brought them into a sort of lull in the
  weather; not so much a lull as a slight lessening of the stormwinds. Sarenda
  left to try and sleep. An hour of straight channelling, though no doubt good
  exercise, was extremely difficult. Besides, the Windfinder would need to
  sleep too, while she could. I think I'll propose to the others that we offer
  to help, at least the women. After all, we want the ship to stay afloat as
  much as the Windfinder does, so we ought to help. She decided to bring it up
  the next time she ran into one of the leaders- after she slept.

  I think we oughta help, guys; we're on the ship and we don't wanna sink, do
  we? So someone take thiis and work out shifts or something- maybe we can get
  the sea folk on our side- and make restitution for those of us who
  behaved...hmm, inappropriately??... on the way here. Whatcha think? Even if
  we can't stop the storm, we could at least have something to do- but only if
  ur good enough at ships to stand up on that light-forsaken deck w/o going
  overboard...
  @ ~~Sarenda/Jenna~~

 Myiona seemed to be feeling better when he got her back to the ship, but
  Mura'shar was still concerned. That...seizure...whatever it was, showed that
  something was definitely wrong, however she protested that she was fine.
  He stepped out on deck to get some fresh air and clear his thoughts. He
  couldn't blame Myiona for staying in the cabin. If he'd put on a performance
  as she did, he'd want to spend the rest of his trip in the cabin too.
  The weather had turned again, and wind and rain tore at his hair and his
  coat. But he tried to ignore it. Nothing's wrong. You checked her
  yourself. Stop worrying so much and get something to eat.
  Tareena saw him walking by and greeted him. "Hello Mura'shar, what are
  you doing out in the weather?"
  "The same thing you are doing, I suspect. It gets a little
  claustrophobic down below after a while. I need the air, even if it is laced
  with moisture." He was forcing himself to grin. He didn't feel much like
  bantering at the moment, and Tareena sensed it.
  "What's the matter Mura'shar? Would you like to talk about it?"
  Mura'shar almost told her everything. Myiona's unusually sharp temper,
  her running off, that strange attack she suffered. But what did it ad up to?
  Was he being overprotective again? That Myiona's being Myiona, only more
  so? No, he won't say anything until he's certain there's something to be
  concerned about.
  ""Nothing a little time won't take care of I suppose. But thank you for
  asking, just the same."
  They stood together, watching the storm for a few more minutes, until
  Mura'shar felt his stomach growling. He excused himself and went to the
  galley.
  Dinner appeared to be composed of bread, cheese, and meat. Food that
  won't cause to much of a mess if it should be spilled during the storm. Of
  course, the galley was nearly empty. Even people with strong stomachs
  apparently don't want to risk it by eating while the ship is pitching the way
  it is. Truth be told, more people were playing cards in the galley than
  eating.
  After chatting for a little while with the Asha'man and Dragonsworn who
  were present, Mura'shar took a small platter of food back to the cabin. An
  interesting feat of balance and skill with the One Power, as it turned out.
  When he got there, he saw Myiona was already awake.
  She looked up when Mura'shar entered, but quickly looked away, like she
  was trying to find another way out of the cabin. She was shivering and
  humming to herself. He thought it was some child's song. Mura'shar set the
  platter down on the cabin's tiny table and walked over to the bed.
  The ship lurched as a particularly large wave hit it and Myiona leaped to
  her feet. The food crashed to the floor at the same time Mura'shar shivered
  as she channeled something.
  It looked like the beginnings of a gateway, but collapsed and winked out
  of existence before it could begin to open. Myiona gaped at the spot where
  the gateway should have opened in horror, then fell to the floor weeping.
  "I have to get away. I have to get away" she moaned She shivered in
  terror and began rocking back and forth.
  All thoughts of food fled from Mura'shar's mind. He knelt down and
  seized Myiona's shoulders, forcing her to look him in the eye. "What's wrong
  Myiona? What happened? Did something happen while I was gone?"
  Mura'shar seized sadin, using his enhanced senses to scan the room. It
  appeared to be empty except for the two of them. But Myiona was frightened
  to incoherency by something, wasn't she? But all she'd say was repeating her
  need to get away.
  She kept trying to form a gateway, but they would never open for her We'
  re still moving, our position relative to where she wants to go is changing,
  the gateways are collapsing before they can open.
  Myiona clutched Mura'shar tightly and wept into his collar. He could
  feel her heart hammering in her chest. He tried to get up to get help, but
  she wouldn't step let him. She was too afraid to let him go. Mura'shar
  resigned himself to trying to soothe Myiona while going through the names of
  Healers in the Black Tower. Maybe Ariana can help...once I can leave the
  cabin again, that is.
  When Myiona finally seemed to fall asleep, Mura'shar laid her on the bed
  and quietly slipped out. I'll have to be discrete. Myiona won't thank me
  for telling anyone about this, but if the whole Tower found out, she'd skin
  me alive.

  Jake
  Marked Asha'man

 The island was peaceful, and the scents that blew in from the land had
  settled Andraia's stomach. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly,
  feeling the tension that had built up on the ship leave with her exhaled
  breath. She truly hated the sea, hated all things that moved without her
  making it move with the sole exception of horses, and even she and horses
  barely got along. When travelling she preferred to use her own two feet,
  thank you very much. However, that wasn't possible on this trip. Taking
  another deep breath she prepared herself mentally for the continuation of the
  voyage, determined that this time she wouldn't sick up all over the floor.
  That was quite enough of that for one day.
  Stevan was looking at her out of the corner of his eye, obviously amused
  about something. She turned back to look over the island, deciding that if
  he was going to tell her what he found so amusing he would do so without any
  help from her. She refused to let curiosity overcome her; she had let her
  emotions run loose far too much lately, even though it was just with Stevan.
  She allowed a tiny smile to tug up the corner of her lips at the thought --
  Stevan wouldn't betray her weakness to the others.
  The breeze swirled around her, tugging at her skirt and pushing her hood
  back. She flung up her hand to protect her eyes... then realized that there
  was no longer any sun to burn them. She wasn't sure if the sun had gone
  down, but one thing was certain... large, black stormclouds had rolled in,
  rumbling angrily as lights lit up the interior. She turned to point them out
  to Stevan, but he had already seen them.
  "We should go back to the camp! This hill is the worst place we could
  be!" he half-shouted over the roar of the rising wind, but she shook her
  head, her hands occupied with keeping her hair untangled and her cloak on her
  shoulders.
  "No, we should go back to the ship! The camp will blow away in this
  wind!" the thought of being on the ship in this storm made her stomach lurch,
  but the ship would be drier and less fragile then the cloth of a tent.
  Stevan thought for a moment, then gestured her on, obviously agreeing. She
  led the way back to the ship, her head lowered and her body hunched, trying
  to make as small a target as possible as the rain began to fall.

  Andraia had begun to regret her suggestion that they return to the ship
  the moment they set foot on the heaving decks. Her stomach seemed to move
  opposite the ship, and with every lurch she began to turn a deeper shade of
  green, while her face somehow managed to become whiter. Stevan gently took
  her arm and led her to a sheltered side, obviously realizing that, if he took
  her down to her room, he'd have a much larger mess to clean up. Andraia
  pursed her lips and clenched the fabric of her dress, determined that she
  wouldn't be sick. If she didn't think about it, perhaps she wouldn't
  vomit... not that there was anything left in her stomach to find its way to
  the surface. Her stomach heaved again, obviously determined to prove her
  wrong about having nothing left in it and she heaved, a dry rasping sound,
  since she had been correct about there being nothing left in her stomach.
  Stevan saw this and placed an arm around her shoulders and turning her toward
  the hatch, realizing that if would be better if she was laying down.
  The boat heaved again as they were going down the passageway and they
  fell against the side. Andraia winced; she had smashed her shoulder into the
  wall, and with her fragile skin there would be a large, nasty bruise there.
  They staggered back to their feet and started forward again, weaving from
  side to side with the motions of the ship. The door to her room appeared and
  she opened it gratefully, making her way to her tiny bed before collapsing
  into it with a groan. Stevan carefully made his way out, casting back an
  admonition to sleep before he exited. Privately she doubted that it was
  possible, but she wrapped herself in the blankets and closed her eyes.
  Constructing her old wall of ice around her emotions she finally found relief
  from her sickness -- it was still there, but it was distant, as thoug she was
  feeling someone else's illness. Her lack of sleep all during the voyage
  finally caught up to her and she sank into an exhausted, dreamless sleep, her
  last thought that of a prayer that someone would awaken her if the boat began
  to sink.

  Andraia Korinth

 When the gateway closed, Myiona fell to the floor and began crying. She
  rocked back and forth like a child repeating, "I have to get away."
  Mura'shar knelt beside her and grabbed her. She knew he was speaking to her,
  asking her questions, but her mind would not focus on anything except fear.
  Over and over she tried to form gateways that seemed to disappear before
  they were even completed. Mura'shar pulled her close and she cried holding
  on to him tightly. Myiona closed her eyes and leaned against him feeling a
  safe in his arms. She could feel herself falling asleep and surrendered to
  the escape from her terror.
  Myiona awoke, the ship's motion had calmed and she could stand again.
  The growling in her stomach could not be ignored and she walked out of the
  cabin toward the galley. There were a few people inside playing cards and
  talking quietly. Some looked up as she entered, and she even saw a smirk on
  a couple of faces.
  She realized that some were going to try to hold the topless incident
  against her. She almost laughed at the idea of a Domani being embarrassed
  about anything. She grabbed a roll and some cheese and headed up to the deck
  of the ship.
  The storm was still all around the ship, but they seemed to be in the
  storm's eye. She walked over to where the Windfinder was talking with the
  Sailmistress. Myiona nodded to them both and listened to their discussion.
  "The only safe place is in the eye," the Windfinder said. "If we can
  move the storm along with us so that we stay in its eye perhaps we can get to
  the island safely."
  "No," the Sailmistress protested, "then we would have the force of the
  storm hitting the island while we were trying to land the people from the
  Black Tower there. There must be another way."
  "What about a shield around the boat?" Myiona offered. "That would
  protect us from the worst of the storm as we cut our way through."
  "Impossible," they both said. The Sailmistress continued, "It would take
  at least a dozen strong channelers who could link at a moment's notice. Of
  course, if you could get all of your channelers up here before we pass
  through the eye it might be possible."

  Vicky
  aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
  Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 
  Tareena stood clutching the rail of the ship, breathing deeply from her
  excursions of trying to cross the length of the ship. She had been watching
  and lending a hand with the Sea Folk windfinder, along with others of the
  tower. She had began going it alone when the channeler and Sarenda had to
  take a rest. Realizing that there was no way she could continue, Tareena
  asked Darren to go below and start organizing shifts for the female
  channelers to lend a hand. After being replaced, Tareena had struggled to
  reach the other end of the ship, and relative safety below deck. She needed
  to check on everyone, make sure they were doing well in the face of the
  rocking and tossing of the ship.
  Moving through the galley and down the corridor, Tareena stopped to
  speak to several people along the way. Tight lipid and somewhat fearful,
  they answered her back with the bravery she knew was inherent to her sisters
  and brothers. Tareena was proud of the way they were handling themselves.
  She found Darren speaking with Stevan and Alan, speculating on the length of
  the storm and the possibility of being on a wild goose chase in the middle of
  a hurricane. Tareena fleetingly though of telling the gentleman about her
  weird feelings above deck, of how the power seemed to be restless, having a
  mind of it's own, but thought better of it. It's probably just me being
  tired and my imagination. No one else has mentioned anything about it. Why
  cause needless worry anyway. It's enough that we may capsize any moment. Not
  icing her presence, Darren smiled and continued along the passageway with
  her. "Where are you headed Tareena?"
  "I noticed that a few of the Dragonsworn did not report in to receive
  their rotations for channeling above, I want to see why and make sure they
  are okay." She knew from talking to Stevan that Andraia was seasick and not
  available but she wasn't sure about Ariana and Myiona. It was strange that
  the 1st Dragonsworn was not with the others. she is usually the first one to
  volunteer and get everyone else moving. It was her cabin that Tareena was
  drawn to, worried about her friend.
  As they moved nearer the door, a loud scream rocketed through the
  passageway, causing the hairs on her arms to raise and goosebumps to form.
  throwing open the door of the cabin, Tareena gasped in shock.
  Myiona was kneeling in the middle of the floor. Her hair was in wild
  disarray, her skirts had been torn from her body and were lying in tattered
  ruin around her. Her face was deathly pale and her eyes stood out of her
  head like two wild beacons. She was scratching and clawing at her skin,
  rivulets of blood trailing down her limbs. Tareena could feel the power
  being wielded in the room, fueling Myiona's energy.
  "Myiona! What is the matter? What's wrong? What happened?" Tareena
  rushed into the room, trying to reach her friend to stop the destruction of
  her body. Just as she was about to touch her, Tareena felt herself thrown
  back against the wall, hmmmmpoh...her breath left her in one fell swoop.
  Surprise etched itself in her features. "Stay away from me! Don't touch me!
  I need to get out of here, I am leaving. I hurt, I hurt."
  Trying once more to reach her, Tareena was again tossed back. Tareena
  immediately reached for the source and began to weave the flows to block
  Myiona from the source of her power. She met with a resistance unknown to
  her. Tareena was very strong in the power, she was not used to being
  thwarted. She increased her strength, trying to force the woman to yield.
  It would not happen. Suddenly Tareena felt the same odd resonance to the
  power as she had felt above, but she could not distinguish what it was.
  Myiona continued to resist her, clawing and scratching at her skin. The
  situation was becoming desperate. Tareena looked at Darren and nodded. He
  immediately stepped forward. Tareena was never able to understand exactly
  what Darren's gift allowed him to do. She knew that his block would not
  allow him to wield the source but she knew he could take someone else's
  ability away from them by breaking their flows...or something....
  Tareena felt a slight shift and then everything happened at once.
  Suddenly there was no resistance and the shield slammed down. Myiona lay
  crumpled on the floor, apparently unconscious, possibly from the backlash of
  the flows. The cabin door rocked on it;s hinges as it was slammed open once
  more. Mur'ashar stood holding Ariana in his arms, a look of rage on his
  face. "What is going on here!, he roared, What did you do to her?"
  Unceremoniously dumping Ariana on her feet, Mur'ashar rushed to her,
  unwilling to comprehend that the bloody mass was her.
  Tareena explained the situation to him, stopping several times to calm
  him down and one time threatening to slap him if he didn't stop. Finally
  Ariana pushed her way through and began to examine Myiona. The trio waited
  expectantly, fearfully, for her to finish. When she turned around, Tareena
  knew that it was not good.
  "Do you remember the windfinder that we treated in the village? Myiona
  has some of the same feeling to her, but not quite as badly. It's as if she
  were being controlled from the inside. I cannot help her." Tareena saw
  tears well up in the healer's eyes. She knew how importantly she took her
  ability, and knew the frustration she was feeling. Tareena started to place
  her hand on the young woman's shoulder, to offer sympathy but at that exact
  moment, the shipped rolled, throwing everyone topsy turvy. Struggling to her
  feet, Tareena knew she had to get back on deck. That thrust had almost
  toppled the ship and that could not happen. Asking Ariana to stay with
  Myiona, Tareena turned to Darren and Mur'shar and explained her idea. They
  were going to have to link, male and female, to try and bring this storm to a
  close, or they were going to die out here in this sea of madness. Mur'shar
  protested that he wanted to stay with Myiona. Darren took him aside and
  explained that he would stay with her because he could not help above deck,
  but Mur'shar could and was needed. Finally, he agreed.
  Tareena and Mur'shar hurried, knocking on doors and calling names.
  Everyone who was able met above and began the process of linking to one
  another. The flows were directed towards the sky, hoping to bring calm, and
  the ship to safety.

 Ariana struggled to get free of the unbearably rude Asha'man who carried her
  like a babe in arms. He had burst into her cabin like a whirlwind and
  scooped her up so quickly she had dropped the book she had been reading.
  Then, before she more than croaked out a startled "Mura'shar?!?" he had
  strode precariously out the door and began to haul her through the corridors
  to another cabin. He kicked the door open mercilessly when he arrived, and
  then immediately dropped her. Instinctively she twisted like a cat, to land
  unsteadily on her feet. A shot of pain rushed up her right leg, but she
  ignored it.
  She brushed her skirts off, indignant at the embarrassment of having been
  carried like a child who couldn't walk- then promptly forgot her indignation
  when she saw the weeping, kneeling First Dragonsworn on the cabin floor. She
  shoved her way through to the obvious patient, knelt awkwardly on the heaving
  floor, and extended a probe into the woman who seemed unaware of her-or
  anyone's- presence. What she felt made her want to scream in rage- or
  collapse on the floor in frustration. Whatever this spreading problem was,
  it seemed made to thwart her. She calmed her expression before turning to
  the others, still on her knees. "I can do nothing." She knew some of her
  emotions must have come through in that; the woman gave her a sympathetic
  glance which Ariana tried to ignore. More calmly, she explained, "Do you
  remember the Windfinder that we tried to treat in the village? Myiona has
  some of that same feeling to her, but not quite as badly. It seems... like
  thething is controlling her from the inside. I cannot help her." She turned
  her face back to the First Dragonsworn to hide the bitter expression she knew
  was going to cover her face. She would not cry! She would not let
  this...whatever it was.... beat her! A second later, though, she was flung-
  literally- out of her determination, as the ship rolled and she flew through
  the air to collide with the cabin wall. She managed a wry grin. Terrific,
  another bruise. Now I'm matched; one on each shoulder. Besides, at least
  she hadn't been the only one tossed airborne this time. Nor, she suspected,
  was she the only one to sustain bruises, judging from the interesting and
  convoluted landing positions of the others.
  Once most of them had righted themselves, the woman with the slurred accent
  who had been conversing with the others asked her to stay with Myiona, then
  dashed as quickly as was possible on the ship's shifting floor, toward the
  upper deck.
  Ariana sighed, and looked at Myiona, still on the floor. First things first.
  Ariana braced herself in the doorway so she could avoid flying through the
  air again. The first thing to do required concentration. She channeled, and
  a thin mat of air began to push itself gently under the Dragonsworn, then
  thickened until Myiona seemed to be floating a few inches off the floor.
  Then she raised the mat, gently pulled it till it was over the bed, lowered
  it, and dispelled the weaves. Myiona was now resting quietly on the covers.
  Ariana released her death-grip on the doorway and carefully lurched her way
  to the bed. She could not fix the real problem, it seemed -she nearly
  snarled at that- but she could at least do something about the superficial
  wounds. A thought and a moment healed the red, angry scratches the First
  Dragonsworn's nails had inflicted on herself, and soothed the eyes puffy from
  crying. She would have offered the same to Tareena, but the woman had
  already gone- and the driving rain would wash the blood from her before she
  got three feet, once she was on deck. Meanwhile, the same would have to be
  done for Myiona. Patiently, Ariana channeled a pitcher of water off the
  table beside the bed, her hands busy holding her still. When it reached her,
  she spared a moment to admire the design of it; the sides sloped inward as it
  went up to prevent casual spillage, and the small top opening was corked
  tightly. The bottom had grooves that slid onto a base that was attached to
  the table.
  She floated a cloth out of the small bathroom and set to work gently wiping
  the blood from Myiona's now-whole skin. All the while she wondered what
  could have caused this to strike at the Dragonsworn; so far it had left the
  members of the Black Tower alone. A sudden thought occurred to her; did
  Myiona have Sea Folk blood? That might explain why it affected her, and why
  it wasn't as bad as the Windfinders had been. Hmmmm,...
  A knock at the much-abused door roused her from her thoughts. It was one of
  the novices. "Er, excuse me, Dragonsworn, but they sent me to ask if
  Dragonsworn Myiona would be coming to..." she trailed off, her eyes widening
  at the sight of the First Dragonsworn lying motionless in bed. "What-"
  Ariana cut her off with a gesture for quiet. "Hush, girl, she's sleeping.
  Seasickness can be exhausting, you know." There, perfectly true, and it
  didn't reveal the real reason the First Dragonsworn was unconscious and in
  bed. She knew the morale of the group didn't need such a blow, the First
  stricken by whatever had been affecting the Windfinders. Besides, Myiona
  probably wouldn't be exactly thrilled to know her illness was known all over
  the ship. Let them think it was seasickness. She shooed the girl off, then
  returned to watch her patient, who remained unmoivng except when the ship's
  motion disturbed her, and settled in to keep vigil until she awoke. She
  would just have to miss whatever was brewing up on the deck.

  Oh, the frustration!! :::laughs::: What's wrong with you, Myiona? Wake up!
  :::growls::: Oh well, at least Ari won't have to try and stand out on the
  deck... Poor healer... well, watching a sleeping DS is easier than shielding
  a ship!
  ~E

 Sarenda jumped at the sound of the sharp knock on her door, but before she
  could get up, her name was called. "You're needed on deck," came the voice,
  unidentifiable through the door and the rain on the ship's wall. What was
  this? She hurried to the door, helped by a sudden pitching motion of the
  ship. There was no one there, so she scurried up to the deck to see what was
  going on. When she got there, she was grabbed by the arm and shoved into a
  circle as someone hastily explained that they were going to link and shield
  the ship from the storm. Link? With all of us? Even the - the Asha'man?
  But she had no time to protest, to say that she'd only once linked with
  another -one other- person in her life, as a training excercise, before she
  felt the sensation of someone reaching toward her. She shut her lips over
  her protests and extended herself to the proffered "hands" that she could
  feel on either side of her. The feeling, suddenly, of great, immense power
  was incredible, enough so that she forgot to be nervous and gave over control
  of her talent. She could feel the shield being woven, and marvelled at how
  easy it seemed, with all the available power, to do what none of them could
  dream of doing alone. Suddenly the wind nearly stopped, and the rain seemed
  to lessen as the wind driving it slacked. The ship was encased in the
  protection of the incredible shield. She could see the Windfinder looking at
  the better weather, a look of awe and satisfaction on her tired face.
  Sarenda knew she must look much the same; in fact most of them seemed to be
  alternately amazedat their work and satisfied with the resultant lessening in
  nature's force. Sarenda found herself being congratulated, while she did the
  same to the others. Everyone was rejoicing at the relief frim the worst of
  the weather. Sarenda, content and quite tired, made her way back to the
  cabin where she had been trying to sleep. She thought she'd have a lot more
  success at it now, and she was really tired. But she wouldn't have missed it
  for anything.

  K, guys, i know nothing about linking, so there's my limited VP. Let's have
  fun.!

 Crystinah sat on her bed in her room, thinking.
  She didn't want to go back up to the deck. ~I hate
  the sea,~ she thought. ~I am NEVER getting on a boat
  again!~ she thought to herself.
  She stood up and walked slowly across the room.
  She put her hand on the doorknob then changed her
  mind. "I think I'll stay here for a little longer,"
  she murmured to herself. "Well, at least I'm not
  seasick. It could be a whole lot worse if I were."
  After a few more moments she made her way back to
  her bed and sat down. Before long she was fast
  asleep.

  But not long after she went to sleep, she was
  awoke by voices shouting loudly. Crystinah got up and
  walked out towards the deck.
  She rubbed her eyes. ~I think I need a little
  more sleep,~ she thought. Of course she knew there
  would be a huge storm, but she hadn't thought it would
  be this soon. It could have at least let her have a
  good rest first.
  Crystinah saw Alcinia standing alone and made her
  way towards the young woman. "Do you know what we are
  supposed to be doing?" Crystinah asked.

  Karen
  aka Crystinah

 
  Alan quickly wiped his mouth. Getting up from his kneeling position
  over the side of the ship, he uttered a quick moment of thanks to Talia.
  She had been there since he had become sea sick, rubbing his back, and
  making sure he did not fall overboard with the racking spasms that shook his
  body. Taking a deep breath he nodded and the too began to walk back down
  towards Alan's room. Being Tsovoron M'Hael he was entitled to his own room,
  and as the entered he collapsed on his bed. Smelling some of the food from
  the galley, Alan thought he was going to retch again but forced it back
  down.
  "I am sorry...Talia...I should be man enough to bear a couple of gusty
  winds. I apologize. I hope i do not look any worse in your eyes because of
  it." With that he laid his head back against his pillow. Talia looked at
  the young man for a moment and sat down beside him. Taking a wet rag she
  gently laid it upon his brow and smoothed his hair away from his eyes. It
  only took moments for the young ashaman to fall asleep.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  Sorry for the short RP, but i just finished an English paper and chem
  prelab, and it is pretty late so i will be off to bed. I will write some
  more later, i guess :) Also, i just got Aol Instant Messenger, my name is
  Rikishi62, so if any of you see me on drop a line and say " hullo" Check ya
  later
  Joe

 Myiona awoke from her short nap and decided to go find something to eat.
  The galley was unusually empty and she quickly grabbed some bread and cheese
  before heading toward the deck.
  She looked at the dark sky surrounding them, feeling the power of its
  fury in the air. "How could I have slept through something like that?" she
  wondered. "I am usually such a light sleeper."
  Myiona jumped when a hand touched her arm. "What are you doing up here?"
  Mura'shar asked. "You should stay in the cabin."
  "Why would I stay in the cabin when it appears that every channeler is
  needed up here?" she asked. "What is being done to get us through this
  storm? Do you think we could make a shield big enough to keep the ship from
  the worst of the weather?"

  Vicky
  aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
  Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 Alcinia had spent most of the trip down in a tiny
  cabin she shared with some of the other women. Since
  the incident with her imitating the Sea Folk style of
  dressing, she had tried to stay out of the way of the
  Atha'an Miere and the Black Tower leaders.
  She spent most of her time sharpening her knives
  or practicing throwing them. The door was her chosen
  target. As she was preparing to throw another knife,
  the door opened and one of the other women poked her
  head in.
  "Everyone is supposed to take turns giving aid to
  the Windfinder," she said. "It is your turn now."
  The door shut behind the retreating woman.
  "Great," Alcinia said sticking the knives back in
  their hiding places, "another chance to go out and
  make a fool of myself."
  Crystinah walked over to Alcinia and asked, "Do
  you know what we are supposed to be doing?"
  "All I know is we are supposed to help the
  windfinder," Alcinia answered with a smile. "I guess
  we should get it over with."

  Alcinia

 
  "All I know is we are supposed to help the
  windfinder," Alcinia answered with a smile. "I guess
  we should get it over with."
  Crystinah grinned. "I guess so. Nobody's told
  me anything yet." She laughed, "So I suppose it would
  be my turn next."
  She followed Alcinia towards the Windfinder.
  "Anyway, have you seen Myiona lately? I haven't. I
  wonder how she's doing. I haven't seen her since
  before we left the other island. I guess I will go
  see her later."
  Soon they were almost beside the windfinder.
  Crystinah looked at the woman's face. ~Shards, they
  really need to learn to dress!~ she thought.
  The windfinder said, "Yes?"
  "We're here to help," Crystinah said.
  "Oh, yes," the Atha'an Miere said.
  "Well then," Crystinah said. "What do we do?"

  Karen
  aka Crystinah

 Mura'shar had a hard time locating Ariana. She was nowhere below decks,
  and there was no answer when he knocked on the door to her cabin. A few
  inquiries revealed that she may be with the Windfinder on the deck.
  Apparently, several Dragonsworn had been aiding the Windfinder in managing
  the storm. Hoping he wasn't interrupting a critical weave, he climbed onto
  the deck and looked around.
  Mura'shar gaped at the sky for a moment. The storm was in full fury.
  Rain lashed against Mura'shar's face, making it difficult to see. The wind
  seemed to threaten to carry him away. Managing the storm? More like
  keeping the ship afloat! It was a wonder hey hadn't been capsized already.
  He began peering at faces, knowing that anyone here will be far too busy to
  look at Myiona right now, but maybe later, when the current crisis had passed.
  Another Dragonsworn joined him, staring at the sky in wonder just as he
  did. Mura'shar did a double-take. It was Myiona. She must have awakened
  already. Not knowing what to expect, he touched her arm.
  "What are you doing up here? You should stay in the cabin"
  Why would I stay in the cabin when it appears that every channeller is
  needed up here?' she asked "What is being done to get us through this storm?
  Do you think we could make a shield big enough to keep the ship from the
  worst of the weather?"
  Mura'shar shrugged "I just got here as well, but it's worth a try. It
  would take a lot of strength, though. It's a big ship and an enormous storm"
  Myiona sought out the Sailmistress and began laying out her plans for
  protecting the ship. Mura'shar began gathering Black Tower members to
  prepare for the link
  He found two more Dragonsworn, Christinah and Alcinia, talking to the
  Windfinder. Alcinia blushed for a moment when she saw him. He didn't recall
  seeing her much since that "incident", but that wasn't important now.
  "You two!" he called out over the howling wind. "Come here and prepare
  to link!" They obeyed as Myiona went to the bow to talk with the
  Sailmistress and the Windfinder about her idea. He scanned the deck for any
  other Black Tower members. Myiona will want as big a circle as possible.
  "Where's Tareena?" he asked. She probably knew more about ships and
  weather than anyone else in the Black Tower. She'd be invaluable in a
  project like this.
  One of the Novitiates who had recently joined them on deck, Sarenda, he
  believed, spoke up "She was helping the Windfinder before, but was too tired
  to go on. Darren's been setting up shifts for us so she could get some rest."
  He looked around. There would be six, including the Windfinder. Maybe
  it would be enough, but he doubted it. He hoped Tareena could join them in
  time, but if she couldn't, there was no helping it. "Go below and find six
  others to join us. More if you can. We'll need a lot of the One Power for
  what we're going to try. We'll be building a shield across the entire ship
  to protect us from the storm. Now hurry up."
  As the three scrambled down the ladder, Myiona rejoined him, looking
  pleased with herself. "The Windfinder and Sailmistress agree. We can make
  the shield, but we'll need more channelers.
  "Mura'shar smiled and put an arm around her shoulder. Is she back to
  normal. Dare I hope? "I thought so, so I took the liberty of sending for
  some more of them."
  Alcinia and the others returned shortly, practically dragging a member of
  the Black Tower by either hand. Mura'shar couldn't identify them from this
  distance, though. The driving rain reduced visibility considerably. Myiona
  and the Windfinder began shouting orders, preparing for the link. Mura'shar
  took his place at his bondmate's side, ready to help her whatever happened.
  ________________________

  OOC If you want to be in the link, just be one of the unidentified members.
  That's what they're there for:)

  Jake
  Marked Asha'man

 Tareena flopped onto her bed, clothes and all, asleep before she hit the
  pillow. Weird dreams plagued her rest, causing her to toss and turn along
  with the ship. She dreamed of something terrible to do with the power but
  she could not put a name to the problem. She dreamed of Darren, lost and
  frightened she screamed his name for him to help but he could not find her.
  She dreamed of Mur'ashar, standing alone and refusing to speak with her, not
  trusting her with his secrets. She dreamed of Myiona, an eerie dream filled
  with the Dragonsworn screaming in pain, surrounded in blood. She could not
  escape the dreams and she could not awaken from them.
  Someone screamed her name, she felt herself being pushed over a cliff,
  falling into blackness. With a start she awoke, rising straight up into a
  sitting position. Blinking exhaustion away unsuccessfully, she finally
  comprehended that she was in her room and staring at one of the noviates.
  "Please come above deck. We need your help. They are forming a shield and
  need everyone's assistance."
  Tareena forced herself to get up, to put one foot in front of the other.
  She made her way above, cursing silently as the gale hit her face.
  Shivering, she joined the circle. It had begun.

 
  "Go find below and find six others to join us. More if you can." Sarenda
  darted toward the entrance to the lower decks, nimbly avoiding ropes and
  other interesting nautical oblects- some of which were flying toward her head
  as the ship tilted crazily. Once below, she abandoned her dignity (what
  little there was of it, soaking wet as she was) and went door to door,
  knocking. She kept her message short, so there would be more time to collect
  people. She had already covered four cabins. The next one almost went by
  her, as the ship tossed her down the hall. She caught the doorknob and kept
  herself upright, then pounded it with her fist. Amazingly, the door opened
  almost at once. This was the Healer's cabin, she saw. The small woman was
  sitting on the bed, looking at her with a faintly irritated expression.
  "Yes?"
  "You're needed on deck! They're going to shield the ship, and they need
  help! Hurry!" The healer nodded, and Sarenda didn't wait for further
  aknowledgement. She fled down the hall, rousing more people. This was a
  large ship, and the more they had to help with the shielding the better it
  would work- and the stronger it would be. When she had finally roused all
  she could find, she followed the last one up to where the group had
  congregated on the deck. The Windfinder was yelling directions over the
  storm, to link with the others. A shiver of fright ran down Sarenda's spine;
  she had linked with another- one other- person in her life, as a training
  excercise. Certainly she had never linked with a man before! But she had no
  time to protest. It was time to defend the ship!

 
  Ariana awakened to a pounding on her door. These people seem to like waking
  folk that way, she thought, recalling how she had been informed of this trip.
  She got slowly to her feet, and rather than try to walk, simply channeled
  the door open. The novitiate there seemed startled for a moment, but quickly
  blurted out, "You're needed on deck! They're going to shield the ship.
  Hurry!" before she dashed off to, presumably, repeat the message to the
  others. Ariana sighed deeply; how in the Light did they think she could
  "hurry" when the ship was thrashing like this? Very carefully, avoiding all
  sharp corners, I suppose. She stood, stumbled, almost fell, recovered, and
  made her lurching way to the deck.
  When she reached it, she was nearly shoved over the railing by a huge gust of
  wind; she clung to the frail-seeming wooden rail and waited till the wind
  shifted. Slowly she made her way to where a group was gradually forming, and
  joined them just in time to hear the instructions someone was shouting over
  the wind. Squinting, she made out the Windfinder, her hair whipping around
  like mad snakes, bellowing directions at the top of her lungs. "When
  everyone is here,we're going to link to shield the Whitespray from this
  weather," she shouted. "We can't keep the ship going unless we do something
  about the wind and the rain that's causing all this." Most of the group
  nodded, knowing that a verbal affirmation would be lost in the shriek of the
  storm. "Now all we need are the few who aren't here yet." They waited, the
  storm howling fiercely around them.

  Yay! let's shield this ship! then maybe we won't have to put up with all
  these sick people! ::laughs::: hope i don't run out of WoT-version of
  Dramamine!
  ~e

 As the strongest of the circle, Xyranthes took the lead, and began to work
  with those who had gathered on deck. As more came up from their respective
  bunks, they too where absorbed into the great link. For a moment, the
  Windfinder gave a stern look at the old man who had dared to seize control on
  her ship, but then sheepishly remembered the old laws, bound into the way the
  one power worked.
  The feeling of Sadin coursed through his veins, life and death mingling,
  flowing, seeping into every pore, and bursting outward in a torrent. The
  small Angreal hidden deep inside his left pocket throbbed with the energy as
  it coursed through his body. The feeling of absolute bliss and terror made it
  so easy to just relax, to let it all just flow, to surrender.
  "No." even in the peace of the void, the knowledge of what would happen
  should that be done sent shudders of fear running down Xyranthe's neck. To
  weave Saidin required a stern iron will. With deliberate care, the old
  Cairheinian reached out, and began to direct the flows. First air, mingled
  with water, to block out the massive storms. Earth and fire worked with
  dissolving the dangerous flashes of lightning. And finally spirit, to bind
  the weaves together and...
  "Something is not right here," his words where whipped away by the wind,
  still blowing through the not yet finished weave. Even as Xyranthes spoke, a
  disturbance coursed through the weave, into the flows and pervaded the link.
  The feeling was odd, as if an element of chaos itself had become tangible...

  (OOC: Part two to be finished up in about two hours. Right now, while we are
  in the process of working up the weave, something will go wrong. In the end,
  the storms are an element of the chaos created by madmen channeling. By
  creating a weave of this magnitude, we will inadvertently create a sort of
  portal, which should drop up on the Land of the Madmen, so we'll be out of
  the storm, but not out of danger, not yet. Enjoy guys, I'll be back on in two
  hours to Finnish up the story.

  Peter
  <><

 The boat rocked again and Janara fell back into Locke's arms.
  "I'm probably needed on deck," he said trying to get up. Janara giggled
  and held onto him. A small voice, the reasonable side of her, told her she
  better let go, that he was probably right and what in the name of the light
  was she doing down in this man's room, doing what she did, in the first
  place!? Janara forced the thoughts down. She deserved a little fun,
  didn't she? The rocking of the boat made it all the more exciting.
  "You will have to let go of me, my dear, you don't know what the
  Sailmistresses punishments can be like..."
  "Oh, ok!" Janara let go. She ought to take a lesson from Locke, she
  thought, I'm probably needed, at least somewhere. Janara shook her head.
  She was always needed by someone to do something...no time for me...

  Someone burst into the room. Janara's face went red but the person was in
  such a hurry she didn't seem to notice. "They're forming a link to get us
  through the storm!" she said and rushed out. Janara put on the rest of her
  clothes, including her warm, water resistant jacket. "Looks like I'm
  needed too," she told Locke and followed him out and up to the deck.

  Janara Dragon Sworn
  -val

 
  Crystinah had been talking with Alcinia, sometimes
  the windfinder made a comment but not a lot, when
  Mura'shar yelled their names.
  They had to go and wake up some of the other
  members of the BT who were resting.
  Crystinah grinned and thought, ~I'm sure glad I
  wasn't still in bed.~ She walked to the room and
  knocked on some of the doors and yelled, "HURRY AND
  GET UP."
  She giggled, it was a whole lot more fun waking
  others up than being woke up yourself.
  Crystinah walked back up to the deck, some of the
  others behind her.
  She headed towards the group of people standing.
  She heard someone say, "We're going to link and try to
  protect the ship."
  Crystinah frowned, but soon it was time for the
  link. She turned her head and saw Kano standing
  beside her and on her other side was Alcinia.
  ~Great,~ she thought, ~nothing like linking with
  many men who are going to go insane. What if the lead
  does it when he has all that power in his hands?~
  Then a few minutes later, he, Xyranthes, muttered,
  "Something is not right here."
  Crystinah frowned and closed her eyes. ~What is
  going on?~ she thought, as she felt the strangeness
  through the link. ~What is it?~ she wondered.
  She turned her head and looked questioningly at
  Alcinia.

  Karen
  aka Crystinah

 As the young novice left the cabin, the motion of the ship causing its door to
  bang against the wall, La'rece reached into her satchel and grabbed the bracelet
  she kept there. It was an old ivory angreal that had 'belonged' to her
  grandmother. The bracelet would add only a small amount of power, but anything
  at all might aid the Link.

  As she joined the circle, she smiled at Janara and embraced Saidar. Xyanthres'
  raised eyebrow as she channeled made her smile. Her joy, however, was brief.
  There was a wild rumble, a resonance in the Power; something wasn't right ...

  Lauren
  La'rece Barata'gan, bondmate of Ivan and Janara
  Dragonsworn, Marked, Blademaster

 

  Talia was amused. Isn't it the man who is supposed to be the strongest?
  The one you can depend on to be the fortress of strength and dependability?
  She mused this as she held onto Alan as he was hanging over the railing of
  the ship and spilling his lunch over the side. Walking with him back to his
  cabin, she shushed his apologies while wringing out a cloth to dab his
  forehead with. She sat with him until he seemed a little more at ease until
  suddenly someone burst into the cabin.

  "Dragonsworn.." said the Novitiate, "all the Dragonsworn are needed on
  deck... and I think anyone who can channel would be appreciated." Then the
  Novitiate went running to another cabin to give the news to someone else.

  Talia raised a brow. She knew the ship was tossing a bit too much for her
  taste, but she figured that was almost normal for a sea vessel like this
  one. Rising, she looked to see if Alan was going to come. "Before you
  come, you might want to try some of those herbs I heard someone had. I
  believe it was Alcinia or Ariana; I don't recall." The fact that she knew
  of some herbs and let him suffer as long as he did probably would dawn on
  him sometime soon. Leaving him with that to ponder, Talia raced on deck to
  the gathering circle of female channelers.

  "Okay, what are we doing here?" Someone quickly explained to her that
  they were linking, just as the Windfinder began shouting above the storm
  instructions to everyone.

  "Looks like it's going to be a fun day. I knew I was right about that
  high sea adventure." An almost mischevious grin spread across Talia's face
  as she became one of the many within the link. Before too long, there was
  an oddness.. strangeness.. about the Power that made Talia blink with
  curiosity.

  "Is anyone else getting a very odd feeling about this?"
  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  ~Talia Daimar
  ~Dragonsworn
  played by
  ~TTT aka Miya
  <><

 To those with the gift, the glow that was the threads of the One Power began
  to swirl and course with the strange chaotic effect of the storm. As the
  eddies shifted the pattern of the weave, Xyranthes tried to reassert some
  semblance of control over it all. As the two forces went at one another, the
  storm and the weave began to change. A wind picked up, swirling the clouds
  into tight spirals of gray and white. The crashing waves sent up great gouts
  of spray, which mingled with the flashing lightning. And in the midst of all
  of this, the small ship, with it's tiny contingent of channelers.
  At the height of the discord, a strong concussion of air, as it had thundered
  without sound, shook the tiny ship. Above, the sky began to flow, swirling
  into a great gray mass, a vortex of unimaginable size. Mirroring the great
  spiral in the sky, the waves began to churn, swelling about the ship, forming
  a vortex of their own. The ship began to twist, turning in a clockwise
  motion, slowly at first, but faster and faster as time wore on.
  As the turning of the ship grew swifter, out in the mists and spray, great
  gray shapes could be seen, the hulks of long lost vessels, torn from their
  watery graves, and set to orbit about the Wind dancer. Suddenly, a gap above
  in the thick cloud cover forms, and a shaft of sunlight thrusts down,
  illuminating the members of the Black tower. Still spinning, the ship rises,
  as if to touch the sky, pushed upward from below by a pillar of turbulent
  water. As the ship rises, a shaft of clouds fall, forming a cylinder about
  the ship and it's pedestal of foam and sea. A great shudder booms throughout
  the mighty seafolk vessel, shaking it's passengers. Drawing upon ever bit of
  power from the circle, Xyranthes desperately grabs one last thread of spirit,
  weaving it with the threads already flailing wildly out of control. Again the
  feeling of thunder without sound.

  And suddenly, all is calm.

  Then the ship begins to fall, striking the water a few moments later. The
  feeling of freefall shakes most of the Asha'man and the Dragon sworn, as does
  the sudden stop at the end. The small island is no where to be seen, in it's
  place are massive looming cliffs, topped with a deep red glow and smoke.
  Jagged rocks pierce the calm sea, like teeth of some monstrous beast from
  before time. Of the storm, nothing can be seen.
  Sagging against a nearby overturned barrel, Xyranthes enters blissful
  unconsciousness.

  (OOC: I hope this is right, I wrote it in 4 parts, and it took a lot longer
  to do than I anticipated. We are now at the cliffs near the Land of the
  Madmen, we now need a way past the cliffs. Only minor damage has been done to
  the ship, but there are a number of leaks. Aside from that, the choice is
  yours, enjoy my friends.)

  Peter
  <><

 
  After talking with the Sailmistress, Myiona returned to find that
  Mura'shar had sent others to gather up members of the Black Tower for the
  link. Soon, the deck was filled with channelers. Taking a deep breath, she
  embraced the source and smiled at Mura'shar. She reached out and took his
  hand, holding it tightly in her own.
  As Xyranthes directed and wove the flows to construct the shield. All
  seemed to be going well at first, but something changed abruptly and the
  power seemed to be ripped from his control. The ship rose into the air
  spinning around.
  Myiona wanted to scream, but the wind seemed to snatch the very breath
  from her mouth. The ship shuddered and then everything was calm. The ship
  fell quickly, hitting the water hard, but staying upright.
  Myiona found herself flung against her bondmate to whom she clung as if
  for life itself. As she released the power, her head began to pound and her
  knees buckled beneath her. As she fell, Myiona thought that time itself had
  stopped and she was moving slower than normal.
  She found herself lying upon her back on the deck of the ship, looking up
  at Mura'shar. She could hear the crash of waves upon the sides of the cliff
  and could feel the hard wood beneath her back. Suddenly, everything went
  black.

  Vicky
  aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
  Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 
  Thunderous booms, but without sound, shook the inky blackness of
  unconsciousness that enveloped Andraia. Slowly the entwining arms of sleep
  released her and her eyes opened on darkness. The light of the candles was
  gone, plunging her into darkness, unnoticed as she slept. She could feel the
  force of the storm outside, feel the channeling of her compatriots, but her
  exhaustion-fogged mind refused to allow any penetration of knowledge, or fear,
  to reside within. Her sickness was gone, even in the midst of the horrible
  storm, and in it's place was the wall of ice that she had always used to block
  her emotions, a wall of ice that was surrounded by the fog of incomprehension.
  She sat up slowly, just as she felt the ship begin to spin and rise into the
  air. She brought her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them,
  humming a gentle melody her mother had used to sing her to sleep as a child...
  not sung to relieve her fear, but to aid her concentration as she maint!
  ained the wall of ice, the fog that surrounded her with calm.
  Then suddenly, the ship was no longer suspended in the air and was falling,
  but she ignored it, her eyes closed as she hummed, words occasionally passing
  her lips in the ancient tune, but making no sense, since they weren't connected
  to the words before or after. The ship landed back on the sea with a jolt,
  throwing her forward, but she simply sat up again and continued her humming...

  Andraia Korinth
  OOC: Sorry so short, but I'm actually banned for a week again... :)

 
  Ariana found herself caught up in the weave quickly, and set herself to give
  all she could. Anything, anthing, if it would stop this horrible weather!
  She felt the Power being shaped and molded by the Cairhienin man who had
  taken charge of the huge circle gathering on the deck, though she realized
  she was only feeling the collective force of saidar, not the men's half of
  this undertaking. Still, even half of it was impressive enough. She gave
  herself over to the working, all the outside factors reducing to a background
  blur that she easily ignored.
  But something wasn't quite right. She could feel an... oddness, a difference
  in the Power even focused as she was on the actual weaving. As the Power
  gathered and was set in forms, she felt the oddness increasing... Her spine
  tingled, and she squinted harder against the driving rain, trying to make out
  whether others might be feeling the strange sense of other. It was no use;
  the rain was making vision impossible, and they had already blocked most of
  the lightning. Oh, well, nothing for it but to keep trying! She did so, the
  queasy feeling growing all the while.
  Finally, the growing oddness snapped into the weave, and she saw it mutate
  before her amazed eyes. The sky became a vortex of whirling, spinning gray
  streaks that were clouds, and a...tunnel of sorts formed around the ship.
  Out around the walls of the tunnel, she could see shattered hulls and broken
  masts, many rotted almost beyond recognition. Her heart pounded faster, as
  she fully expected their ship to join its ruined brothers.
  Something intervened- a massive pillar of water shoved the ship upward,
  toward the strange hole in the clouds. Ariana clung for her life to a
  whipping rope, squinted her eyes, and waited to hear the ship snap as it came
  back down... She felt for a moment as though she was suspended in the air,
  weightless. Then came the horrifying feeling of plummeting back toward the
  ocean. As the ship hit the water, the weave collapsed, snapping out random
  threads. A burst of power came rushing down the thread she held to
  tenaciously, afraid to let the weave completely free. There was a roaring in
  her ears as all her power, and more, backlashed through the link. She was
  slammed to the deck by the sheer force of it, and the Power rolled over her.
  She barely had time to realize she was being hit by, not only saidar, but the
  tainted saidin as well before the world dissolved in blackness.

  Ouch! can we say, major headache time? ~E

 
  As his vision focused, he could clearly see the looming cliffs ahead, with
  tops smoking and glowing with fiery breath. He had obviously been unconscious
  for a few hours, for the sun was now low in the sky, but he now felt almost
  refreshed. He struggled to his feet, and staggered across the deck to find
  the Sailmistress.

  He found her sitting by the prow, gazing at the cliffs. Her proud gaze never
  wavered, but her body told him that she was still weak. He touched her
  lightly on her shoulder, "Sailmistress..."

  She turned sharply and gazed at him menacingly. "We do not have long. The sun
  will set shortly and we must navigate through these rocks." She raised her
  hand and motioned to the jagged rocks seated in this perilous sea. "The boat
  has a few leaks and we must find a place to dock."

  "Then we must find enough people to manage this ship," Stevan answered, as
  the two of them began looking for those who had regained consciousness.
 
 

  Twenty minutes later the sun was even lower in the sky, but the wind had
  picked up, making it easier for the boat to move. Asha'man had dealt with the
  leaks - they patched them up and were bailing out the water. The Sea Folk
  quickly rose the sails, while the Dragonsworn that could hurried round
  Healing.

  The Sailmistress was at the helm as the boat began moving, and everyone who
  wasn't busy was intent on watching the water ahead lest the boat should hit a
  rock. It wove slowly in and out of those jagged peaks and it crawled
  cautiously around the coast.

  About half a mile from where their boat had so strangely... 'landed' ...the
  cliffs bent inwards to form a small cove. The cliffs never joined, but left a
  beach steeply rising to the height of the cliffs. The Sailmistress gave the
  signal, and the boat nervously turned inwards.

  Soon the boat was guided into the cove, and it rested peacefully in the
  waters. They cast the anchor, and Stevan spoke to all those upon the ship,
  now all gathered upon the deck. "From what I've heard, the inhabitants of
  this land are fierce and will attack upon sight. The channellers are also
  mad, both male and female, and we must be careful about channelling from now
  on, for we might attract unwanted attention. Therefore, we must travel
  quickly and silently. Therefore, we must travel through the night and get
  beyond the villages before the sun rises."

  There was groans as Stevan announced his intentions, but he continued. "We
  will rest for three hours, and then we will begin our trek through this
  dangerous country...we must help our Sea Folk friends!"
 
 

  As the rowing boat hit the shore Stevan gazed down at the ground. It
  was...glass? And it was all one solid mass...this was puzzling. He shook his
  head and looked up to see Xyranthes smiling at him. "Stevan, this beach has
  obviously been heated greatly so that the sand has melted to form glass.
  Probably been heated from all these volcanoes..." He looked up anxiously
  towards the glowing tops of the cliffs.

  The two Asha'man climbed out of the boat along with Andraia, Traighan and
  Alcinia, and gazed into an unknown land...
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  ---------------------------------------------
 

  Right...what next you ask? Well...we begin our journey into the Land of
  Madmen. This is a brief outline of what is to happen:

  1) We find some villagers and they manage to roughly tell us what direction
  we should be travelling in to go and find an ancient city with strange
  artifacts.

  2) We travel in that direction...and there we grab a map giving us specific
  details of where to go...we follow it.

  3) We get to the volcano...

  Remember, the villagers are all hostile. If we are seen, we are attacked.
  There might also be loads of weird exotic creatures...use your imagination!
  One final thing...we're all staying in one group!

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

 Sarenda felt the growing wrongness in the shield, and wondered if something
  was wrong. She almost dismissed it as just first time nerves- but no, it was
  real. Nerves didn't feel like chaos in physical presence, and beside her her
  neighbors were looking worried, too. No matter how queasy her stomach got,
  though, she was definitely not prepared for a gaping hole to open in the
  whirling sky, or for the ship she was standing on to start rising through it.
  Instinctively, she reached out and grabbed for a rail, and saw those next to
  her do the same. She held tight while the ship rose into the air, hung
  suspended for a single moment that felt like an eternity, and then fell
  rapidly toward the water below, in a completely different location than they
  had been in. For one thing, the storm had vanished; for antoher, the water
  was now a peaceful green- except for where it frothed white around huge
  jutting rocks. Rocks? Oh, no! But the waves were small, and didn't push
  them toward the stone hazards. Sarenda sighed deeply in relief. Then she
  turned her mind to more practical matters, and decided to go find out what
  was being done- if anything, since most people seemed to be in some variation
  of "fallen" and were most definitely not conscious enough to do anything at
  all. Maybe some had done better down below deck. Gathering her soaked
  skirts about her, she went to see.

 Ariana opened her eyes, reluctantly, and saw...gray. She was vaguely,
  unenergetically puzzled for a few moments, until she realized she was staring
  at a very dirty piece of sailcloth that had somehow ended up hung on a spar
  above her. Which led to the question, where was she? She moved her head-
  and wished fervently she hadn't. It felt like a whole phalanx of Whitecloaks
  were galloping through it. Screaming. At the top of their collective lungs.
  Still, the tiny motion gave a better view, so she tried again. The
  Whitecloaks were joined by lightning bolts of pain. She closed her eyes and
  almost tried to sleep, but medical training kicked in. She most likely had a
  concussion- she could feel the hard wooden deck below her head, and
  remembered how hard she had been thrown against it. A terrifying thought
  occurred to her; she had gone unconscious while trying to hold a channeling
  link. Fear surged through her, and she sat bolt upright before the pain
  could come, and tried to seize saidar. Relief coursed through her, more
  powerful than any herb; she hadn't been burned out. With the wild
  fluctuations in the Power and the huge link, it was a real threat. She hoped
  no one else had suffered such an awful fate, either.
  Well, I'm sitting. That's one benefit of great fear, at least; adrenaline
  works miracles. Now to try the next step. Telling herself firmly that she
  could not go to sleep before she got up, she grabbed the spar draped in cloth
  and pulled herself to her feet. She clung to the piece of wood for a moment,
  for once not ashamed at using a crutch. If my leg hurt as bad as my head
  does, I'd use a crutch then, too! Still, for once her crippled limb wasn't
  bothering her more than her head- only because of how hard she'd hit her
  head, though. Her leg had never hurt this badly before, either- well, maybe
  once- but her head was much worse. She embraced saidar again, in an attempt
  to ignore the pain as she hobbled to her cabin. She hoped her cabin was
  still there. Actually, it looks like the ship only took minor damage.
  Amazing. I think I got all the damage for both of us. Her cabin was there,
  and by some intervention of the Light, the glass bottles in her pack had not
  broken. She snatched them up and went slowly toward the deck.
  Someone had set the relatively uninjured to finding the still-unconscious,
  she saw with approval. Ariana started administering headache pills. She
  saved channeling for the unconscious, since she couldn't talk to them and
  make sure of their condition, and right now channeling hurt. Briefly she
  swallowed one of her own headache pills when she knew she would have enough.
  Then, since she had gotten to everyone, she found a wall and slid down it.
  Resting seemed like a very attractive idea right now.
  When she felt like standing would be possible, she got up and went to look
  for whoever was handling this. She discovered that she had missed the
  impromptu meeting, but learned that they felt it imperative to go ashore and
  get away from the villages before the rapidly-approaching night was over.
  She sighed, and went to find were they were loading the smaller boats that
  would take them to shore.
  The shore was the strangest thing she had seen recently- except for the thing
  that had brought them here. It seemed to be a single fused sheet of glass
  that ran all the way around the cove they had arrived at. Odd. But I have
  the strong feeling it won't be the strangest thing we encounter here. They
  did not go far from the shore, but started a fire while they waited for the
  others to arrive. Driftwood was easy to find on the flat surface; it stood
  out against the lighter color of the sand-glass. Ariana sat down and stared
  into the flames as the ohters gradually were unloaded from the ship, and
  waited for someone to decide on a course of action. Personally, she was
  exhausted, from the experience of falling through a hole in the sky,
  flattened on a deck by a Power-backlash, recieving a concussion, then Healing
  those who were unconscious or hurt in the freakish event. She rested her
  head in her hands, hurting vaguely despite the pill, and hoping that they
  would get lucky and not have to walk too far. Mountains were not exactly
  easy terain for her, either, and the ever- helpful Tai'dari had been left
  with the other horses on Tremalking. Still, she was thankful for their
  survival, and that no one had been seriously hurt by the impact with the
  water. She herself had probably sustained the worst injuries, having hit her
  head on the deck so hard when the Power doubled back on itself, and of course
  she couldn't Heal herself. Hopefully they wouldn't have to go too far to
  find what they were looking for, either. I hope not. It's about time we
  have some good luck! Though we may have used up all of it just living
  through that storm and shielding disaster. Oh, well, whatever came, she was
  just glad no one had been killed, or worse, burnt out. She closed her eyes
  and drifted off, hoping somene would wake her when and if something important
  happened.

 
  Crystinah turned, amazed at how fast they have been
  moved to the island. Just a moment ago they had been
  in the middle of a raging storm, and now they were
  here, on this island.
  She walked away and stopped when she saw Myiona
  lying on the ground. "OH!" she said and ran towards
  her friend.
  Crystinah embraced the source and searched for
  injuries and healed her friend. "Hmm," she muttered,
  "it must be exhaustion."
  She looked around and saw Mura'shar. "Hey," she
  yelled at him, "could you take Myiona somewhere where
  she can rest for a while? I've got to check on some
  of the others."
  Crystinah walked over to Ariana, who seemed to have
  lost consciousness also. She healed her minor wounds
  and looked around. She healed the few scratches and
  said to one of the Asha'men, "would you please take
  Ariana to her room to rest?"
  Crystinah found her way to Alcinia and said, "Are
  you okay? Do you need to be healed?"

  Karen
  aka Crystinah the very sleepy
 
  As the ship spun through the sky, Alcinia felt like she was going
  to sick up. Somehow she managed to avoid embarrassing herself in front
  of the rest of the group.
  The ship landed hard, causing almost everyone to fall. Alcinia
  was still standing when things became still. She found herself staring
  at the island they had suddenly appeared before. She realized that she
  could pick out hand and footholds on the cliff face, and knew that she
  was still holding Saidar.
  Quickly, she released the sweetness of it and looked around to see
  if anyone noticed. A few minutes later Crystinah came over and asked,
  "Are you okay? Do you need to be healed?"
  "I managed to stay on me feet this time," Alcinia said with a
  smile. "Others seem to have hit the deck hard. I guess there will be
  plenty of work to do now. The ship appears to have suffered some
  damage."
  She thought about going below deck and searching through the hold
  to see if there was anything worth stealing. Then she remembered how
  seriously the Atha'an Miere treated those that stole from them. "I
  guess I should go find out what I can do to help," she said as she
  walked toward Stevan.

  Alcinia

 Whumpf! The concussive force of the air pressure change caused La'rece to reel
  breaking free of the Link. Tumbling, she found herself flying over a barrel
  that had come unlashed. Landing ackwardly on her back, the Green grimaced in
  pain but was able to rise to her feet. Standing a bit unsteadily, La'rece cast
  her gaze about the littered deck. Seeing a novice lying unconscious and one of
  the Sea Folk bleeding quickened the Dragonsworn to action. Moving as quickly as
  her aches and pains would allow, La'rece moved to where the girl lay.

  Reaching for Saidar to heal the girl, La'rece cried out, reeling from the
  immense headache that flared inside her. Carefully, the Dragonsworn tried to
  channel again. Once more La'rece was seized by a gripping pain. She could sense
  the One Power; could even touch Saidar. *At least I'm not burned out, there's
  that. Light!* But any attempt at channeling caused her head to feel like it
  was being split open. *Well, that's just great, La'rece. What in the world
  ..* Looking up, she saw Xanthyres examining a small object. By chance or
  instinct he looked up for a moment, their eyes meeting briefly. La'rece held up
  her wrist and gently shook it drawing his attention to the bracelet she wore.
  An ancient angreal that had belonged to her grandmother. It wasn't an overly
  powerful angreal; merely a device to amplify the channeling of Spirit, Water,
  and Air. *Flaming lucky for you, woman!* But it was enough to have caused a
  backlash against her while she used it during the Link.!
  The Asha'man seemed no worse for wear for which La'rece was grateful. It
  hadn't occurred to her that someone else might have thought to bring an angreal
  into the weave. The two Marked members of the Black Tower shared a rueful grin
  across the ravaged deck.

  A hand on her shoulder caused La'rece to turn around. Janara looked at her with
  concern in her eyes. The shared bond would have told her about the pain from
  trying to channel. Hopefully, they'd be able to keep it between them, for a
  while at least. "Janara, can you see to the girl? I'll see what I can do for
  the Athan Mier.."

  La'rece stopped as a scream pierced the air. A large bird wheeled overhead and
  streaked away from the ship. Turning her gaze to follow its path, La'rece
  caught her first glimpse of the jagged landscape that lay ahead of them. *Well,
  that doesn't look very inviting. This must be Stevan's Island of Madmen. Can
  we pick 'em, or can we pick 'em?*

  With a sigh, La'rece turned her attention to the sailor sitting nearby ... it
  was only a minor cut. *Thank the Light!* Without being able to channel, the
  Green was reduced to field dressings, which fortunately, would suffice here ...

  Lauren
  La'rece Barata'gan, bondmate to Ivan and Janara
  Dragonsworn, Marked, Blademaster

 Myiona opened her eyes and groaned. She closed her eyes again quickly
  shutting out the light and the blurry objects in the cabin. "Myiona," a
  voice said as a hand touched her gently, "are you awake? Stevan is ready to
  take the group to shore. We should get our things together and get on the
  boat."
  Myiona sat up and opened her eyes. The room seemed to be spinning like
  the boat had done earlier. She took a deep breath and used the exercises
  Novices were given to relax enough to embrace the source. "I feel like I was
  hit in the head by a rock the size of Dragonmount," she said.
  "Are you going to be okay," he asked concern in his face, "or do you
  think you need to stay here?"
  "Miss out on all of the fun?" she asked trying to smile. "I don't think
  so. I will be okay in a few minutes. Besides, I would not let you go out
  there without me to watch your back."
  Myiona slowly stood up and began stuffing things in her bag. "I hope
  someone thinks about bringing food and water," she said. "We have no idea
  what we will be able to scrounge up on shore."
  Later, they were standing upon the beach of the island. Myiona looked
  down at the ground and sighed. It seemed that nothing would be normal here,
  not even the ground. Darkness was falling quickly around them and she knew
  they would be moving out soon.

  Vicky
  aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
  Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 
  Mura'shar boarded the last boat to shore, to give Myiona as much time to
  recover as possible. As they headed towards the shore, he couldn't help but
  marvel that everyone was still able to travel. There were no serious
  injuries after that mishap with the shield. There were some bumps, bruises,
  and a lot of headaches. He winced and rubbed his temples. A lot of bad heada
  ches. What in the Light happened back there? At least Myiona was alright.
  He hoped she'd stay alright this time.
  Once they landed, Stevan instructed everyone to stay together. Both
  Storm Teams would move in a single group. The Sea Folk tales were full of
  stories about hostile natives, including mad channelers. There was safety
  in numbers.
  Mura'shar wouldn't have minded having another Storm Team or two here
  himself. The terrain looked as hostile as any number of channelers. The
  wildlife was bizarre (was that really a small bear he saw climbing through
  the trees in the distance?) Anything might be deadly, or harmless, and they
  wouldn't recognize it as such.
  As they picked their way across the beach of glass, Mura'shar glanced at
  Myiona. She was as nervous as he was, but put on a brave face. They were
  about to enter a land no one outside the Sea Folk knew about. And few of
  them returned from.

  __________________________

  Yes, this is short and weak, but I'm too tired to be creative right now:)

  Jake
  Marked Asha'man

 
  The small group of channelers wearily climbed up the steep beach toward
  the cliff line. Myiona glanced about concerned for her Dragonsworn. She
  knew Ariana would have a hard time with the climb. When she sighted the
  woman she was glad to see one of the Asha'men at her side aiding her in the
  climb.
  Up ahead she could see Stevan leading the group. He was several paces
  ahead of everyone and seemed impatient at having to slow the pace to give
  others more time. Resisting an urge to stick her tongue out at his back,
  Myiona grinned instead remembering something she had learned as an Accepted.
  Her fear of teaching the class of Novices was great until she was told to
  picture them in their underwear. It worked then and did now also. Giggling,
  she glanced at Mura'shar who gave her a troubled look.
  ~Honestly,~ she thought, ~he has been acting as if he was worried about
  my sanity. Other than the topless incident I have done nothing out of
  character. Have I?~ Myiona knew that the headaches had been leaving gaps in
  her memory, but assumed she had been sleeping during the time she did not
  remember. She decided she should ask Mura'shar about it at the first
  opportunity.
  Finally, the ragged band of channelers made it over the crest. After a
  brief stop so they could catch their breath, Stevan led them inland. As the
  first village was sighted, the group stopped to consider what to do. Some
  seemed to think they should avoid the villages totally, but others argued
  that it was an opportunity to gather information.
 

  Vicky
  aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
  Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 
  Finally, the ragged band of channelers made it over the crest. After a
  brief stop so they could catch their breath, Stevan led them inland. As the
  first village was sighted, the group stopped to consider what to do. Some
  seemed to think they should avoid the villages totally, but others argued
  that it was an opportunity to gather information.

  Well, that was definitely a ride. Unlike everyone else, Talia actually
  liked that "boatride." While disembarking, the sea-sick Alan gave Talia odd
  looks for having that huge grin on her face. She gave him a sympathetic
  look and pat his back soothingly. "We're almost to land." She chuckled at
  him, sitting in this little boat, rowing toward shore.

  At the shoreline, Alan gladly proclaimed that he's never sailing again.
  Talia smirked. Prophecies like that usually crash hard. Helping Alan
  become accustomed to still dry land again, Talia supported his weight until
  he said he was okay. She, of course, made it look like he was only holding
  her.

  After some rest, the group ascended the sharp cliffs and stopped there in
  order to discuss the next step. Avoid the villages? Or go to them for
  information? Talia really didn't care. Her view was to avoid them, but the
  others had points too. After a while the group made their decision and
  camped for the night. Rest, of course, is somthing everyone needs to get a
  quest successfully completed.

  Everyone was to keep together. Okay. Talia had no problem with that.
  She just had the legs that needed to stretch. She didn't think anyone would
  have a problem with her walking just a bit out of the campsite. Alan
  obviously wanted to keep an eye on her, even though he was just now getting
  over sea sickness. She chuckled at him as he walked up to her.

  "Afraid I'll disappear in the night?" She asked with a smirk as she
  walked on, slowly, drinking in all the oddities of the island.

  "No, I don't trust this place, though." He said, walking alongside her.

  "Eh, it's just like any other different place.. Well, not totally, but,
  you know..." Talia smiled.. and then jerked her head to the side.. "You
  hear that? It sounded like..."

  "AIIEEEEE!!" The screech came from the stranger's throat as she came from
  out of nowhere, seemingly. Talia could feel the Saidar emitting from the
  woman and prepared to defend herself when the woman let loose with a barrage
  of hits.. using the Power in ways she'd never think of........... And that
  was her last thought as she fell hard and fast to the ground....
 
 

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  take it, Joe *L*

  ~Talia Daimar
  ~Dragonsworn
  aka
  ~TTT or Miya
  <><

 Alan felt the tingle on his forearms only a moment before Talia was
  lying unconscious next to him. He could not see the weaves but he saw the
  woman glaring at both of them. This strange lady must have thought he was
  only a soldier guarding the female channeler and had thought to deal with
  him after Talia was knocked unconscious. Seething rage filled him, and he
  assumed the void in an instant, focusing on the woman, he drove a razor
  sharp wedge between her and the source, or at least he tried too. Instead
  he met an enormous amount of resistance. This woman was strong, very
  strong, in the one power. Gritting his teeth, he saw Talia writhing on the
  ground, blood was coming out of her ears and nose. A cry of anguish erupted
  from his mouth and he started to run towards the woman who had caused this
  painful moment. Breaking into a sprint he withdrew his sword and dagger.
  She tried to pummel him with weaves of saidar, but all it did was anger the
  young ashaman even more. He deflected the blows, or sliced through them
  with slivers of spirit. In what seemed like hours but could only have been
  seconds Alan reached this crazed channeler. She had a mad look in her eyes,
  and was frothing at the mouth. She tried to attack him with her hands, but
  that ended up in her losing one to Alan's dagger. She did not show any pain
  instead her eyes widened and she started to laugh. Looking strangely at
  her hand and the bloody stump Alan had caused she seemed to be unable to
  realize she was about to die. Without any emotion except pure hatred, Alan
  took saidin and wove it in a weave he had never used before. It came to him
  on the tides of hate and enimity he felt for this...thing. Suddenly she
  started to scream. As she screamed she was slowly lifted in the air, she
  started to revolve, and after every revolution she slowly turned grayer and
  grayer. Then her scream died out, and only her eyes could move. They
  showed the pain her body was experiencing. They rolled around her head in
  agonizing circles. Alan was slowly turning her to stone. He was using
  Earth in a way he had never imagined. Now even her eyes stopped moving.
  She had been transformed into a totally benign statue. After
  this...evolution, Alan could still feel the hate inside of him, and he did
  not like the feeling. He threw all of his energy and all of his hate into
  one action. Lifting her even higher into the air, Alan took the woman and
  tossed her against a large tree. The insane channeler shattered with the
  sheer force, and the tree in which she had been thrown against had been
  knocked down. Blood sprayed every where. It seemed only the outside of the
  woman had been turned to stone. Turning around, Alan still did not let go
  of Saidin. It was a hateful companion at the moment but it was all he had
  to keep him on his feet. Running back to Talia, he noticed that Myiona was
  kneeling next to her. Myiona looked up at him and slowly shook her head.
  Murashar put a comforting hand on her shoulder.
  "Is she dead?" Alan asked in the calm voice of the void.
  "No, not yet, but healing will do nothing, all the superficial wounds
  of the body are healed, but the wounds of the soul remain." Myiona
  whispered, afraid to say the words to loudly. Alan lost the void for a
  moment and fell on his knees. "No" he thought. I can not let it end like
  this. Standing up, he took a step towards the prone DragonSworn. Alan then
  gently picked her up in his arms and started to walk away. There was only
  one chance, one born out of desparation, one born out of love. Unawares to
  him, Myiona started to get up to walk towards the two members of the Black
  Tower, but Murashar stopped her with a nod of his head. She gave him a
  questioning look, and he just stared at the two retreating figures like he
  had an idea what was about to happen.
  Alan had passed out of earshot, and sight when he laid Talia down on the
  floor of this horrible forest. Taking a deep breath, he embraced saidar,
  and leaning down over the unconscious Dragonsworn gave her a kiss. As he
  kissed her unyielding lips, he let loose the weave he had created. It was
  the first time he had ever bonded a woman, and had had to ask Ivan to teach
  him the weaves in what seemed like so long ago. But it was the only thing
  he could think of to save her. As he finished the weave, something
  spectacular happened. As he was about to pull away he felt Talia return his
  kiss. Not only did she kiss back but she bonded Alan. It was as if a
  concussion of sound hit him with the force of a lightening bolt. He was
  aware of Talia in a way he never thought possible. Lifting his face away
  from hers, he could see her eyes were open, and a slight smile was on her
  lips. Then her eyes closed and she seemed to sleep. Alan could tell
  through the bond that she was going to be okay. He picked her up again and
  walked back to the rest of the group. Murashar gave him a knowing nod, and
  Myiona came over and quickly delved the sleeping Talia. A look of shock
  crossed her face, and was quickly replaced by a questioning frown when Alan
  started to walk away with a wonderful smile shining forth from his face.
  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  I have not written an RP that long in a very long while. It was fun but now
  i am off to bed.
  Joe
  wheww!! that was hard work, my fingers are cramping :)

 
  Trudging along with the group, Xyranthes looked skyward, and blinked. Unless
  he was completely off base, they had either lost almost a full day, or gained
  three hours with the ... whatever it was that had brought them to the
  continent.
  "And I think they would be a valuable source of information. We can't avoid
  everyplace and hut we come across." One of the Dragonsworn was saying. Steven
  looked unmoved.
  "I'm afraid I concur with Ariana, we cannot afford to hide out in the
  wilderness during our entire stay here." Xyranthes began. "For one, we don't
  know anything about this land, it could be worse in the wilds than in the
  villages. Two, we are here to try and find out, well ... something about what
  is happening on Tremalking. And Three..." Never came, for a scream from
  behind distracted the debaters. A strange woman had burst into the small
  field where they had gathered, and attacked one of the Dragon sworn. Young
  Alan, channeled to protect her and the rest of the group, ignoring Steven's
  and Xyranthes call to not channel.
  As they looked, Alan used a strange weave, one that Xyranthes had only read
  about.
  "A Medheusea weave, I've..." and the old Cairheinian limped over to the young
  man.

  Peter
  <><

 Ariana looked with growing dismay at the mountains the group was approaching.
  There was no way she could climb that...well, there's one way. But it's
  somewhat risky. Stopping, she opened the pack she kept always with her and
  pulled out another, smaller bag about small enough to fit easily in her fist.
  From it she extracted three small, black pills. Closing her eyes, she
  swallowed them quickly, trying not to grimace at the taste. They would dull
  the pain of the climb- and any other pain. The risk was sustaining a serious
  injury that she wouldn't notice. The pills, made from a mushroom that grew
  on the Shadow Coast, completely blocked pain. She should only have taken one
  and a half, she knew, but she had had to do things like this before. Three
  was safe enough as long as she watched herself- difficult to do, since the
  drugs would pretty much knock her out- and made sure she walked them off.
  Which, looking at this mountain, she was fairly sure she'd manage that. She
  started onward, trying to pace herself since she had no convenient
  medications that provided a second wind. After a while, she could feel the
  drugs taking effect. She thought vaguely that this was one of a very small
  number of times she had ever walked without pain. All of them had been due
  to this drug. She barely noticed when one of the Asha'man began helping her
  with the climb; all her focus was on getting over the mountains, and trying
  to remember to monitor the effect of the pills she had swallowed. Otherwise,
  she would never have accepted the help.
  At long last, they reached the other side. Fortunately, the mountains had
  been simply a ring around the cove, not an entire range. Ariana sighed
  deeply, and looked around. The climb, htough short, had been as hard as she
  had thought it would be, and the medications were wearing off. All the pain
  they had been blocking she could feel now, and it wasn't pleasant. When
  Stevan asked for opinions on whether to avoid the people of this island, she
  volunteered hers, though she had a few reservations. But if she dind't rest,
  she would be of no use whatever, and they might as well try to communicate
  with these people. "I think we should stop and ask at the village, at least
  the first one. Afther all, there are a lot of villages along the way and it
  could take a long time to try and avoid all of them. Besides, I think they
  could be a valuable source of information. We can't avoid every place and hut
  we come across." Steven looked unmoved, but the Cairhienin who had led the
  link took up her part.
  "I'm afraid I concur with Ariana, we cannot afford to hide out in the
  wilderness during our entire stay here." Xyranthes began. "For one, we don't
  know anything about this land, it could be worse in the wilds than in the
  villages. Two, we are here to try and find out, well ... something about what
  is happening on Tremalking. And Three..." He never enumerated his third
  point, for a scream split the air, Whirling awkwardly, Ariana saw a woman
  attack one of the Dragonsworn while a young Asha'man tried to defend her.
  The weave the attacker used was like nothing she'd ever seen, but she heard
  Xyranthes exclaim, "A Medheusea weave, I've..." she lost the rest of his
  explanation as he hurried over to help Alan. She did the same, trying to
  think of a way to defend herself and them that didn't require channeling,
  since the leaders were yelling warnings not to. Too bad she didn't have a
  staff... oh, well. By hte time she got there, they'd be either dead or
  victorious. The long trek and the returning of the pain had slowed her down.
  She hoped worriedly that they all would get a chance to rest soon. Everyone
  looked like they needed it- but first, they had to rescue Talia.

 
  The group breathed a collective sigh of relief knowing that Talia would
  be okay. Even a few smiles could be seen, some reliving there own bonding
  experiences. Tareena briefly thought of how and why she had been bonded to
  Darren. It seems so long ago and far away. All of the mistrust and me
  almost killing Mur'ashar. I am glad that everything has changed. For the
  better.
  Tareena had advocated for going into the village but a decision had not
  yet been made that she could tell. Gathering all of the noviates and
  initiates around her, she answered there questions and soothed their fears to
  the best of her ability. She had forgotten that not all of the members were
  used to bloodshed in battle, especially not one as gruesome as the death of
  the channeler. As for herself, standing 100 yards from something, animate or
  inanimate, and blowing it to pieces was as much a part of her as breathing.
  That was how she was trained. Which didn't mean she didn't have compassion
  for their feelings, she just wished that they weren't quite as prone to cry
  as she was seeing.
  Tareena wandered over and sat down next to Alcina. She liked the calm
  dignity displayed by the Dragonsworn, and she liked her quietness together
  the two sat in companionable silence, watching and resting. After a while,
  they began to discuss the events of the last few days and how they felt about
  where they were going. Tareena began to feel a sense of unease, as if
  something that should have been remembered had been forgotten in the
  excitement. We are spending to much time here in indecision, we need to keep
  moving, find the answers. I feel like a sitting duck. Why do I have
  goosbumps on my arms? What am I missing, what am I forgetting? Instinctively
  Tareena moved away from Alcina and closer to her bondmate. She needed to
  feel his security. Darren must have felt some of her anxiety through the
  bond. As she moved towards him, she saw his head come up and begin to look
  around, searching for her.
  Gratefully she stood beside him, drawing strength. She knew not what,
  but something was wrong, terribly wrong. Other members began to suddenly
  shift their feet and begin to look around. Out of the darkness an eerie wail
  caressed the night, haunting in it's song. The flesh on her arms rose as the
  wail continued and was joined by others, higher and lower in pitch. It was
  impossible to tell where they originated. The cliffs behind echoed the
  sounds. It sounded like they were everywhere and nowhere, in front and
  behind. Cackles began to make their way along the tides of sounds, rippling,
  tearing at their ears.
  The members faced the cliffs, terror painted on their faces. Watch
  creatures made such awful noises. What could make you want to put your hands
  over your ears and scream your fury back? A shout arose from behind them.
  Whirling around, a collective horrifies gasp emitted. The choice of whether
  or not to go into the village had suddenly been taken out of their hands.
  The villagers were coming to them.
  Drums began a staccato rhythm, whooping and hollering, creatures out of
  a child's nightmare came pouring forth from their huts. The wails and
  cackles continued above. No way up and no way down. A shadow crossed over
  the moon.

 Talia didn't remember much. A woman attacked using the Power like she had
  never seen before. Then Talia remembered waking to an incredible feeling..
  an odd feeling she wasn't prepared for. It was then she noticed the kiss..
  a kiss that was not like anything she'd ever experienced before. The kiss
  had a wonderful feel to it.. an extra boost, as it were, as if she were
  feeling the kisser's emotions. Her eyes fluttered tiredly open, and she
  gazed up to see Alan. With a gentle kiss in return, Talia realized what had
  happened. Alan had bonded her. Well, she wasn't about to let him get away
  with that. She had to turn the tables. During the response kiss, she
  bonded him in return. The feeling intensified. It was wonderful, yet odd.
  The Healing she must have had, the bonding, and the channeling too its
  toll.. and after the kiss, Talia fell to sleep with a soft smile on her
  face...

  The sound of a wail crossed her ears while she slept, and she slept on,
  only a nightmare began. She dreamed the camp was being attacked. Stirring
  slightly, not knowing where she was exactly. The dream seemed so real that
  it frightened her.. or rather disturbed her. Her dream did not allow her to
  fight by their sides. She longed for her knives. An adventure she could
  not partake of. She felt a nervousness that wasn't her own, as she saw
  through someone else's eyes in her dream. Surrounded.... Talia's dreaming
  mind could not fathom how real this truly was. With a shiver in her sleep,
  she murmured a name.. a name that was now seemingly synonymous to her own...
  "Alan....."

  ~Talia Daimar~
  ~Dragonsworn~
  played by
  ~TTT aka Miya~
  <><

 
  The attack on Talia shook the small group of channelers. Her death did
  nothing to stop their fears. Myiona hurried to the side of the injured
  Dragonsworn. She immediately knew that there was nothing she could do.
  Alan carried Talia away from the group and bent over and kissed her. At
  first, Myiona thought it only a good-bye kiss, but then she saw the glow of
  Saidar around Talia. Myiona smiled and gave Mura'shar a quick hug as she
  hurried to Talia's side. "Now she will be fine," she said looking down at
  the sleeping woman.
  It seemed odd to Myiona that those two had found each other. They seemed
  so different, but stranger things had happened. She looked at the smiling
  Asha'man walking away and wondered if she had ever seen him smile before.
  Myiona saw that Tareena was speaking with the newer members of the Tower
  and she walked over to sit down by Mura'shar. He seemed glad of her presence
  and smiled as he stared off into the distance.
  The silence of the night was broken by an eerie wailing. Myiona watched
  in horror as they were surrounded. "I hope someone has an idea of how to get
  out of this," she muttered whirling around to look at the cliffs above, where
  other creatures had gathered.
  Crude spears were lifted in the air as a figure was thrust into the
  middle of the group. Myiona was startled to see a young girl standing in
  front of her. She was clutching her arm and emitting horrible sounds.
  Myiona took a step closer to the child and reached out toward her. She
  embraced the source and delved the child's arm. It had been broken long ago
  and was not set correctly. Blood flow was being disrupted by the bone that
  was growing in an odd fashion.
  "Light burn them," she muttered as she grabbed the arm and began severing
  the new growth. "How could anyone let a child go through something like
  this? Well, I will fix her arm even if they kill me afterwards."
  "This is going to hurt," she warned the girl as she thrust the bone into
  its proper place. The girl screamed again and passed out. Myiona caught her
  and eased her to the ground, continuing to work on the arm. She accelerated
  the bone growth, eased the muscles and tendons back into position, and caused
  blood circulation to speed up to nourish the new growth.
  "There," she said satisfied with her work, "at least I have done some
  good on this light blasted island." She stood up and dusted off her dress.
  Then she looked around at the villagers.
  Almost as one, they ran at the members of the Black Tower. Myiona
  dragged the child off to the side and ran into the battle. Sword in one hand
  and dagger in the other, she attacked the nearest villager.
  She looked around at the number of attackers and sighed. ~Why do we
  always have to be outnumbered,~ Myiona thought. ~It would be nice, just
  once, to have the larger force. Not bloody likely when we take so few people
  on our little outings!~
  Soon, the number of bodies on the ground was larger than those still
  standing. The remaining villagers ran off into the darkness. Myiona hurried
  to check on the child. She spoke soothingly to the girl and was able to get
  her to speak. After some questions she found out that the villagers had
  broken her arm. They did all sorts of horrible things to inflict pain on
  themselves and each other. They considered themselves normal and considered
  their children to be monsters.
  Soon, the girl had gone back to sleep and Myiona went to check on her
  bondmate. He was helping dispose of the dead with some of the other
  Asha'men. She quickly delved him and healed the wounds he sustained in the
  battle. "I guess you will live," she said with a smile, "and it is a good
  thing too. Breaking in a new bondmate is so tiring."

  Vicky
  aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
  Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 
  Mura'shar sat with Myiona as Tareena lectured a class to an impromptu
  course on combat. Myiona came over and sat next to him. He smiled at her,
  though his thoughts were on what he'd witnessed earlier.
  It came as little surprise that Alan ended up bonding Talia, the two
  either would have bonded each other or murdered each other sooner or later,
  though the circumstances here were somewhat more dire than what usually
  happened in the Black Tower.
  He remembered when he and Myiona bonded. They were about to face an
  army pouring through the Spine of the World and they had no idea if they
  would survive the next day.
  He was still wrapped up in the past when he heard the howls. He jerked
  himself back to reality and looked around. The camp was surrounded by shapes
  of wailing ... villagers ... he supposed. He saw that they carried crude
  weapons, though he couldn't guess at the numbers. Lots, he supposed
  "I hope someone has an idea of how to get out of this," Myiona muttered
  as she scanned the cliffs above them. There were more there, of course.
  One of the villagers shoved a figure into the camp. It was a little
  girl, clutching her arm and clearly in great pain.
  Myiona examined the girl and began doing something to her arm. Mura'shar
  and the others got their weapons ready. Their didn't seem to be any
  channelers in this group, but the Black Tower was still badly outnumbered.
  And the M'Hael always drilled into them that an arrow could kill one of them
  just as easily as an ordinary man.
  The girl screamed and fainted. Myiona lowered the child to the ground as
  the first shapes charged the campsite. Mura'shar found himself confronting
  several opponents at one wielding crude spears and knives.
  Mura'shar channeled, and fire enveloped one of them and quickly spread
  to two others. But others replaced them. Mura'shar channeled some more, and
  more enemies fell. His blade cut through a badly made spear and into another
  enemy. And still they came, with no thought for their own safety. They
  simply wanted to kill.
  At first, Mura'shar felt sorry fro them. They were clearly not in
  control of their faculties. The way they threw their lives away was proof of
  that. But as time went on, and the bodies piled up, Mura'shar lost his
  sympathy for them and focused on staying alive. Their weapons were crude,
  but the Mura'shar was tiring, and there was no end in sight to the human
  wave.
  He lost sight of Myiona, whom he last saw standing over the prone form
  of the child and was viscously defending her. Others flashed by his vision,
  fighting alone or in small knots, trying to reach each other to bolster their
  strength. Mura'shar tried making his way to one, though there were so many
  bodies on the ground that walking was becoming difficult.
  Finally, the villagers fled, though they had lost a good two thirds of
  their number, at least. Mura'shar sat for a moment, glad to be alive. He
  had taken only a few scratches, mostly from flying bits of stone as his blade
  hit a stone spearhead.
  Stevan ordered all the bodies to be disposed of. They gathered all the
  bodies and parts of bodies into a mass grave. Everyone wanted relocate
  quickly in case the remaining villagers came back with reinforcements.
  As Mura'shar poured another group of bodies into the hole, Myiona came
  to check on him. He seemed none the worse for wear, though he sensed she was
  troubled by something. She checked him and Healed his wounds.
  "I guess you will live," she said with a smile, "and it is a good thing
  too. Breaking in a new bondmate is so tiring."
  "I know what you mean" he said, returning her smile and gave her a
  significant look. She gave a small laugh and led him away from the grisly
  work.
  Myiona told him what the child told her. About the villagers and their
  incredibly violent behavior towards even their own children. Mura'shar felt
  himself go cold inside. This is truly the Land of the Madmen. Light, is
  the whole land like this? Is everyone on the island truly insane? He tried
  to find some encouraging words, but had none to give. After hearing the
  child's tale, he felt he could use some himself.

  Jake
  marked Asha'man

 
  Alan's adrenaline from the previous battle had faded, and he felt
  tired. Yet there was something there, something that did not feel normal to
  Alan. It was as if there was an extra reserve of strength that he had not
  had before. A well of power and stamina that he could draw on. It was a
  good thing he had this added benefit of being bonded because no sooner did
  he lay Talia down did the ear splitting screams start. They were being
  attacked. Looking over at the rest of the group Alan could see Myiona and
  Murashar. Myiona seemed to have a little child in her arms, and Murashar
  was battling several hundred insane villagers. Alan started running to give
  his brother some much needed aid when twenty or so of these "villagers" came
  at him from the opposite direction. It seemed they had some idea of tactics
  and they were trying to surround the members of the black tower. They were
  closer to the prostrate Talia then they were to Alan. A seething rage
  ignited in the young ashaman. Calmly through the void he wondered if this
  was because of the recent bond. These villagers armed with crude
  instruments of war were close to the sleeping dragonsworn. Intent on the
  woman lying on the ground they did not see Alan charge. If they saw they
  could have run. Alan unsheathed his sword and dagger and embraced the sword
  at the same time. Rushing into the group of villagers Alan was a wind of
  death. Battling with both the power and steel, the Ashaman killed several.
  One flint spear came close to killing the member of the Black Tower, instead
  it only nicked his ear. He turned towards his adversary seeing a man about
  his age, thickly muscled and with a gleam in his eye. The man smiled at
  Alan...Alan smiled back. Looking around he noticed that the rest of the
  villagers were either or dead or running away. It was just him and this
  "thing". Circling each other, it looked like two wolves fighting over a
  prized kill. Alan made a decision, one he had made before in battles. He
  would not use the power to kill this man. The man charged with his spear.
  Alan slid out of the way, avoided the spear, but not fast enough to avoid
  the mans swinging fist. His head rang like the bells during Beltine but he
  kept his feet. His foe swung the spear in an arc towards Alans midsection
  but was stopped when the wood shaft was separated by the Ashamans dagger.
  With the Dark One's own luck the severed spear head flew up in the air and
  landed behind the villager. He picked it up and now held two weapons where
  he used to have one. Instead of waiting for this behemoth to attack him,
  Alan went on the offensive, stepping towards the man he swung at the mans
  midsection with his dagger, and thrusted towards his neck with the sword.
  Somehow the man avoided both, but could not help but fall over something.
  Alan was about to pounce on the man when he noticed an object protruding
  from the mans chest. Looking closer, Alan could see that the man had fallen
  on a shattered tree stump with a sharp edge. The villager was still alive,
  and had the look of a caged animal in his eyes. Commiting his soul to the
  creator, Alan quickly slit his throat. Looking around he saw the other
  members of the Black Tower coming back to the main encampment. Most wore
  scratches and small injuries but none had been killed. Checking on Talia,
  Alan noticed she was still asleep. Nodding with satisfaction he walked over
  to steven. While sheathing his sword he turned to their fearless leader and
  said, "So, whats next??"
  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  Well yall it is 430 in the morning here, and i just got done watching fight
  club...a pretty good movie. Sorry for the long rps but i am feeling a
  little verbose today. Hope yall have a great weekend. Check ya later
  Joe

 Stevan used his little skill in Water to wash the blood off his arms and
  sword, and looked around at the blood-stained ground. Other Asha'man were
  busy burying the bodies of the villagers into a mass grave. Why so much death?

  Death was something he was used to facing, but he hated it. He hated war,
  although it was commonplace in Shienar. All he wanted was peace, no fighting.
  They had travelled all this way from the Blight, away from the Dark One's
  touch...and they still had enemies, still had war.

  Nevertheless, these people were mad. And the child's story confirmed that.
  She was now well, after Myiona had expertly Healed her arm. Women channellers
  could sometimes come in use...not many Asha'man were skilled in Healing.

  He sighed and began to think. Where to next? This land was large, and
  dangerous as it had just proved, and he had little knowledge of where to go.
  Then suddenly an idea hit him.

  He dashed through the mass of Asha'man and Dragonsworn to find the child, and
  he saw her with Myiona sitting by her, talking to her softly. He ran up, and
  quickly pulled up the parchment which he had copied the runes from the ter'ang
  real onto, which he then thrust in front of the girl's face. As an
  afterthought, he realised it had been quite rude and shocking to the child,
  but his excitement had overcome him.

  "Do you know anything about these runes?" he asked hurriedly, and then when
  the girl looked blankly at him he spoke again, but slower. They spoke the
  same language in this country, but in contrast to Tareena's Seanchan slur,
  their words were harsh and sharp.

  The girl looked fearful, but she nervously answered him. "They come
  from...fiery mountain...long way from here..."

  Fiery mountain? Did she mean volcano? Never mind...all they needed to know
  was how to get there. "Do you know where that...fiery mountain...can be
  found?"

  "If you follow the direction where the sun sets in the winter, then you will
  come across it." This time the girl spoke more assured, half proudly, as if
  this volcano to the...south-west...was a sacred item to her people. But more
  about her customs could wait. They now had to travel.
 

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

  You never minded giving us the stars
  And showing us how blind and unaware of You we are
  You painted me a picture and You showed me how to see
  But I just won't behold it unless it pertains to me.

 Ariana was roused from her wishes for calm when the group was suddenly
  surrounded by a tribe of whooping, howling...madmen. Light, whoever named
  this island obviously met the locals! But there was no time to wonder why
  they were attacking. Quick as a thought, Ariana conjured a shield around
  her, then made a staff of air hard as steel. Vaguely she was aware that she
  must look strange, fighting with what appeared to be nothing held in her
  hands. But there was no time to make or get a more sophisticated weapon.
  The madmen were on them like cats attacking a nest of mice. Ariana saw the
  poor child, and was relieved when Myiona healed her. Right now she didn't
  trust her own ability, what with the storm, the climb over the mountains, and
  coming off the drugs she had used to get through it all. She felt fortunate
  that she had managed the stick-thing she held. Healing was far more
  complicated, and Ariana wasn't willing to risk an error when a child was at
  stake. After all, she could make another staff it was ruined- but she
  couldn't replicate a child.
  Then there was no time to think, as she fell into the automatic state of
  attack-and-defend. She kept them away from her, and gradually moved toward
  where Myiona was defending the child. She took up a position on the other
  side, defending both child and herself. When the battle was over, she
  banished her staff and sat with exaggerated care on the ground next to the
  girl, wrapped her arms around her knees, and sagged in utter exhaustion. I
  most sincerely hope we know where we're going, she thought. And I really hope
  there're no more attacks like this one. Shovelling our ways through piles
  of the dead is really not such a great way to impress them with our
  harmlessness. After a few minutes she raised her head. Myiona and Stevan
  were talking to the girl, Stevan holding the piece of paper with the strange
  runes on them. Presumably, they were asking what, if anything, she knew of
  them. Feeling guilt that she hadn't been there to Heal the girl, Ariana got-
  slowly- to her feet and went around from her position behind the child to
  find out what she could. The girl watched warily as she limped over; Ariana
  realized that she probably thought she was one of the deformed madmen who had
  hurt her. She sighed under her breath; now she would have to convince the
  poor girl of her own authenticity. She made out the last of the conversation
  as she came over. Then she knelt before her and smiled. "My name is
  Ariana," she said carefully, "Can you tell us more about this mountain of
  fire?" The girl's words were clipped and harsh, as though she spoke rarely-
  or had never learned proper speech. Likely not, with such as parents, she
  thought sadly. She listened as the girl gave directions, then turned to
  Stevan and Myiona and asked, "So. When do we set out?"

 
  Andraia had made it through the battle, still wrapped in her emotionless
  wall and with very few villagers to fight. Her hood had fallen off midway
  through the trek up the cliff, and she had ignored the fact, or perhaps not
  cared enough to pull it back. The sun was weak enough now that it wouldn't
  burn her eyes or scorch her delicate skin, and her weird, unearthly pale
  looks had seemed to remind the villagers of some of the frightening beasts
  that lived on the island, so they had simply fought around her. Those that
  had been too far gone in their madness had confronted her and now lay dead in
  their mass grave
  She could feel Stevan through the bond, faintly, but it was like someone
  calling from within a grove of trees -- it was faint, and impossible to tell
  precisely where the shouter was. She had seen him glance toward her in
  momentary lulls in the battle, making sure she was still alive... obviously,
  he was having trouble feeling her through the bond as well. Now that the
  battle was finished he was eagerly making his way towards the child the
  villagers had thrust into the camp, wanting to talk to her. Instead of
  following and hearing what the girl -- was it a girl? She hadn't been close
  enough to see since the child arrived -- had to say. Instead, she turned and
  looked toward the setting sun, pulling her hood absently over her hair once
  again. Slightly to the left of where she was looking, another plume of smoke
  drifted lazily through the air, slowly dissapating on it's way into the sky -
  another village, perhaps. She heard the sounds of moving feet to her right
  and saw that the group was moving out, toward that plume of smoke on the
  horizon, Stevan in the lead. She gathered her cloak around her and followed,
  a dark wisp to the rear, wrapped in more than her cloak.

  Andraia Korinth

 
  After Stevan questioned the child, Ariana came over to speak with her.
  Myiona knew that the trip up from the beach had caused the Dragonsworn a lot
  of pain.
  "My name is Ariana," she said carefully, "can you tell us more about
  this mountain of fire?"
  "I am Skree," she said slowly. "The mountain of fire is that way, where
  the sun rises over the cliffs. There are many villages between and other
  things." The girl shivered and Myiona put an arm around her.
  "So," Ariana asked, "when do we set out?"
  After some discussion, the group decided to find another place to rest
  for a few hours and they began moving. As they walked, Myiona asked Skree,
  "What will you do now? Is there anyone else, family that you can go to?"
  "No," the girl said sadly. "My mother died a few months ago. Any other
  villages would kill me on sight because I am a stranger. Without a village I
  will die of hunger. Can I go with you? I can help you avoid the others and
  maybe be of some aid at the fire mountain."
  "I think that can be arranged," Myiona said with a smile. "I will
  discuss it with the others." She looked around and found that they were
  stopping. She pulled some blankets out and settled the girl in a sheltered
  area. As Skree tossed in the blankets, Myiona knelt by her side and smoothed
  her hair back. Then she began softly singing a lullaby to her until she was
  asleep.
  As she stood up, she heard a voice behind her say, "I would have never
  thought you were the motherly sort." As she turned around, Mura'shar put a
  hand on her shoulder and looked in her eyes. "What is she going to do now?"
  "She wants to go with us," Myiona stated simply. "She knows the island
  and could be helpful to us. I know we face danger and possibly death here,
  but if we leave her alone she will surely die."
  They rested most of the day, allowing those that had been injured as much
  time to recover as possible. As night was falling, the small group started
  out again. In the distance, Myiona could hear the howls of some beast.
  "That is just a wild dog," the girl said. "They might attack one alone, but
  have never been known to attack a whole group. There are other things out
  here who would and they are most likely to be hunting at night. There are
  also snakes and lizards who are deadly."
  At the mention of snakes, Myiona shuddered. She was terrified of snakes.
  "Great," she muttered, "snakes, wild beasts, crazy people, and a volcano.
  What more could a girl want on a tropical island?"
  Mura'shar laughed and put his arm around her. "I guess you wanted cold
  drinks," he said, "dancing, and people waiting on you hand and foot."
  "Well," Myiona said smiling, "that would be a nice change of pace. We
  seem to run into battles and horrible monsters everywhere we go. Just once I
  would like to go somewhere fun."
 

  Vicky
  aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
  Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 After Stevan questioned the child, Ariana came over to speak with her.
  Myiona knew that the trip up from the beach had caused the Dragonsworn a lot
  of pain.
  "My name is Ariana," she said carefully, "can you tell us more about
  this mountain of fire?"
  "I am Skree," she said slowly. "The mountain of fire is that way, where
  the sun rises over the cliffs. There are many villages between and other
  things." The girl shivered and Myiona put an arm around her.
  "So," Ariana asked, "when do we set out?"
  After some discussion, the group decided to find another place to rest
  for a few hours and they began moving. As they walked, Myiona asked Skree,
  "What will you do now? Is there anyone else, family that you can go to?"
  "No," the girl said sadly. "My mother died a few months ago. Any other
  villages would kill me on sight because I am a stranger. Without a village I
  will die of hunger. Can I go with you? I can help you avoid the others and
  maybe be of some aid at the fire mountain."
  "I think that can be arranged," Myiona said with a smile. "I will
  discuss it with the others." She looked around and found that they were
  stopping. She pulled some blankets out and settled the girl in a sheltered
  area. As Skree tossed in the blankets, Myiona knelt by her side and smoothed
  her hair back. Then she began softly singing a lullaby to her until she was
  asleep.
  As she stood up, she heard a voice behind her say, "I would have never
  thought you were the motherly sort." As she turned around, Mura'shar put a
  hand on her shoulder and looked in her eyes. "What is she going to do now?"
  "She wants to go with us," Myiona stated simply. "She knows the island
  and could be helpful to us. I know we face danger and possibly death here,
  but if we leave her alone she will surely die."
  They rested most of the day, allowing those that had been injured as much
  time to recover as possible. As night was falling, the small group started
  out again. In the distance, Myiona could hear the howls of some beast.
  "That is just a wild dog," the girl said. "They might attack one alone, but
  have never been known to attack a whole group. There are other things out
  here who would and they are most likely to be hunting at night. There are
  also snakes and lizards who are deadly."
  At the mention of snakes, Myiona shuddered. She was terrified of snakes.
  "Great," she muttered, "snakes, wild beasts, crazy people, and a volcano.
  What more could a girl want on a tropical island?"
  Mura'shar laughed and put his arm around her. "I guess you wanted cold
  drinks," he said, "dancing, and people waiting on you hand and foot."
  "Well," Myiona said smiling, "that would be a nice change of pace. We
  seem to run into battles and horrible monsters everywhere we go. Just once I
  would like to go somewhere fun."
 

  Vicky
  aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
  Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 Alcinia nodded to Tareena as she sat down. They talked for a few
  minutes and then Tareena headed over to stand near her bondmate.
  Alcinia sighed and continued sharpening her knives. She knew that not
  being bonded made her an oddity as a Dragonsworn since most bonded
  rather quickly, but she had not met anyone that she wanted to bond
  with.
  She leaned her head against her hand for a moment, wondering if
  she would ever meet anyone that she thought was special. She wondered
  if anyone would ever look at her the way Alan looked at Talia.
  The attack was a surprise to Alcinia, who was deep in thought when
  it came. When she realized what was happening, she pulled her knives
  out. Thwap! One flew from her hands, embedding itself in the throat
  of a man who had circled around the group. Two more knives quickly
  followed, one finding its mark in the eye of an attacker and the other
  in the throat of another.
  Then, Alcinia embraced the source and used it to battle. Fire
  balls flew from her hands, catching the hair and clothing of the
  attackers. The battle ended as quickly as it had begun and afterwards
  the group moved to a more safe location.
  Alcinia, still wide awake, asked for first watch as they settled
  into a small cave. She found a tree outside and climbed up in it to
  watch the approach to the cave and to look up at the night sky. She
  wondered what she would do when they returned to the Black Tower. Now
  that she knew how to use the power, she considered going her own way.
  Decisions were never easy to make and she knew that she still had
  some time to think things over. It seemed odd to her to be part of a
  group when she had been alone for so long. Before long, another came
  to take the watch and Alcinia went into the cave for a little sleep.

  Alcinia

 After Myiona had left, Ariana stood staring at the sleeping child wrapped in
  blankets on the ground. She had never found herself so drawn to a child
  before- there had been none nearby when she was growing up, and very few in
  Tar Valon, except those brought to be Healed of some malady or other. And
  those were automatically classified as "patients" in her mind, not really
  something to form an emotional attachment to.
  Emotional attachment. A technical term, but Ariana decided quickly that
  there was no definite "Yellow" way to put the strange feeling she was
  experiencing, that she would drive herself to the limit to defend this child-
  and past it, if need be. It was strange.
  But speaking of limits, she realized yet again the effects of the past day or
  two were catching up to her. Long denied sleep was now reminding her of the
  horrific storm, the mountain trek, the overdosage of drugs, and the ensuing
  battle. When she suddenly sat down, it was only partly voluntary. Checking
  one last time on Skree, Ariana smiled and put her head down on her arms and
  slept. Emotional tangles could wait till she felt capable of handling them.

 Myiona stretched out on the had ground beside her bondmate. Luckily,
  someone had thought to bring extra blankets or she would have spent a cold
  night. As it was, she had a hard time getting comfortable. She tossed and
  turned until Mura'shar rolled over and wrapped his arms around her holding
  her still.
  As she drifted off to sleep, she thought of the other cave she had been
  in and the pictures on the wall. It was not surprising when she found
  herself here in her dreams. Once again she was standing looking at the
  scenes portrayed, but this time she was not alone. A woman appeared beside
  her and said, "At last a dreamer has come. Do you understand what you are
  seeing?"
  "No," Myiona answered truthfully. "What are these pictures and who drew
  them on this island?"
  "These were drawn long ago," the woman explained. "They tell the story
  of the breaking of the world. Once this island was home to a proud people.
  They sought to help others on another island. All were destroyed. This is a
  warning so none will forget the danger of the power unchecked by reason."
  "Things have changed in the world since this was drawn," she answered.
  "Once again male channelers are banding together. The island of madmen is
  affecting the outside world. The White Tower is broken. The return is at
  hand. The Dragon walks again. Can the world survive another breaking?"
  Myiona opened her eyes and sat up. Most of the others were still
  sleeping, but there were things to do before they left. She began organizing
  things for a quick meal before they left.
  Later, the group was once again moving. Ariana walked beside Skree and
  the two were talking quietly. They seemed to understand each other. Myiona
  walked beside her bondmate wondering what they would encounter next. A shout
  from up ahead caught her attention. They quickened their pace to find out
  what was happening now.
 

  Vicky
  aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
  Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 

  Sarenda had fought off the villagers' attack fairly easily; crude wooden
  spears had been no match for the sharpest of fine steel that was in her
  knives. After it was over, though, she found a bush and was quietly sick;
  she had never seen so much death in such a small time- or as awful as that of
  the channeler who had attacked Alan.
  Straightening, she saw Myiona and another small figure- the Healer, by the
  limp- talking to what appeared to be a child. She hoped it wasn't, or at
  least that there hadn't been children in the bunch that hadt been killed.
  She knew, or hoped, that she'd get over the deaths of the villagers,
  especially since they had attacked first, but if she had killed a child...
  She doubled over as her stomach heaved at the thought, but there was nothing
  left for it to bring up. When she straightened again, she went over to see
  what they were going to do about the... aftermath, and what, if any, plans
  had been made for the next few hours.
  The answer to the first came when she saw crews of Dragonsworn and Asha'man
  taking care of the battle's left overs. One less question to ask. She knew
  she should volunteer to help, but right now she thought she'd end up getting
  sick again. When she asked what the group's plans were, she was extremely
  glad of the answer. "Rest, at least for an hour or so. Then we'll move on."

  The "hour or two" stretched into the rest of the day- for which Sarenda was
  thankful. After that, all of them needed to rest, clean up, and deal with
  the corpses that littered the ground. But before she could rest, she had to
  know about the child. She sought out the Healer, and found her next to what
  appeared to be a young girl. Had there been children in that army, then?
  The Yellow was curled up- and asleep sitting down, Sarenda realized. She
  hated to wake the woman. Looking carefully, she did notice that the child
  seemed unharmed, so perhaps she hadn't been part of the fighting. Well,
  she'd ask Ariana tomorrow. Meanwhile, her example seemed a good one- but it
  might be better lying down. Sarenda went and obtained one of the spare
  blankets someone had thoughtfully brought. Bless her, she thought fervently-
  then, Or him. She found a tiny grove of trees and wrapped the blanket around
  her. Sleep did not take long.
  When she rose, some hours later, to the sound of people walking around and
  things being lifted, she found the makeshift camp was disbanding. Hurriedly
  she dashed behind a broad bush to change clothing, and gathered up her few
  belongings. As she caught up to the forming group, she ran her fingers
  through her hair, and realized the braid had almost come undone. Bother.
  Still, that could wait till they found whatever they sought. She followed
  along, watching to both sides of her, until a shout from ahead made her look
  up. She hastened her steps, wondering, Light, what now?

 
  Tareena wearily trudged behind Callabein, keeping her eyes focused on his
  back, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. For whatever
  reason, sleep had been elusive to her the last few days. Traveling at night,
  sleeping during the day and then reversing the process was taking it's toll.
  The group had moved from the rocky terrain of the cliff sides and had moved
  farther into the interior. The temperature had begun to rise, the farther
  away from the sea they went. The nights were still cold, but the days were
  not. Stumbling, she felt Darren reach out to steady her. Gratefully she
  gave him a smile and continued on.
  Suddenly a shout was heard from the front of the group. Tareena quickly
  schooled her face to show no emotion. Her first thought was oh know, not
  again! Thankfully she realized that the shout was not one of alarm.
  Brushing back the last layer of foliage she gasped in delight. Spread out
  before her was a beautiful vista, splendid in all it's glory. A waterfall
  cascaded down into a sparkling lake, sunlight dancing upon the water. She
  laughed out loud as some of the members jumped in, clothes and all. All she
  could think of was bathing and being clean. With a giggle, she pushed
  Callabein out of the way and ran to the edge, dropping the most important of
  her belongings on the ground. The water took her breath away with it's
  temperature but she reveled in it's purifying nature. She took the
  opportunity to splash several of her friends, escalating a small battle
  between men and women. Her fatigue caught up with her and regretfully she
  waded to the shore, grateful for the warmth of the sun.
  A fire was built and a hot meal prepared. Twilight found the group
  refreshed in body and in spirit. Several had taken naps, trying to adjust to
  the schedule of traveling, others had taken the opportunity the spend time
  alone or laugh in groups. Repacking her belongings, Tareena took her place
  and the group began to head out of the paradise.
  Nightfall brought about not only a change in temperature but a change in
  the general feel of the air. Strange sounds floated along the night, causing
  the hair on the backs of her arms to raise. Rubbing herself, she glanced to
  the right and the left, sensing the restlessness in the others and knowing
  that she was not alone in her thoughts. Tareena wanted to reach out to feel
  the source, the siren call of it's power beckoning. Stevan had issued strict
  orders that they were not to channel, regardless. The last battle fought
  with the villagers had ended in their favor but there was still the threat of
  mad channelers to be dealt with, if it were true. The group began a long
  trek uphill, slipping and sliding in the dew of the night. Tareena was
  hardpressed to keep up.
  A long howl rent the night, it's eerie haunting call soaring. For a mad
  moment, Tareena felt transported back in time, hearing the wail of the
  villagers. But no, this was not the same. Answering calls began to ring
  out, three, four, ten, twenty, the numbers kept growing. Uneasiness turned
  to barely suppressed fear as the group realized they had company that was not
  friendly.
  Out of the night they came, fangs dripping and death in their eyes. The
  group prepared to fight. Tareena danced her way around Darren, letting his
  flashing swords rend the air with death screams, harsh and guttural. She was
  not yet proficient enough to defend herself with conventional means, always
  depending upon channeling as her force. Tareena moved to the right, kicking
  a hound away that had not yet decided to let death take it but was twitching
  on the ground. She felt something knock into her from behind and turned
  swiftly, in doing so she lost her balance and began windmilling her arms to
  regain it. Almost succeeding, she put her left foot down into a hole and
  lost it, tumbling down the hill head over heels. She picked up speed as she
  fell, careening into the underbrush. It seemed like nothing would break her
  fall. She finally felt herself come to a momentary halt which was short
  lived. The limbs she had landed on could not support her weight and she felt
  herself falling once more, only this time it was a freefall, down a long
  black hole into nothing. The last thing she remembered was hissing, then
  blackness.

 Alcinia took advantage of the lake to clean herself and her clothing.
  She climbed up beside the waterfall and looked off into the distance.
  It seemed that the group would be traveling across a flat plain next.
  Alcinia thought it would be a good place to be ambushed, but she kept
  her thoughts to herself.
  After dark, they headed out again and were soon attacked by a type of
  wolf or dog. Alcinia hated to use her knives on the animals, but had
  no choice as they attacked with teeth and claws. Tears ran down her
  face each time she killed one.
  Suddenly, the animals stopped and sniffed the air. Skree, the young
  girl that had joined them, stepped out toward the animals. She walked
  toward them with her hands open. Alcinia shook her head, sure the
  child was as crazy as the rest of the people they had encountered.
  As she walked up to the wolves, they stopped fighting and turned to
  head back into the night. "What is going on?" Alcinia muttered. "Why
  did they leave?"
  Skree turned around and looked at them. "The dogs," she said, "thought
  that you had taken me against my will. They were only trying to rescue
  me. When I told them that you were my friends they left. Someone from
  the village must have told them I was with you because I have not
  spoken to the dogs since the battle."
  As the young girl walked away, Alcinia cleaned her knives on a piece of
  fabric and put them away. She knew that the group would probably look
  for a camp nearby and she volunteered to search for something suitable.

  Alcinia

 Mura'shar studied these new opponents. They looked like dogs -hounds,
  unless he missed his guess- but they were huge. Almost as big as wolves.
  And he could sense almost an intelligence in them. They moved as one. Packs
  worked together, but this was downright eerie.
  he hated to kill too many of these creatures. Chances are, they are
  simply hunting or food in a sparse area. So when the first of the dogs came
  at him, he simply shot a single burst of Fire at them.
  The lead dog yelped and fell back with a singed muzzle. More bursts of
  flame fell among the dogs, setting their fur on fire and blinding them. Some
  fell back in pain and confusion, but others replaced them.
  Most animals far fire. These did too, but not as much as most wild
  animals. Either they were domesticated, or this land has so much fire in it
  from channelers and volcanoes that they have grown used to it. In the end,
  it meant Mura'shar had to kill several dogs before they were convinced that
  he wasn't easy pray to be culled from this herd of humans.
  Wiping his blade on the pelt of one of the fallen dogs, he looked around.
  No one seemed badly hurt. Scree was talking to Alcinia. Something about
  talking to the dogs and they were trying to protect her. Maybe they weren't
  here for a meal after all.
  As Mura'shar and Myiona began dragging away the dog corpses, they heard
  Darren shout "Tareena!"
  They looked up, and saw Darren stalking into the night, searching for the
  Dragonsworn.
  Mura'shar and Myiona exchanged glances and followed, keeping an eye out
  for more dogs and trusting that the bond will lead Darren straight to his
  bondmate. They hadn't gone far when Darren crouched before a small hole, and
  called down "Tareena, are you okay?"
  All they heard was a groan amidst an odd hissing sound. It was too dark
  to tell if Tareena was down there. Mura'shar channeled, and sent a tiny ball
  of fire slowly down the pit.
  He didn't want to burn whoever was down there, so the flame wasn't very
  bright, but it did clearly show the Seanchan woman sprawled on the floor of a
  small cave. There was movement all around her, and over her. The sinewy
  figures looked like...
  Myiona gave a small shriek, which she quickly stifled. But she backed
  away from the opening. Mura'shar didn't need the bond or the light to know
  Myiona had a look of terror on her face. He recalled that Myiona was
  terrified of snakes, and Tareena was covered in them!

  Jake
  Marked Asha'man

 
  Crystinah sighed. ~I'm so tired. I could use a
  nice big nap. Not the few hours I get now. What is
  it with these people?~
  She shook her head and turned to look back towards
  the water. ~Now I'm not so certain,~ she thought, ~if
  I'd rather be on a boat or here~ She paused. ~The
  boat.~
  Then Crystinah heard one of the others say, "Look!"
  She looked ahead to see a very beautiful place, one
  like they hadn't seen for a while.
  Suddenly a couple of people ran past her.
  Crystinah shrugged. She might as well walk. It's not
  like it was going to disappear. That wouldn't be very
  logical . . . Who could move a whole lake?
  She laughed at herself then ran towards the water
  and jumped in. Crystinah giggled girlishly and joined
  in on a water fight.
  Soon she grew tired of the water and headed out to
  get her tent ready for the night. After that she
  changed into a new pair of clothes and went to get
  something to eat for dinner.
  Before long it was time to go to bed. "Of course,"
  Crystinah muttered to herself, "we'll be woke up as
  early as we usually are. I think we should either
  stop sooner or leave later." She smiled and crawled
  under her blankets.

  The next day they moved out. Crystinah had, of
  course, wished to stay there, in the . . . paradise as
  it was, but others had different ideas. Crystinah
  sighed. All they were ever doing was walking.
  Walking and fighting. It seemed that was all these
  men wanted to do.
  She followed behind Kano until they reached the
  place where they were going to stop. Once everything
  was ready and dinner was over, Crystinah retired to
  her tent. "I need more sleep," she said to herself.
  "Maybe I should just keep sleeping in the morning
  whatever they say?" She laughed and shook her head.
  "That would NEVER be allowed."
  A few moments after she fell asleep she was awoke
  by the howl of wolves. "Cut it out," she said, "I'm
  trying to sleep."
  Of course Crystinah had heard lots of dogs - or
  wolves - lately, but this time they kept getting
  closer and closer. Crystinah pulled the blanket over
  her head and covered her ears with her hands. "Can't
  I get any sleep around here!" she said and got up.
  She headed out to see what was the matter. But before
  she got to anyone, she was stopped by a big dog.
  "Nice puppy," she whispered sweetly. "Just go back
  into the woods . . ."
  She was stopped by his low growl. "EEK!" she
  screamed then stopped. "Would you like a treat? I've
  got some nice treats back in my tent." Couldn't they
  channel? Of course! She reached out for the source
  but almost felt herself slipping. ~I'm too tired,~
  she thought.
  The dog-wolf growled low in his throat.
  "Great," Crystinah said. "Now I'm going to be dog
  meat."
  The animal backed her up to a tree and moved
  towards her then stopped. He looked away for a
  moment, listening to the howls coming from the woods.
  Soon he turned back to look at her. He gave her a
  look as if saying, "Your lucky day," and took off.
  Crystinah watched as he ran out of sight then
  slowly fell to the ground. "That was a little too
  close," she said. "I think I'm staying behind on the
  next mission. With or without my bondmate . . . Hmm,
  thinking of it that way I think I would much rather
  stay without him . . . I need some quality time
  alone. I NEVER should have bonded, even though it was
  to save his life."
  As if thinking about him called him, he appeared.
  "Are you alright?" he asked.
  "You should be worried about yourself," Crystinah
  said and sniffed. "I can take care of myself."
  Crystinah stomped off leaving behind her very
  confused bondmate.
  She walked towards the others, who didn't seem to
  be injured very badly. The worst so far had been when
  a mad woman had tried to kill Talia and Alan. She
  shivered . . . What a horrible experience that had to
  be. Whatever happened to that woman?
  As she neared the group she saw the attention on a
  young girl. ~Poor child,~ she thought, ~having to
  grow up in a place like this.~ She frowned, ~I wonder
  whatever will happen to her when it is time to go back
  to the Black Tower?~
  Crystinah shot the girl a sympathetic smile and
  walked to her tent. She REALLY needed some sleep
  before the night was over.

  Karen
  aka Crystinah

 
  After making good use of the lake to wash both hair and clothes, Ariana
  climbed reluctantly out of the water and went to go find some sort of towel.
  While the air might be warm now, come nightfall she knew it would get
  uncomfortably cold. While she was employing one of the spare blankets for
  the purpose, Skree ran up, laughing and dripping all over, barefoot and
  grinning. She laughed at Ariana's improvised towel. "Freeze, then, "
  Ariana laughed back, "You think it's warm now, but it'll get cold soon
  enough." At that Skree finally settled down and quit dancing in circles
  around her. Her expression grew thoughtful, then she politely asked where
  the blankets were. "Back there, next to that lumpy-looking tree." It was an
  odd plant; the trunk seemed perfectly smooth, not like bark, but there were
  strange contusions that swelled like fever blisters on the trunk. The plant
  looked healthy, but Ariana couldn't see any purpose to the bumps. The girl
  dashed over, then slowed to a walk as she approached the tree. When she came
  back, wrapped in a blanket, she smiled at Ariana and asked, "Can you run?"
  Ariana blinked. Unusual question. "Barely," she answered wryly. "Why?"
  Not answering, she grabbed Ariana's hand and pulled her toward the tree as
  fast as she could go, towing the startled Dragonsworn with her. "Come on!"
  Ariana limped behind as fast as she could, and when they seemed almost about
  to run into the tree- Skree swerved around it, whacking it solidly with one
  fist as she passed it. To Ariana's shock, one of the lumps swelled
  immediately- and burst, filling the air with a sparkling red powder. The
  girl laughed as it showered down around them. "Laom tree," she said
  proudly. Ariana regarded the mischief-maker with amusement, red sparkly
  confetti falling off of her hair and clothing. "I see." She smiled. "Next
  time, warn me! Now I'll have to take another bath!" She let the girl tow
  her toward the waterfall again, where Ariana insisted on climbing partly up
  the waterfall, then diving in. Skree had apparently never seen diving
  before, and was suitably impressed by the small splash Ariana made as she
  entered the water like a red-haired spear, trailing red sparkles behind her.
  Later in the evening, it did get as cold as she had predicted- and more. To
  Ariana- and, she suspected, the others- it got gloomier and
  somehow...expectant. She was almost unsurprised by the increasing howls, and
  when the huge hounds appeared, Ariana felt she was nearly prepared for them.
  What she wasn't prepared for, though, was Skree's reaction. She ran toward
  the largest of the wolves/hounds and threw her arms around its neck. She
  beckoned to Ariana, who followed in shock. Elsewhere she could hear the
  Tower's members defending themselves; why then did these not attack? She
  asked as much, and the girl released the dog and spoke. "These are... my
  mother's guard dogs. She died, they were thrown out of the village, so
  others could have her house. Now they have formed a pack- but the others
  aren't tame, they were picked up by the lead dog." She looked at Ariana
  worriedly. "Tell the others if you can not to kill the ones with blue eyes,
  they will not attack unless a person attacks them." Then she turned and ran,
  to spread the message that only some of these fearsome beasts were harmful-
  and the others might actually defend the Tower people, if allowed. Ariana
  stared after her, amazed. The child darted fearlesly among the huge animals,
  occasionally knocking one off her good-naturedly when it jumped up- and
  kicking hard at those that weren't "her" dogs. Ariana put her back to a tree
  (one without strange bumps), and prepared to defend herself from slavering
  wolfhounds- but only the brown-eyed ones.
  In the distance, she could see a small figure stopping first here, then
  there, spreading the word that the pack was divided. Ariana hoped for her
  sake that the girl's dogs didn't decide to attack with the others; she seemed
  to value the dogs- and Ariana herself had to admit that they would be good
  protection for the group, if they could be separated from the wild ones.
  Surely having the child with them could keep the tame ones from attacking?
  After all, they had certainly not threatened Ariana when the girl was with
  her. She kept track of hte girl as much as she could, but meanwhile,
  brown-eyed hounds were eying her as though she looked appetizing. "I think
  not!" she told them, and swung a tree limb towards them. It impacted one on
  the chest, an he? it? she? whumphed as the air was smacked out of its lungs.
  The others cringed back, and Ariana embraced saidar to create a ring of flame
  around her. Hopefully they feared fire... one, besid the one she'd hit,
  leaped the barrier, but it was at a disadvantage alone and confined. The
  others left, and Ariana found no more challenged her. Perhaps they feared
  the water of the lake she stood by more than the fire she called. When it
  seemed over, she went to see if Skree had survived, or any of her dogs. She
  found the girl with five blue-eyed dogs resting under a tree. She was
  standing by them and soothing them with words. Ariana waved at her, then
  turned when she heard a muffled shriek coming from a group huddled around a
  hole in the ground. Light, what's happened?

  Okie-dokie, skree gets to prove her usefulness here- guard dogs to order!
  Now, if only they could kill snakes from a distance...

 Myiona gazed down into the pit.  She wondered if Tareena was injured and
    considered having Mura'shar lower her down to check on her friend.  One look
    convinced her that it was not a good idea.
    Snakes were crawling all over Tareena and around her.  There were snakes of all
    sizes and a few that were brightly colored.  Myiona shrieked and backed away
    quickly.
        Myiona could feel her own heart pounding and was glad that Tareena was
    unconscious.  She did not know how Tareena felt about snakes, but most women
    were terrified of the slimy things.  She shuddered and closed her eyes, hoping
    that someone would do something to resolve the horrible situation Tareena found
    herself in.
        She wanted to kick Darren for not acting quickly, but there seemed to be
    some concern about getting down to Tareena.  The pit was narrow at the top and
    Darren was larger than the hole.  Myiona looked around frantically wondering if
    one of the other Asha'men would come to Tareena's aid.

Vicky
    aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
    Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 Rengar had never felt this bad before in his entire life. He must have
  vomited on at least three separate occasions at this point, and from the what
  his stomach was feeling like at the moment it seemed that he was getting ready
  for number four...
  "Rengar, are you all right? You don't look that well, from looking at you
  now," Odessa said, coming up beside him on the starboard side of the boat they
  were now taking to the Land of Madmen, or wherever it was that they were
  going. At this point, Rengar did not think he even remembered his own
  mother's name; that was the extent of sea sickness at the moment.
  "Why are we going this is Light-forsaken place, anyhow?" Rengar asked her in
  a sudden pang of anger, the nausea he was feeling at the moment not helping
  him to subdue doubts that he had possessed ever since Stevan had first decided
  that they were to go to this Land of Madmen. And thinking about that led
  Rengar into thinking about things that had happened earlier, and he realized
  now that when he had first heard about this mission that he had had to idea
  what he was getting himself into...
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------
  It didn't take Rengar long to realize that they were leaving on another
  mission soon. After he had danced the night a way with a good number of women
  whose faces, for some strange reason, he couldn't seem to remember.
  I wonder if there was anyone in the Black Tower that didn't drink to some
  extent last night, Rengar thought to himself as he was preparing his things
  for the journey he knew was coming, sooner or later. Then again, I didn't see
  Xyranthes there, either. But no one has seen him much this past month or so,
  or at least ever since we got back from the Blight.
  Besides the dance, not much had happened during the brief period they had
  spent on "vacation", if it could be called that. For Rengar, sometimes time
  in the Black Tower seemed almost as bad as the missions themselves, since he
  was constantly pushing himself harder in his training, trying to make himself
  a better weapon for the Lord Dragon's use. Also, the fact that he was
  constantly trying to impress Odessa with his skill also served as
  motivation...
  Odessa seemed the one bright spot in his life now, ever since the fight with
  Kano. They had formally apologized at the request of their respective
  Warderesses, but Rengar knew that it would take some time for the wounds that
  had been opened from that unfortunate incident to heal over completely. To
  make matters worse, of course, he had lost his position because of that fight,
  just like he had lost Odessa's love. Oh, they were still close friends, and
  occasionally she would give him a kiss or a hug at certain opportune times.
  But Rengar knew that they would never feel the same way that they had back in
  the Jangai Pass, where they had...Well, it was his fault. He had screwed up
  one time to many, and he was paying for it now.
  Look at you, man! About to cry because you can't have intimate relations
  with a woman! How many woman have you-Rengar actually had to stop himself
  from delving into that delicate subject, and as he stuffed the final item onto
  his blanket he folded it up and tied it, and swung it over his shoulder.
  Making his way towards the door he stopped, turning around and taking a good
  last look at his room before he left for the practice yards where Odessa had
  said the others would be gathering. It was somewhat of a ritual for him to do
  this before leaving for a mission; since he might very well never see his
  second home again, should some unforeseen fate befall him.
  "Might as well get Rinoa ready now, unless I want to walk when I'm in
  Tremalking," Rengar told himself aloud, without realizing it. Light, one of
  these days I'm going to wake up and find that my sanity has left me, like a
  lot of the women I've been with seem to do in the morning.
  Rengar made his way to the stables quickly, finding his horse enjoying life
  in her new stall, with fresh hay sprinkling the ground and a trough of crystal
  clear water sparkling with the rays of sun that came in through small cracks
  in the ceiling. Unfortunately, it seemed that Rinoa was enjoying this
  comfortable life a bit to much, and was reluctant to come out of her stall.
  To say the least.
  It was only after a good ten minutes of smooth talking and gradual pulling
  that Rengar was finally able to get the relatively large horse out of the
  stable entirely, and towards where the others had now gathered. By the large
  number of people that were already assembled, it seemed as though Rengar was a
  little late. But at the time Stevan was still ordering his instructions, and
  then a Gateway was opened, with each person filing through the Power created
  portal one at a time. Rengar, being late to arrive to begin with, was also
  the last in line, and as he watched the people in front of him enter the
  Gateway he could not help but...notice all of the people whose faces' seemed
  to have turned the color of the sea this morning. But what surprised Rengar
  was that there seemed to be more women with this discoloration then men,
  though Myiona seemed fine as she handed him a small package before he entered
  the Gateway. From the way it felt in his hands Rengar assumed that the parcel
  contained food, though he couldn't be to sure. On a mission like this, it
  could always be something you didn't expect it to be.
  A warm breeze passed over his face as he passed through the Gateway, reaching
  the other side and seeing the others gathered in a way similar to before.
  Unfortunately, Rengar only caught the names of various people being called
  out, and when he didn't hear his name as one of those mentioned, he felt of
  sudden pang of sadness.
  They forgot about me? Rengar wondered to himself as he watched the others
  begin to assemble in the little groups that they had been assigned to by
  Stevan and Alan. Rengar's spirits were lifted slightly as he sighted Odessa
  and a few others who seemed to be left out as well. Perhaps Stevan wants us
  to form our own separate group? Rengar thought, his pride getting the better
  of him as he tried to come to grips with the situation. First I'm demoted,
  and now this!
  "So, what are we to do now? Alone, with no apparent reason for being here at
  all?" Odessa asked, her green eyes gazing into his, as if he himself was the
  answer to her poignant question.
  "We move," Rengar stated with a simpleness that was unlike him, especially
  since he liked to impress his bondmate with a style of flowery language all
  his own. Then again, he doubted that she paid much attention to that babble
  in the first place. Only he did.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------
  "Portal stones? I'm sorry, my lady, but I'm afraid that the heat has been
  cooking the brain that sits inside that pretty little head of yours," Rengar
  said to a relatively old woman who had been ranting, according to the
  innkeeper, for a good number of hours before he had entered the Treasure
  Island Inn; something about seeing strange, powerful creatures coming out of
  what Rengar assumed was, from her description of the object, a Portal Stone.
  But Rengar did not believe a shred of it, and had quickly begun trying to calm
  the woman down after a few seconds of her rapid narrative.
  In his younger days, Rengar would have tried to discover if there really was
  any "treasure" to be found in a place like this, as the title suggested, but
  with Odessa having accompanied him to this small inn in an equally small town
  named Raditz, he was doing his best to keep his eyes from...wandering to and
  fro across the room.
  For now, however, he was content to merely walk towards the exit, only to be
  confronted by a sight that he had certainly not expected to see. Not in a few
  days, at least.
  Standing outside were Janara and La'rece both! I obviously didn't separate
  from the others after all, Rengar realized, moving out of the doorway now at
  the behest of a rather impatient man, having stood there for a good few second
  staring at the two Dragonsworn. Well, if those two are here, then the others
  cannot be far away, can they?
  "What is it, Rengar. What do you see?" Odessa asked, and from the widening
  of her emerald eyes Rengar could tell immediately that she also saw their
  fellow Tower members standing in the streets. "Or should I say who?"
  "I think we should go to the harbor now," Rengar told his Warderess, taking
  the first steps towards the destination he had just designated. "And I'll bet
  you ten Andoran crowns that we'll find a ships there rented out to a certain
  group of channelers..."
  "Well, that's an offer that I simply cannot refuse, is it?" Odessa asked with
  one of her trademark grins. Oh, how I wish I could see her like this more
  often. To see her, period. "You're on, my dear friend. I would get your
  money pouch out right now and start counting, because soon that pouch is going
  to be lighter by ten Andoran crowns."
  Rengar returned with a grin himself before turning his attention towards
  making it to the harbor as quickly as he could. There just has to be
  something there! But why...why am I thinking that? We came here via a
  Power-created Gateway, not by ship, and even if we had, why would it be in
  this harbor, so far away from where we initially arrived in this land.
  Suddenly Rengar realized that might very well be losing something more
  important than the ten Andoran crowns that he had gambled with: his sanity.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------
  Rengar had been proven right, however, and after collecting his wager from a
  very displeased Odessa he made his way back on deck, where he saw an elderly
  woman groaning and sweating with about five Dragonsworn around her.
  I wonder what they're doing with that woman? Well, it's not my business to
  begin with, and it can't be to important, or else I would have been told by
  now, Rengar thought to himself, walking past the woman and her caretakers,
  making his way to the starboard side of the boat. Well, it seems as though no
  one has been able to find any real clue as to what is causing this sickness
  among the Dragonsworn...I hope we're not wasting our time here, especially
  when there are so many other things we could be doing.
  Just then the men down on the docks began to loosen the ropes from they're
  moors, and the boat began to move into the sea at a slow pace, water hitting
  the sides of the boat and lifting spray up high enough for Rengar to feel and
  taste it. Cold and salty, just like the sea is supposed to be, Rengar
  thought to himself, deciding to find out later why they were moving out now.
  At that moment the only thing on his mind, strangely, was the warnings that
  the woman had given him at the inn, about the creatures borne out of the
  dormant Portal Stones. Surely she must have been seeing things...
  Just then, he heard another voice from behind, and he knew before turning
  around that it was...
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  -------------------------------------------
  I apologize for my absence on the RPing front, but I was swept up in the
  onslaught of RPs that were filling my mailbox on a daily basis. Back in April
  I had a schedule that made it easier to deal with that sort of thing
  happening, but now it is a bit harder...This was left to have an opening for
  Jen to hop into the RP, if she chooses, and the part about the portal stones
  concerns an outline that I have for an RP. I wrote it some time ago, back
  when Tav asked me to do a S&D RP outline, but I'm sure that it can be modified
  for today's standard. Hopefully you can consider my idea after this RP is
  over, Steve, if you chose.
  Kyle

 It took a while for Talia to recover from the incident with the madwoman.
  Waking to the deafening howling, she jerked upright with a gasp. The
  feeling of.. someone else.. in her mind came as a shock at first.. until she
  remembered what had happened before she passed out. Chuckling to herself
  for being so surprised, she stood. The feeling was new and strange, but
  strangely exhiliarating. Talia stood to find wolves around .. but they
  were suddenly at bay.. Talia would have thought more of it... but then she
  saw Alan. She had known where he was in respect to her position the whole
  time. She found that pecularly amusing in some odd way. Approaching the
  man, she saw him look at her, most likely knowing she was coming toward him.

  "Hi.." She looked over the landscape to see the dogs had receded the
  attack. "Looks like you were having fun without me.." She chuckled and
  gazed back at him.. noticing the echoing feeling through the bond.. She had
  never really thought a bond would do something like this.. but she somehow
  knew she was sensing his feelings.. his emotions.. The way his heart echoed
  her own as it fluttered at seeing each other. Talia paused right in front
  of him for just a moment.. Looking into his eyes as if they had some
  hypnotic pull. She was about to kiss him when suddenly she heard
  something.. Whipping her head about, she saw Myiona, Darren, and Murashar..
  upset.. She approached them.. leaving Alan with a bit of a sense of..
  disappointment. Talia smirked and looked back at him, waving him to follow
  her.

  Talia peered down into the crevice to see Tareena.. and snakes. Now,
  snakes don't bother Talia like it did other women. Nothing really bothered
  Talia. She was an adventurer. And she seemed to be jumping into one after
  the other lately. She looked down there again, looked at the others, and
  then nodded resolutely. "I think I can reach her.."

  ~~~~~~~
  OOC: Again, finals have warped my mind some.. so, if any of this does not
  comply, please just respond with adaptations for correctness. I think
  Calculus has fried my brain. I hope I read those posts right.. and I hope
  that Myiona and them are with the others *L*

  Talia Daimar
  Dragonsworn
  aka TTT or Miya
  <><

 
  La'rece sighed as Janara applied the cool damp cloth to her forehead. The
  stabbing pain that had shot through her skull when she embraced Saidar had
  caused her to collapse. *Wolves?! and now, snakes!* the Green sighed heavily,
  *why did it have to be snakes?* Well, it appeared that Talia and the others
  were working on getting Tareena out of whatever pit or cave she had fallen into.
  Pushing Janara's hand away, La'rece tried to sit up, but sat back again
  wincing. *Oh, Light! If it continues to hurt like this, I may never channel
  again ... ow!*

  "I told you to take it easy, La'rece" Janara said in a reproving tone.

  "...take it...easy ..." La'rece muttered. "We've been attacked by these
  maniacs, wolves and now ..." the Green waved her a hand towards the group
  huddled around the opening in the ground where Tareena continued to implore
  someone to help her, "...now, we have snakes!"

  "It's under control, La'rece. Besides we've all been in worse situations than
  this ... right? You're just being ... touchy ... because of the headaches and
  being unable to channel ..."

  "I can channel!" La'rece fumed. "It just ... hurts."

  "As I was saying, being unable to channel because it hurts ... a lot." Janara
  put on a stern expression. "Stop sulking. You look like a novice given chores on
  a feastday."

  "I'm not sulking" La'rece responded. Janara arched an eyebrow causing La'rece
  to grind her teeth. "Frankly, I don't get it. What is the big attraction with
  the southlands? It's hot, it's humid, my hair is frizzing, the people are ...
  well, crazy, but I guess we knew that before ..."

  "What's this? Our La'rece isn't up for a bit of adventure?" Janara's light
  laugh made La'rece grind her teeth once more. "La'rece, don't worry. You'll
  get past the headaches. We've already discussed this; the most logical
  explanation is that the use of two angreals in the same weave that were similar
  caused some sort of rippled backlash. Count your blessings, more than one Aes
  Sedai has been burned out doing much the same. The browns have it all
  documented ..."

  As Janara went on La'rece sighed. She didn't blame Janara; she was right.
  Feeling sorry for herself wasn't going to get it done, and it certainly didn't
  make her of any use to the rest of the group. Turning her gaze over to the
  group, La'rece watched as Talia began her descent into the hole. *Now, that's my
  kind of Dragonsworn...*

  Lauren
  La'rece Barata'gan, Bondmate to Ivan and Janara
  Dragonsworn, Marked, Blademaster

 Tareena drifted in a haze of pain, aware that all was not as it should be
  but unaware as to the reason. Strange sounds buffeted her, hisses, clicks,
  and others which were indistinguishable. She called out in her dreams,
  wanting these feelings to go away, wanting the sunshine that waited on the
  other side of the haze. Thoughts and emotions swirled. She could see
  visions of her mother and father, hear her mother soothing her, calling to
  her. Her father's calm presence pervaded the distance. She could see her
  sister's face in the fog that enveloped her. Oddly, she felt herself begin to
  float and to reach out towards these familiar faces she had not seen in
  years. It would be so easy, so right to go to them, peace and
  tranquility..to start over...yes...here I go...I am coming momma...papa I am
  home.
  Suddenly fiery pain delved into her body once more, moaning she thrashed
  out at the unseen assailant, wanting to not hurt anymore. Whimpering she
  felt pierced again and again, deep agonizing. The faces in the fog changed.
  Her mother's soft soothing voice became a cackle, rasping on the fringes of
  sanity. She looked to see her father's face, frozen in pain, blood running
  in rivulets down his face. Her sister screaming, pleading, tearing at the
  collar around her throat. Tareena wailed and cried, her flesh melting around
  her, screams stabbing the heart of her existence. She wanted she wanted she
  wanted she wanted.
  Coldness wrapped itself around her, bringing instant relief from the
  searing heat within her veins. Actions, voices carried to her consciousness.
  She knew she should do something, call someone, she knew she needed
  to....She felt herself being lifted. Is this the end? Does the light seem
  so bright to me, hitting the backs of my eyelids because the creator is not
  ready for me to see his face. Will the pain end?
  Icy shards bit into her, she screamed once more and was gone, into the
  oblivion, the emptiness welling in her once more.
  Tareena opened her eyes. Sunlight poured through the trees, bathing the
  small clearing in it's light. She gently moved her head looking around. She
  saw familiar faces staring at her, anxiously awaiting her every move.
  "Mama?" she questioned, wondering where she had found herself.
  "No Tareena, it's not your mother, it's Myiona. I am here, all your
  friends are here and we want you to get well. Rest easy child, we are here."
  Looking around, Tareena knew this to be true. She reached her hand towards
  her bondmate, feeling him inside her.
  Peace crept into her once more and, as any child would who felt secure,
  she slept.

 Odessa gazed unblinking out over the clear gray-blue of the ocean, trying her
  best to block out Rengar's latest bout of retching. She had never seen a man
  sick up so much. She wouldn't have been surprised to see dinner from three
  weeks ago. The Dragonsworn chuckled. He would definitely not appreciate the
  thought of food. Idly she ran her hand over the broad oaken rail, her mind
  turning over the past weeks. From the beginning of this venture, she, Rengar
  and a few select others seemed to have been forgotten. Not that she minded
  terribly, but she wasn't used to feeling so… useless. She glanced over her
  shoulder, watching the others standing silently, arguing over plans, and
  laughing. She had kept to the mainly in the background so far, content to
  follow Rengar and give him her advice. However, she knew she would be needed in
  the near future, for she knew what was coming, even if the other's didn't.
  'Light, I wish I didn't know.' She thought to herself
  Now, here they all were, moving on towards the Land of Madmen. The place
  where once she had traveled, with Ivan, Tor, Rylliana, Mykayla, and Galen, her
  warder, as an emissary for Salidar, before the Mark had her forcibly removed.
  She shuddered at the thought of that doomed place. The sad island was no place
  for them, any of them, be they male channelers or not. Grimly, Odessa recalled
  her imprisonment, the fierce ravaging only her two former sisters knew of, and
  subsequent release at the hands of Tor. In many ways she missed the tall silent
  man, whom she had known for so long. Sighing quietly, she turned towards the
  main mast, contemplating why she hadn't begged out of this latest mission.
  Fear tore through her, terror at the chance of again meeting Magilin, he of
  the scared face. But, the Dominai was Aes Sedai, and could still her face as
  good as any. Soon, however, she knew Rengar would sense it through their bond.
  But could she tell him the truth? It was impossible to tell him what had
  transpired in that awful dungeon. The Dominai's dread of seeing Magilin again,
  was vastly overshadowed by that of losing Rengar. No, the truth would remain
  hers, unless something went drastically wrong. Shaking her head, her green eyes
  turned back to stare unseeing off the bow.
  The small woman stood thus until she sensed that Rengar had finished with this
  round of illness. The unwell Asha'Man stood bent over, his elbows propped on
  the rail, his head in his hands. Odessa stepped quietly up behind him, placing
  a cool hand on the back of his neck. "Rengar, are you sure you are well enough
  to be up here?" She asked, tilting her head low enough to see the bottoms of
  his hands. He turned his head her direction enough to peek at her with a
  portion of one eye.
  "No, Odessa, I don't think I am. But if I go below, I'll just have to run
  back up here in a few minutes. It's better for everyone to stay right here."
  He groaned and turned his face back into his hands. Shaking her head, she
  silently channeled small weaves, her hand moving in slow circles on his neck.
  She knew he was feeling better, when his muscles began to relax, and he
  straitened up. She removed her hand, not really wanting to, just that small
  touch enough to still her fears.
  "Better?" He nodded. "I'm glad. Rengar, do you know why we are going to
  the…" She couldn't say it, "place where we are going?"
  He shrugged, putting an arm around her waist. Mentally the Blue kicked
  herself, but she knew she could only hide her dread from him for so long. "I've
  no idea, Odessa. I have a feeling we are just along for the ride. That's what
  worries me."
  "I just know that I have no desire to return the, Rengar. It is an evil
  place, only overshadowed by the Dark One himself." He looked sharply at her,
  his surprise showing only in the tightening around his eyes. "I was there once,
  long ago, with men and women you know. Much happened on that terrible isle,
  much I wish I couldn't remember." He opened his mouth to ask, but she silenced
  him with a finger to his lips. "Someday I may tell you, but until that day,
  please do not ask that of me."
  "If you wish." He moved behind her, loosely holding her with both arms.
  Finally beginning to relax, Odessa lay her head back onto his shoulder. What
  could have been hours or minutes later, a dark smudge stained the horizon. "The
  Land of Madmen," Rengar breathed. Odessa tensed. "We should be the by dawn."
  The petite Dragonsworn pressed herself closer to her bondmate, trying in vain to
  control the shudder that passed through her.
  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Sorry for using an old list, but it seems I was taken off of the new one, so I
  am using an old one until I am put on the new one. Anyhow, I know it has been a
  while since I have written an RP, but I have been busier than a single mother
  with twelve children. What with work and the holidays and my sojourn to Utah
  (yuck) and everything, I haven't had time to do anything. But I am back on
  track now, and you shall be hearing more from me. K-

  Jen~
  Odessa Jennar

 

  Stevan woke to see the sun setting in a blaze of red, creating fiery rainbows
  against the purple sky. It was strange to be sleeping during the day, but
  travelling at night was safer, and the land looked eerily beautiful by
  starlight.

  Getting up and walking around the camp he saw Tareena laughing and joking as
  she talked with her bondmate. Obviously a day's rest had healed her
  completely from her ordeal in the snake pit.

  After they had packed up their equipment they continued the long trek to the
  south-west. Strange sounds haunted the night, and many a time he felt Andraia
  clutch at him in fear, then immediately let go and pretend nothing had
  happened. Light, was it a sin for that woman to show any emotion? At times
  like that, he couldn't even feel any emotion through the bond either.

  As they topped a rise, suddenly the land before them was illuminated by the
  full moon. Before them was a vast forest, the tops of the trees silver from
  the moon, below that, darkness. It looked to be a plain, coloured mottled
  silver. Even those colours varied as the moon went in and out of clouds, and
  the leaves of the trees swayed back and forth. Then behind him he heard a
  mutter, coming from someone who was in complete adoration of the beauty they
  were beholding. "Lenaria!"

  He turned to see the child, her eyes wide open and her mouth gaping. He
  looked at her in puzzlement, and her gaze met his. Realising he needed an
  explaination, she spoke. "This forest I have heard much about. It is
  beautiful. But you must beware of it also. The people and animals inside are
  different to those in the rest of this land."

  Sighing, he stepped forwards down the slope. What else could this land bring?

  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  -----------------------------------------

  Sorry this RP was pathetic...go through the forest and see what you discover!
  Don't go out of it until I say so though.
 
 

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

 
  Alan looked around in amazement. He had never seen a forest like
  this, in all his years of travel. Glancing over at Talia they shared a
  single moment before they headed off into the beautiful vegetation. They
  took a different route than the others. Walking through the trees was
  easier than previously thought. There was no fauna on the ground, the only
  thing this forest was made up of were these awesome trees. Huge avenues had
  been made by the trees, letting Alan and Talia walk unmolested through their
  inner darkness. The young Ashaman started to notice things during this odd
  journey. Trees were in alignment to each other, and they all had a certain
  amount of space between them. Almost like someone had planted these
  behemoths. Studying the trees, Alan did not stop when Talia did, instead
  she had to reach out and grab him. Wondering what was wrong, Alan started
  to ask a question, when her stare stopped his lips from forming the words.
  Instead she pointed to their right. There was a trail, a little pathway,
  between the trees. It was well worn and obviously had been used recently.
  Drawing his sword and dagger Alan preceded down the path. Talia muttered
  something about, "Foolish men" and drew two daggers before setting off after
  the ashaman. Walking down the little trail Alan could almost feel the
  civilization. The calm of the trees and peace of the trees was being offset
  by something else, man. THe two members of the Black Tower crested a rise
  and found a small village sprawled out in front of them. Sheathing his
  sword and dagger, Alan sat there for a moment contemplating what to do.
  Talia decided to take the initative and walked towards the village as
  stately as any queen. Following her, resigned to his own fate, Alan
  wondered what she had in mind to do. It seemed to Alan that she picked a
  house at random but she just walked in. Alan followed, looking behind to
  make sure no one else saw them enter the house. Once inside the house the
  two were confronted by an old man, sitting at a desk look straight at them.
  His eyes were almost silver, and they sparkled like mad in the dimness of
  the small cottage. His face was lined with wrinkles but held an air of
  vitality that promised quick action. He gestured towards the two chairs in
  front of him, and without even glancing at eachother, Alan and Talia sat
  down.
  "Would you like some tea? You have walked a long way, a lot farther
  than either of you know." Talia accepted the mans offer, while Alan did
  not, he hated tea. Small talk issued from there on, talking about the
  weather and other useless things until the old man said, "So Alan al Daren
  and Talia Daimar, how do things fare in your part of the world. I see you
  are here looking for the volcano...well here are instructions to it." A
  thin roll of parchment appeared on the desk. Alan took it and put it in his
  pouch, he would not realize the parchment had not been on the desk a moment
  before he took it until after they left this little village and this
  mysterious man.
  "Now that you have what you came for, you may leave. And by the way
  tell Xyranthes i said hello." With that statement Alan and Talia left.
  Alan had never been issued a dismissal that strong, ever. A man who wielded
  the power of life and death indiscriminately, was basically just thrown out
  of a cottage by an old man.
  The two walked back to the main group, without saying a word to
  eachother. Both were wondering how the man knew their names and their
  mission. Questions to be answered for later. As soon as they reached the
  main encampment they split with a simple farewell, Talia went to the
  Dragonsworn tents to check on Tareena, and Alan headed straight for Steven
  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  Here it is, i am going home on break on tuesday so i dont know how active i
  will be there so, do with Alan as you will :) check ya later
  Joe

 
  This land was simply insane, down to the very bowels of it. Xyranthes shook
  his head in frustration. Trudging along with the rest of the group, the
  elderly Cairheinian began to mutter to himself.
  "Next thing you know a white rabbit with a waistcoat and a pocket watch will
  ask me to have a tea party on the ceiling." The old man grumbled beneath his
  breath, and then paused, wondering what a pocket watch was. Confused,
  Xyranthes looked up, and beheld a most beautiful sight. Nestled between the
  deep purple of two massive peaks, a small valley, filled with trees lay
  before them all. The massive pine trees where bathed in the silver light of
  the moon, creating a sea of silver, swaying with the wind. From somewhere the
  hoot of a great owl echoed through the land. The fragrance of pine and
  hemlock, tinged with apple, filled the land. For a moment, pure beauty and
  wonder ruled supreme, and then was broken, as the travel weary soldiers moved
  on into the wooded valley.

  Peter
  <><

 
  Ariana stopped dead when the gleaming forest came into sight. "Oh. Wow. "
  she managed, soft-voiced with amazement. Only when she was passed by several
  of the Tower members did she realize that she had stopped, and hastily
  started again. Surely she had never seen anything like this before! Idly
  she wondered how a grove of these would look back at the Tower; she would bet
  all the gold she posessed that no one had ever seen such trees there.
  Avendesora could not look so glorious. At sunset, like this, we could
  probably get away with charging admission just to see them!
  As the group descended into the trees, though, Ariana noted a strange
  symmetry about them; they seemed to be planted in exact rows, evenly spaced.
  Like roses in a formal garden, actually. The arrangement seemed unnatural. C
  reepy. What could be responsible for this odd forest? She went to find
  their guide, as it were.
  Skree would or could not tell her much. "This forest I have heard much
  about. It is beautiful. But you must beware of it also. The people and
  animals inside are different to those in the rest of this land." So warned,
  Ariana decided to wait before going off, and decided that the girl should
  probably accompany her when she did. After all, she knew the most about this
  land- as her practical joke with the...Laom?... tree had proved. For now,
  she went just far enough to find a stream and get a drink- and sit and watch
  the sunset fade to velvet black and brilliant stars.
  When they moved on again, travelling by night, Ariana took time before the
  mass exodus to find a decent staff. She did not want to have to defend
  herself by channeling if she didn't have to; they weren't supposed to
  channel, and besides, she had no idea what kind of condition she would be in
  when and if she encountered a situation. Besides, the wood of these trees
  was lightweight, and didn't weigh much to carry.
  Idly she wondered how old the strange trees were. They were all
  approximately the same height, give or take a normal difference, and all
  appeared healthy, besides having that odd silvery color on the leaves. They
  were real, it seemed, though. Here and there, branches and dead leaves, all
  silvery tone gone except in the veins, were scattered on the ground, and
  sometimes dead branches like her own. Once or twice they passed a dead tree,
  lying athwart the path, and a gap towered where once the tree had.
  There were the usual animal noises, too. She heard an owl- at least, she
  thought it was an owl- hoot repeatedly, and many other small cries that
  resembled those of birds. Still, it was certainly no bird that she saw
  later, swinging from tree to tree over the path with a prehensile tail and
  hands on its feet. She nearly laughed when she saw it; it looked like a band
  of hairy little men. The lead one chattered at her, then dissapeared into
  another tree. Suddenly Ariana grew thoughtful; she hadthought the creature
  looked familiar. One of the White Tower's collection of angreal and
  ter'angreal had had a woman holding a... one of those things. Odd. Had the
  maker been here- or rather, where the Land of Madmen now was?
  Other strange things occasionally showed themselves, too. A four-foot-tall,
  leathery creature with a brightly-colored hide and red eyes over a toothy,
  beak-like snout came to run beside them for a few yards, before the shinggg
  of drawn steel made it veer away. It had run on two long back legs, Ariana
  noticed, while its riddiculously small forelegs were held clutched to its
  prominent chest. The long tail had been held out straight behind it, seeming
  to act as balance. The only thing that had been frightening had been its
  claws. Fore and hind feet had been equipped with four-inch curved claws.
  It seemed there were enough strange things here to keep the curious
  Dragonsworn satisfied for a lifetime and more- but for one thing. Somehow
  they had to find out what could possibly stot the problem on Tremalking.
  Otherwise, she wouldn't be able to call herself a Healer, if she ignored the
  needs of others in order to please herself.

  yay, fun creature time! Yes, it's a monkey, followed by an ornithomimus.
  Dinotopia influence- and the memory of that ter'angreal/angreal thing.
  (didn't remember which.)
  I'll try to get more creative later, maybe make up one of my own...or
  two...or three...

 
  This was undoubtedly one of the weirdest places Talia had ever been. The
  trees were so neatly rowed as if to give the impression of.. control. Talia
  shivered inwardly at the spectacle as she and Alan went forth into the
  forest, exploring as many parties of the group were doing. Were the trees
  planted? That was a question on her mind. As her eyes scanned the area in
  which they were headed, something caught her attention. A pathway?
  Obviously worn with much use, the 'road' led down one way. Stopping both
  herself and the wandering Alan -- who seemed determined to make a witty
  remark about the abrupt stop until she gave him The Look tm -- she pointed
  down the path.

  Alan nodded in recognition of the significance of the discovery and
  immediatly drew his sword. Talia rolled her eyes and muttered to herself,
  "Foolish men.. jumping into danger wavin' their swords like toys." However,
  Talia decided if he jumped into danger, then she was not going unprepared.
  Drawing two daggers, she silently followed.

  As they rose over a crested hill, the site before her eyes was amazing. A
  calm, small village nestled in the midst of a created wood? Things just got
  more and more interesting. This only set off her adventuring sense. Talia
  scanned the village with a cautious eye, remembering the villagers from
  before who had nearly killed them all.. or so others had told her. She had
  been out during that battle.

  Somehow the odd village seemed good to her. A sense of peace.. She became
  tired of waiting on Alan to make a decision. They weren't going to
  accomplish anything by sitting there and staring like kids at a candy booth
  on Feast day. He sheathed his sword, and Talia straightened her blouse and
  headed straight for the nearest house.
  Though it was the nearest, Talia felt a strange sense of familiarity about
  it. Almost as if this house was assuredly important to their quest.

  << Once inside the house the two were confronted by an old man, sitting at a
  desk look straight at them. His eyes were almost silver, and they sparkled
  like mad in the dimness of the small cottage. His face was lined with
  wrinkles but held an air of vitality that promised quick action. He
  gestured towards the two chairs in front of him, and
  without even glancing at eachother, Alan and Talia sat down. >>

  Talia paused near the doorway. Gazing at the man before her, sitting at
  the desk and looking for all to see like he expected them to come. Expected
  them! How in the Light of the Creator could he expect them? Talia sat
  down, keeping her eye on the man. Peace and serenity seemed to sweep over
  her to calm her, and when he offered tea, she felt no reason at all to
  refuse. Talk ensued, and with each word, she became more at ease. Until he
  said something.. very odd..

  "So Alan al Daren and Talia Daimar, how do things fare in your part of the
  world. I see you are here looking for the volcano...well here are
  instructions to it." A thin roll of parchment appeared on the desk.

  Talia blinked. She doubted even Alan knew her full name all that well,
  and here some stranger on the Land of Madmen knows her name and that they
  were searching for the volcano. She watched silently as Alan took the
  parchment from the old man's proferred hand.

  "Now that you have what you came for, you may leave. And by the way tell
  Xyranthes i said hello." With that statement Alan and Talia left. Talia
  couldn't believe it. She was out the door and on her way with Alan before
  she even thought of protesting such an abrupt dismissal. And Alan? She
  doubted he'd ever been dismissed in such a way. In light of the events that
  day, the two walked back to the group in silence.. pondering what exactly
  had happened. But, as it were, Talia could not think of how she had
  discovered which house was the right one.. nor why the old man knew their
  names.

  Talia looked at Alan with an odd and confused look once they had reached
  the camp. She broke the silence with a mumble or two about needing to check
  on Tareena, and she heard him say something about telling Stevan about
  their.. adventure. With a nod, Talia somehow found her way to where Tareena
  recovered and paused there briefly.. temporarily having forgotten what she
  was doing. Ah, yes, then she remembered and approached Tareena's bed.
  "Tareena?"

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  Talia Daimar
  Dragonsworn
  <><

 Myiona caught her breath, beholding the forest spread out below. She
  felt a sense of awe seeing something so beautiful and unusual. This was a
  sight worth taking a moment to enjoy. She stopped walking and stood gazing
  down into the valley.
  After a few minutes, everyone else had passed her by on their way down
  into the forest. Myiona decided that she should not get too far behind.
  She caught up with Mura'shar, who was lagging behind the others waiting for
  her.
  The trees seemed almost alive in a place like this. Their branches
  stretched up towards the sky like arms reaching for the sun. She smiled at
  her own sentiments and looked at Mura'shar. He was also looking up at the
  trees in wonder.
  Something was scurrying through the branches causing leaves to fall and
  drift lazily toward the ground. Myiona stuck out her hand and caught one of
  them and looked at it closely. It seemed much like other leaves except it
  was a silvery color on one side. She dropped the leaf to the ground and
  looked up again, catching a glimpse of something with a long tail flying
  through the air.
  At the same moment a creature burst through the underbrush and Myiona
  found herself facing a large pig-like animal with long tusks on its head.
  It bellowed and charged at her. Myiona yelped and managed to jump out of
  the way, but the creature wheeled and ran towards her again.

  Vicky
  aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
  Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 "You have the use of your sword," Janara reminded La'rece, "you should use
  that for awhile instead of the power. I'm sure it will come back, without
  hurting, I mean...without the head aches." La'rece nodded and gazed at the
  forest from the top of the hill they were standing on.. Janara stood behind
  La'rece. Janara twirled her hair around her fingers and let it fall back
  against her back. She usually wore it up somehow but didn't feel like fussing
  with it for some reason lately. A light breeze stirred colored leaves around in
  the forest as if they were confetti after a parade. There were still plenty on
  the trees, the top layer reflecting the sun like silver.
  "In all my travels I have never seen anything so," La'rece paused trying to
  think of a word, "so 'regal', not noble houses, not ladies with jewels hanging
  off them like tinsel, not even the White Tower in the eyes of a hopeful
  child..."
  "It is what I might imagine," Janara said, "the world free of the dark one to
  be. Perfect."
  There was silence.
  "Yes," La'rece said, "too perfect."

  The two bond mates strolled down the slope. Janara tried not to worry about
  La'rece and the trouble with the power she was having. What could be done?
  Either it would fix itself or it wouldn't. There wasn't any use she could be,
  even if she could weave healing better, pull more of the power into her and
  shape it better than the best yellow - no one could heal something like that.
  La'rece would just have to get better, she would just have to!

  La'rece stopped. Janara heard nothing but stood frozen. La'rece had good
  senses about these sorts of things. Then, softly, as Janara listened she
  thought she heard someone singing. The words she thought she understood, but
  they were all mixed up, like whoever was singing used the same words she used
  but used them to mean different things. The song was getting louder...moving
  closer...

  Don't you see? Don't I see?
  You are grass. What is me?
  Flawless plans are never free
  Jump once and then again,
  over a stream
  that looks back and flows, flows, flows
  as the wind blows
  up into the sky and down to swallow the sea.

  Janara shivered. The song seemed familiar, like she was remembering the melody
  from somewhere, but the words were foreign. La'rece got her sword. There was
  silence. There was laughter. Somewhere. Janara looked around. La'rece
  pointed up. Someone, a man...was it a man? There was someone or something in
  the tree.

  "Who are you?" La'rece yelled up to the person.
  "Who,
  who, who, who," the person flapped it's arms, fell out of the tree, landed on
  it's feet, rolled head over heels twice and stood up. It was a man. It was tall
  for a man, and very skinny, almost like it might be malnourished. It stuck it's
  head out and then pulled it back in a few times like a long necked bird. "Who,
  who, who," it said. La'rece held her sword and watched it for a moment.
  "I think we found a 'resident'" Janara said. She reached for the power and
  held it.
  "I think we found a resident" the man said. It grinned, to Janara's surprise,
  showing pearl white teeth. "Yep, that's me, women, 'a resident' - and you are
  trespassing on Resident's land so, who, who, who are you?"
  ____________________________________________________________________

  Janara Dragon Sworn
  Bond mate to La'rece and Ivan

 Alcinia hurried down into the forest, liking the smell of the trees.
  She walked up and touched one of the trees gently, almost caressing the
  rough bark. She smiled as she looked up and thought that it would be
  fun to climb a tree. Without any further thought she was pulling
  herself up into the branches.
  Soon she was nearly at the top of the giant tree, leaning back against
  the trunk, balancing upon a slender branch. She laughed and heard
  something cackling from nearby. Quickly, she reached out and grabbed a
  small furry animal.
  It began screeching in protest and bit her on her hand. "Ouch," she
  said letting the animal loose, "that was not nice. I just wanted to
  see you. I did not mean any harm."
  She pulled a small piece of bread from her pocket and offered it to the
  little animal. It snatched the bread, holding it in its hands like a
  person. Alcinia stared at it in amazement.
  "What are you?" she asked. "I have never seen or heard of a creature
  like you." Another appeared and pulled the smaller animal back into
  the cover of the leaves. "Go with your mother," Alcinia advised him,
  "you are lucky to have a mother."

  Alcinia

 
  Mura'shar felt relaxed for the first time since entering the Land of the
  Madmen. The forest was perfect in his mind. Neat, orderly, and totally at
  peace. He wondered if this was some sort of Ogier grove. He'd never visited
  one, but he thought they would be something like this.
  He looked around to see how others responded to the forest and saw that
  almost everyone was ahead of him. In fact, only Myiona was behind him, even
  more entranced with the beauty of the place than he.
  Mura'shar waited for her to catch up. Getting lost in a forest, even one
  as enchanting as this one can be dangerous. Though it was difficult to
  imagine anything being dangerous here...
  Myiona was looking up at the trees, admiring the leaves that were falling
  around her, when something crashed through the underbrush. A wild boar
  charged at Myiona, who barely managed to dodge out of the way.
  Mura'shar ran at the animal, drawing his sword and dagger. He threw his
  knife at he beast to distract it. The boar turned from Myiona to see what
  was attacking it.
  The boar charged. Mura'shar had hunted boars before, though he typically
  used long spears, hounds, and several companions to help. He managed to
  dodge, but his swing wasn't even close to striking the boar.
  As the boar struggled to turn, Mura'shar reached Myiona's side. She was
  drawing her sword when Mura'shar grabbed her arm.
  "This thing's furious. We can't beat it by ourselves. It's too strong,
  too fast, and it won't quit until its dead."
  "What are we supposed to do, let it tear us apart?" asked Myiona, then
  gave a yelp as Mura'shar picked her up and boosted her into the lowest branch
  of the tree.
  As Myiona climbed, Mura'shar leaped up to follow. By now the boar had
  turned around and was charging yet again. Mura'shar felt a jolt of pain as
  one of it's tusks scraped his foot as he scrambled. Myiona reached down from
  her perch and pulled him up higher. Soon they were high in the air looking
  at a very angry boar staring up at them.
  Myiona gave Mura'shar an irritated look "Now what? It can't reach us,
  but we're suck in this tree. We have to get down sooner or later"
  "Boars are bad-tempered, but stupid" he replied "We probably just
  wandered into its territory. Eventually, it'll get bored or hungry and go
  away"
  As if on cue, the boar gave a final, angry grunt and trotted away
  sniffing for something. Several small piglets bounded out of the nearby
  brush and followed. That explains that he thought.
  After a few minutes, they dropped out of the tree and hurried to catch up
  with the group. Mura'shar stopped only long enough to scoop up his knife
  where it had fallen. I should have guessed. Even the pretty things here are
  out to kill us.

  Jake
  Marked Asha'man

 

  Cyrus wandered into the woods a short distance behind Myiona, who had
  just ran after Mura'shar. He aimlessly kicked a few rocks down the trail.
  It truely was a glorious day and the forest was a sight to behold. He found
  it hard to believe that such a place could harbor such dangers as it was
  rumored to have. For the better part of this journey he had kept to himself,
  saying little to those he knew and even less to those he didn't. Perhaps he
  was a more distant man than he had thought, or the taint on saidin caused it,
  or maybe the strain of so many outings with the Tower had made him seal
  himself away from others but in any case he had decided that he had been
  silent for long enough. It was time to meet these new faces and re-aquaint
  himself with the old.
  Picking up his pace, he strode to catch up to Mura'shar and Myiona. What
  he saw brought a chuckle to his previously mello demeanor. Some sort of
  overgrown pig was intent on making the Dragonsworn an ornament on its snout.
  Judging by those to wicked looking tusks, the pig would be more than able to
  do so if it got close enough. Leave it to a flaming Dragonsworn to get
  herself into trouble in such a forest.
  Mura'shar was already there with sword drawn but at least ten paces from
  where the pig was racing after Myiona. Much closer, Cyrus drew his own blade
  and advanced in the general direction that the Dragonsworn was running. So
  intent was she on getting out of the creatures way she almost bowled over
  Cyrus and just managed to avoid running into him. Its attention focused on
  the woman the swine paid no heed to the Asha'man and a swing from his sword
  sent a nasty gash down the side of the animal, quickly followed by blow to
  the spine and the thing dropped to the ground.
  "Quite a nice sized pig you seem to have discovered," was the first full
  scentence he had uttered since the beginning of the trip to the unknown
  continent.

  Hey, its cheesy but there it is. If you don't like it, you can go to Russia
  ;-)
  anyway theres my intro so see you folks around

  Cyrus Rakkniven, Marked Asha'man

 
  Tareena sluggishly moved her feet along the path. she was hot and tired
  and just about at the end of her rope. Physically, she was exhausted. Being
  healed after falling into the snake pit had taken all of her energy and the
  group had very little time to rest. She knew that she needed to stop, and
  very soon. The group had been in the silver forest for several days,
  wandering through the ever lasting symmetry. At night, the forest gleamed, a
  fairy tale land of enchantment. To Tareena it had gotten old days ago. The
  group had thinned out, some lagging behind, others deciding to look for clues
  to the directions on the map which the old man had given Alan and Talia,
  others plodding along behind Tareena.
  Dusk had descended and the silvery hue once again ruled the forest. A
  soft twinkling sound could be heard, possibly over the next hill. The group
  came to an abrupt halt, staring in amazement. In the center of the clearing
  spread out before them stood a towering fountain, reaching forever into the
  night skies, or so it seemed to her tired eyes. Carved into the fountain
  were pictures of everything imaginable. It seemed that everywhere she
  looked, a new picture formed. It was wide around at the base, Tareena
  couldn't see the other side. It beckoned to her, the twinkling water singing
  a siren's song of comfort. She noticed she wasn't the only one hearing the
  call.
  Gratefully she sank her hands into the cool water, feeling it splash
  down her face and arms. It wasn't enough, she climbed into the fountain,
  splashing herself and playfully beginning to splash those around her.
  Turning her head, she noticed that there were notches cut into the base of
  the fountain, throwing out different colored sprays of water. Laughingly she
  stuck her head underneath the red colored spray. Amazingly, it tasted like
  punch, deep and fulfilling, better than anything she had ever tasted. She
  moved over to the blue, feeling the change in temperature and taste
  immediately. She began to run around the fountain, tasting all of the
  colors, each one better than the last. She called out, getting everyone's
  attention so they, too, could enjoy.
  A feeling of euphoria so complete swept over her tired body, filling her
  up with an enormous wave of energy and motion. She wanted to sing, she
  wanted to dance, she wanted to fly! Like a child she flapped her wings,
  making noises and flying like a bird. She ran into Traighan, who laughingly
  grabbed her and began to dance to a merry tune in his head. Like a kind and
  queen, they led the procession around the fountain, dancing and singing. The
  feelings were incredible. Tareena could see Darren, standing on the outside
  of the fountain, she wasn't quite certain what he was doing. For a minute it
  looked like he was...no, that couldn't be it. Tareena wondered if it was
  affecting everyone the same way or if she was in some sort of dream world.
  She went to sit by the side of the fountain. Aramis sat down beside
  her, holding his palms out for her to touch. She gently placed her hands in
  his. They went for a walk around the clearing, seeing, touching, feeling.
  They were knights, they were dragons, they were royalty, they were slaves.
  Aramis was replaced by Callabien, each man playing out a different story, a
  different dream.
  Tareena pulled away, wanting something different, something more. She
  began to search, running, calling. Somewhere remotely she knew this wasn't
  normal but it felt so good. Calling out his name, she wanted to be with him,
  to have him next to her. Traces of purple, orange, blue, green followed
  behind her. She could hear giggling and singing in the trees. Faster and
  faster she ran, panting, wanting more. She had to find him, had to had to
  had to had to had to
 

  --------------------------------------------------------------------------

  Okay everyone, I thought we would branch out into something different. Each
  combination of colors would lead to a different experience, different dream
  for everyone, let's hear what your characters will do. Let's keep this
  going, make it interesting :)

  Lisa

 
  Darren felt truly alive for the first time in... well, the first time since
  they had come on this strange trip. The water drops fell off his hands like
  beads. He caught one, put it up to the sun... the gem spread a rainbow on
  his face. Hmm, all these gems didn't the others realize it?
  Darren began scooping up armfuls of the precious stones, but they were too
  few. He stuffed them in his pockets, took off his shirt and scooped up a
  myriad tiny... sharp... ow! the spikes! these aren't stones, they're tiny
  soldiers wielding pairs of spears of light! Darren flipped out of the
  fountain, spraying the soldiers everywhere.
  Even though he crushed thousands at a blow, there were millions, stabbing,
  and they never died! The power must be at work here! Darren tried to weave
  spirit to deanimate the tiny warriors but something was amiss... but look at
  all the different worlds here! Colors here, wicked sharp speared water
  droplets there, a few hundred deer... one of them looks like me!
  Darrenpaused a moment. Fortunately, something in him remained unaffected and
  he leapt. An arrow flashed by, burying itself in the tree-trunk.
  The worlds he saw through the spirit came rashing down, and Darren rolled
  back towards the fountain. "Vile servant of the Dark one! Bubble of evil!"
  And then Darren saw the most beautiful person ever. With a splash he leapt
  through her. Oh. reflection? Ah! Reflection! Well, here's a reflection of
  Tareena. Maybe... ooh, thousands of them.

  Darren flopped down into the fountain face-first.

  ****

  Someone better get my nose above water before I take my next breath
  :)
  Luke

 

  Cyrus watched as the colored fountian entertained the others. Not sure
  why he did not join in the festivities, he stayed aside and merely observed
  impassivly. Relatively distant from the fountian, perhaps he did not hear
  the call that the others did, or his disdain of Dragonsworn stayed his
  actions but whatever the case, he remained at the end of the path, just under
  the leaves of the strange silver trees.
  His thoughts on the Dragonsworn brought mixed emotions. He had opposed
  their coming into the tower and long after they had been accepted he openly
  showed his opinions. On more than one occasion it had landed him into
  trouble. One case in particular involving La'rece came to mind, but despite
  such confrontations, sometimes he had actually been impressed with their
  loyalty and selflessness. Sometimes.
  Someone walked past him and joined the others in the water. Lost in his
  own thoughts, Cyrus did not take notice of who it was and his thoughts
  continued to wander from the Dragonsworn to the Black Tower, to Shadowspawn,
  unawaredly quietly muttering to himself the entire time.
  A small spark of saidin being channeled drew his attention back to the
  water fountian. A thread of spirit was being woven by someone up in the
  water. Weather any of the other men up there had felt it or not, none seemed
  to react and surely those who used the female half of the True Source felt
  nothing. Deciding to wander up himself, he found Darren face down in the
  water, thrashing around. Oddly, he seemed not to try to raise his head out
  of the water but move toward unseen objects. Unaware of what he was doing,
  Darren was drowning himself.
  Reaching a hand down, the Asha'man took hold of a plot of Darren's hair
  and lifted his head out of the fountian. The other man still seemed to be in
  a daze of some sort and it took a few considerable slaps to the face to bring
  him back from wherever his mind had been. He then cast his gaze upon the
  others to see if anyone else seemed afflicted by this strange ailment. Could
  it have been the water that caused it or some effect of saidin....

  This is pretty much a re-introductory of me back into the swing of things.
  It kinda gives an idea how Cyrus thinks to the new people and may refresh
  some of the older one's memories. Kinda rusty but hopefully they'll get
  better

  Cyrus Rakkniven
  Baijan'm'hael of the Black Tower

 
  Mura'shar grumbled as he pulled on his spare boots. The boar had
  completely torn the sole off one of them, though his flesh had remained
  largely intact. HE was grateful to still have both his feet, but his spare
  boots weren't very comfortable.
  He limped over to the fountain where the Black Tower was congregating.
  Multicolored water shot from the fountain, and the Asha'man and Dragonsworn
  were playing, splashing, and drinking the water.
  A splash of rose colored water hit him in the face. As he wiped it away,
  he noticed it had an odd taste. It was quite good, really. He took an empty
  flask and filled it with the reddish water.
  Mura'shar took a long swallow. Almost immediately his senses seemed
  sharpened, like he was holding onto saidin. Colors were sharper, sounds
  clearer, and tastes stronger. And everything was...good.
  A sense of contentment swept over him. A silly grin crept across his
  face, and the problems of the world faded from his mind. Dangerous animals
  in the woods? Who cares! They're not here now. His shoes were
  uncomfortable? He reached down and pulled them off. Tainted saidin? That's
  a problem for another time.
  Mura'shar wandered into the forest, smiling and laughing at everyone he
  saw. It was a very pretty forest. He should go see some more. He took
  another sip of the water form his flask and discarded his weapons. He didn't
  feel like carrying them right now.
  The novelty of this silvery woods came rushing back to him. It was new
  all over again. Mura'shar gazed at the trees, the leaves, even the animals.
  He tried holding a conversation with a ground squirrel, to learn more about
  this place, but it didn't feel like talking and scampered away. He wandered
  through the woods barefoot without a care in the world, and the rudeness of a
  rodent wasn't about to dampen his spirits. Not after another drink of water,
  anyway.
  He found himself in a small clearing and sat down to rest. Mura'shar's
  interest was caught in a large tree stump.
  Now There's a life worth living!. A stump has no obligations, no job, no
  responsibilities. It's grown its fruit, fought for sunlight, shed its
  leaves. Now it can just sit there and watch others do that. Nothing bothers
  it. No woodcutter will chop it down. Storms won't knock it down. It's a
  peaceful life.
  Mura'shar drifted off to sleep still envious of the tree stump across
  from him. His dreams were filled with odd colors and shapes. It was
  fascinating, but vaguely disturbing. Several times he thought he had
  awakened, only to drift off again.
  He didn't know how much time had passed when he woke up. His head was
  hurting a little, so he took another drink of water. He still had more than
  half a flask left, so he wasn't concerned about running out yet, if he could
  be concerned. Still, he supposed he should get back to the others. There
  was still that...Sea Folk...what was it? He shrugged. That Sea Folk "thing"
  to attend to. He supposed he should put on an appearance. Now where was the
  camp again? He picked a direction at random and started walking

  Jake
  Marked Asha'man

 As Myiona's head cleared, she could once again feel the presence of her
  bondmate. She concentrated on where he was and found him to be a good
  distance from the fountain and heading in the opposite direction. She stood
  and found that her legs were steady and decided she should go find him
  before he got totally lost. She considered leaving a trail of bread crumbs
  so she could find her way back, but decided it sounded totally stupid.
  As Myiona hurried down the path, she could hear the sound of singing in the
  distance. The words were slurred and hard to understand, like a man who had
  one too many at a tavern.
  As she came upon him, she found Mura'shar talking to a tree. He seemed to
  be trying to get directions from it and getting very angry when it would not
  answer. Myiona walked over and put her hand on his should. He jumped and
  turned around, giving her a sheepish grin. "Mura'shar," she said sweetly,
  "you are going in the wrong direction if you intend to rejoin the group. I
  suppose you drank from the fountain as well. I guess we will all feel
  better in the morning, but for now we should head back toward the fountain."

  Vicky
  aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
  Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 
  Andraia stood by the fountain, gazing into the depths of the water. The
  sound of it's trickling sounded musically in her ears, but she resisted for a
  moment, lifting her canteen. The water inside was slightly warm and tasted
  metallic, but she knew it was safe. The people around her had begun to act
  in strange ways, most likely from the water. Whether there was something in
  it or this was just a property of the water in this mad land, she didn't
  know. However, she did know she didn't want to drink it. She wouldn't act
  the fool.
  All around her people were laughing as they danced and splashed in the
  colored water from the fountain. Next to her a Dragonsworn threw a handful
  into the air and twirled as it came down, smiling as though she had found the
  secret to happiness. Andraia shrugged and turned, preparing to walk away
  from the revellers. A drop of water landed on her hand, its surface
  glittering like a ruby placed in a snowbank. She stared at it a moment, then
  deliberately tilted her hand, letting the drop slide off and fall,
  shimmering, to the ground below. She glaned back at the others as they
  cavorted in the water, then walked to a tree a short distance away and sat
  with her back against the silvery trunk, her white skin shades lighter than
  the bark around her. She slide her hood off and took her thick braid of
  white hair in one slim hand and unravelled it, brushing her fingers through
  the silky length before she braided it up again. The sounds of singing and
  laughing drifted to her ears as she sat, her eyes closed. This was how it
  always was, how she preferred it -- calmness and solitude, even as others
  enjoyed themselves. She looked up as another troop of the strange creatures
  that lived in the trees swung by, screeching raucously and frightening a
  small flock of winged animals, one of whom flew down and alighted on the
  ground near her. She stared at the little creature, a bird the size of her
  finger and as multi-hued as the water of the fountain. It looked at her with
  one tiny black eye, unafraid, before flitting back to rejoin it's flock. A
  small smile curved her lips as she watched it go... perhaps this land wasn't
  as completly evil as she had thought.

  Andraia Korinth

 
  After a few seconds in the fountain, Traighan felt his heart thumping
  louder and faster and louder and faster inside him. The grand fountain
  spread out around him endlessly. He could see nothing but the fountain.
  His body was warm; Not uncomfortable, but not normal. Heat, in the cold
  water of the endless fountain.
  Looking around, his eyes picked out every last detail of every member in
  the fountain at a glance, asif he were holding saidin. SAIDIN beckoned him.
  Yet the sight of everyone was blurred with a tense vibration at the same
  time. Without thinking, Traighan seized saidin and lashed out at he sky with
  a torrent of fire. A vast disc of flame spun furiously over the fountain
  under Traighan's misguided control. He bellowed with laughter, arm thrust
  skyward, pointing at the blaze above.
  Those still in the fountain looked at him as concern registered on their
  faces. He suddenly was ignorant of them all. Saidin filled him. body, mind
  and soul and his bondfire in the sky was twirling faster and faster with each
  second that passed, each bark of his laughter. He began lashing out, fingers
  of flame dancing away from his fiery disc and tapping the tops of trees as
  the fountain suddenly shrunk around him and land was again visible. Each
  tree he laid eyes on was touched by the fire he held, and burst into
  flames....
  He almost sensed panic around him, but he paid it no mind.....light this
  is glorious....

  mike
  he who writes seldom

 
  Shea stared. She had seen drunk people before -- even been in the condition
  herself once (she never cared to repeat the experience). But. There was
  drunk, and then there was insane.
  With a sigh she turned away from the fountain and the revelers, and began
  rummaging through the packs. After a moment of feeling around she came up
  with a near-empty canteen. The water tasted metallic, warm, and was probably
  more backwash than actual fresh drinking water. Never in her life had Shea
  been so glad to drink something. She poured the last few drops over her head
  and ran tired fingers through her unwashed blond hair. Undoubtedly if she'd
  cared to look at her reflection in the weird fountain, she'd see a stunning
  beauty queen, decked out in the finest Atha'an Miere brocade, but it took
  only a glance at her wrinkled standard-issue black coat to know what a mess
  she was. She unbuttoned the coat, not caring that underneath she wore only a
  thin linen blouse, and sat down against the trunk of an alien tree.
  She'd quenched her thirst for now, and the hunger pains hadn't yet
  manifested themselves. Shea surveyed the crazed members of her team for a
  moment before tiredly closing her eyes. As an afterthought she also covered
  her ears with her hands. This is a nightmare. Oddly enough, the thought
  comforted her: she was bound to wake up sooner or later.

  Shea (Rae)
  Novitiate
  None too clueful on our present situation, IC or OOC.

 Tareena awoke, startled to find herself slumped over a fallen log with
  her skirts flung up over her head. For a fleeting moment, she felt something
  pull at her, softly calling for her to return to wherever she had been. She
  had been searching for someone....she thought. Her mouth was incredibly dry,
  her parched throat crying out for moisture. She hauled herself to her feet
  and began looking around, wondering which direction she needed to head.
  Suddenly, up above her, brillant lightening flashes and balls of fire
  exploded into arcs, illuminating the night sky. Tareena ran, knowing that
  this was not a good sign. She needed to find her friends and now.
  Bursting into the clearing after what seemed like miles of running,
  Tareena brought herself up short and gasped. Horror filled her entire body.
  Chaos reigned at the fountain. Her brothers and sisters were playing out
  their dreams, having drunk from the fountain. Others were lying on the
  ground, still feeling the effects. Traighan stood in the middle of it all,
  orchestrating the symphony of fireballs in the sky. Sweat poured down his
  face and madness circled him like a prize fighter. The ones who had not
  drank from the fountain were trying in vain to bring order to the group
  surrounding the cacophony. Traighan resisted all efforts to slow down. The
  situation was becoming critical. Heat enveloped the clearing, searing the
  foliage and causing others to begin gasping for air. Oppressive, nauseating.
  Members worked to slam a shield down but it appeared as though he were
  gaining in strength. He had tapped into some unknown wellspring of power and
  was using it for all it is worth. A solution needed to be found and quickly
  or the BT would cease to exist.

 
  Sarenda watched the sober, calm and mature Dragonsworn and Asha'man in
  something near to shock. Those adjectives did NOT apply to this group! Many
  were sprawled against trees at random, while others moved dreamily about
  without seeming to see the world. I would not drink that nice sparkly stuff
  if you offered me gold! Not if it does that to you! A few seemed to have
  forsworn the fountain as well; Sarenda saw some sensible ones opening
  canteens or just avoiding the colored water. Very good idea. She emptied
  her canteen, thirsty from the long walk.
  Still, she was curious. She wandered toward the fountain, trying not to step
  on anyone- or be run over by the sleepwalkers. Up close, the fountain was
  stone, and massively wide. When she leaned over the rim, she saw carved
  animals spouting what looked like different colors of punch all along the
  side. Where the colors met, they didn't mix; instead, swirls only a
  fraction of an inch wide twisted and twined across the surface. Very strange
  indeed. She stared into it for a long while, lost in thought and worry.
  She was pulled from her reverie when a searing ball of fire shot straight up
  into the sky- and it had been launched from very nearby. Turning, she saw
  with horror one of the Asha'man was throwing up great gouts of flame as he
  stood by the fountain. The others were trying to shield him before he burned
  the trees to the ground- and the members of the Black Tower too. Sarenda
  stared in shock as the struggle progressed. The man had incredible strength,
  it seemed, for he threw off every effort to shield him. What was he using?
  Some inner force lit his eyes and powered his resistance.
  Abruptly Sarenda realized she should stop staring and do something, unless
  she enjoyed the prospect of going up is smoke. Moving quietly to come up
  behind him, Sarenda readied a strong shield. It ought to work... After all,
  what did I study most to become a Red? For one whose life work had been the
  capture of male channelers, shielding such should be a well learned skill. On
  ly one problem- I've never had an opportunity to try out what I learned in
  all those lessons. Aloud she muttered, "Sure hope this works."
  With that, she cast the shield, and "watched" its sharp leading edge slice
  the invisible flows. When it seemed the shield would be thrown off, she
  shoved again, abruptly and hard. The fountaining fireballs cut off, and
  Sarenda sighed in relief and slumped against the fountain.
  The fountain. After nearly being roasted, Sarenda was once again parched. Wh
  atever this does, can't be worse than being nearly cooked alive, she thought
  grimly. And she had already drained her canteen. She leaned toward the
  nearest. "Red. Suitable," she observed, and drank. The taste was
  wonderful, clean and refreshing. And very, very powerful! she noted with
  surprise, and sat down abruptly beside the fountain's base. She was so...
  tired... even though the water-if water it was- had been so refreshing, she
  suddenly wanted very much to sleep. When she did, her head resting against
  the fountain wall, she dreamed.
  Deep in a trancelike, unshakeable sleep, Sarenda dreamed of other places and
  people. She saw a man with light eyes and hair- the Dragon, she realized,
  bargaining with tattooed and pierced women and men, and saw a great wind
  interposed over them, sweeping away tiny figures; she saw a tall woman with
  a dark braid, and the old Amyrlin and Keeper, and the woman tied a cord to
  both of them while they argued soundlessly back and forth. She saw other
  things, ghostly images and people she both knew and did not. A man with dark
  hair swung a sword at something she could not see, and shouted with words she
  could not hear; a woman knelt in a pool of silver with a collar and leash
  around her neck, but the leash was snapped; a tiny figure she took to be a
  child laughed and did not see an army of soldiers riding grimly toward his
  back; the wings of a great black bird spread over a fashionably dressed man
  with deceitful eyes. On and on, more images, none of which she understood.
  When she woke, she felt uneasy, as though she hadn't slept at all- but the
  pictures were no clearer. Sarenda shrugged and went to see what they had
  done with the Asha'man who seemed to have gone crazy. She realized with a
  shiver that the water could have caused his behavior- and was very, very glad
  she hadn't suffered the same fate. She hadn't even stopped to consider the
  idea before drinking. Light! Well, the others hadn't gone crazy. She
  looked around at the others. Well, I hope they haven't.

  @->-->-- Sarenda,
  She Who Has Been Long Absent
  (but is now, hopefully, returned..)

 
  He was struggling to keep his mind as surreal translucent images flew in
  front of his eyes, distorting reality. Thankfully, he had only drunk a
  little...

  Everyone rejoiced when they saw the majestic fountain, for it had been a
  tiring day. Even he was glad, and he ambled up to the fountain behind
  everyone else to drink. It was only when he was close he noticed the strange
  colours, and he found himself cupping his hands under the purple flow and
  taking a sip. Finding it strangely refreshing, and tasting sweet and pure, he
  brought his hands towards his mouth for another sip, when he noticed the
  strange actions of his comrades, and tipped the contents of his hands onto
  the floor...

  After staggering around clutching his head for what seemed like an age, the
  images gradually faded into nothing...luckily for him he hadn't drunk enough
  to make them a full reality.

  He looked around and noticed that there were others who were still sane too,
  namely Cyrus, Alcinia, Sarenda and Andraia. What could they do to help the
  others? He yelled to his friends as an idea came to him. "Make them fall
  asleep!"

  At first they looked at him strangely, then as his commands began to make
  sense to them they began to channel the same weaves as he was, causing the
  rest of the Tower to slump to the ground in a deep slumber. First Stevan
  knocked Traighan out, for Sarenda had been looking at him anxiously,
  wondering whether it would be safe to relent her shield so she could knock
  him out herself.

  As Traighan fell to the floor the Novitiate turned to him and mouthed a
  "thank you," before turning and carrying out her work. Soon all the Tower
  were slumped on the floor in a deep slumber, and the five met in the centre.

  "They'll be out of it for a while," laughed Cyrus. "They may not even wake in
  the morning!"

  Alcinia was more concerned. "But will the effect of the water wear off, or
  will we have to find a cure for that as well?"

  "No Alcinia, it disappears," spoke a woman's voice from behind them. They
  turned to see Myiona and Mura'shar at the edge of the clearing. "We were both
  affected, but the effect wore off after a time. They'll all be fine in the
  morning. We should get some rest now."

  Stevan sighed with relief, until Andraia nudged him on the shoulder, and
  pointed the flasks on the ground beside their sleeping comrades, stained on
  the outside with coloured water. "Our water supply..." she muttered
  anxiously...
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------

  We can move on now!

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

 After hiking for some time, Mura'shar was no closer to the camp than
  before. He wasn't overly concerned, though his bare feet were getting a bit
  sore. He sort of knew that he should go in a certain direction, but his
  addled mind knew he should be heading this way.
  Finally, close to frustration, he stopped to ask for directions. A
  nearby tree looked like a likley thing to ask.
  "Excuse me" he asked a nearby birch" But have you seen a campsite around
  here? There's a lot of men dressed in black, like me. But they have shoes.
  And there's some women with them. And a girl"
  The birch thought for a moment, but said nothing.
  "There's a fountain, too. With spouts that shoot colored water. Like
  this" He took a long pull on his flask and spit the water into the air. It
  still didn't jog the tree's memory.
  "Well, you're a lot of help, considering you've lived here all your
  life!" He began to wonder if that nagging sense of his was right after all
  when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
  "Mura'shar jumped and spun around, expecting a more helpful tree.
  Instead he saw Myiona. Beautiful as ever.
  "Mura'shar. You are going in the wrong direction if you intend to
  rejoin the group. I suppose you drank from the fountain as well. I guess we
  will all feel better in the morning, but for now we should head back toward
  the fountain."
  Mura'shar grinned at her. "I know. I was trying to get some directions,
  but the trees in this forest are incredibly suspicious of strangers. And the
  animals aren't much better. I was starting to wonder if I would ever see you
  again."
  He embraced Myiona and gave her a long kiss. Myiona was startled, but
  didn't pull away. He then turned to the tree and snarled "What are you
  staring at?"
  Myiona seemed a little nervous. Maybe it was the look the tree was
  giving him, but she started tugging at his arm. "Come on, Mura'shar, the
  others are waiting for you. He let himself be dragged away. The tree was
  clearly trying to goad him into a fight, and he wasn't going to give him the
  satisfaction.
  The incident left Mura'shar a bit thirsty. He took out is flask and took
  a sip and passed it to Myiona. "That fountain has some strange looking
  water, but it tastes great. Want some?" Myiona took the flask, but didn't
  drink, muttering something about "safe keeping"
  As they hiked back to camp, the effects of the water slowly wore off.
  Mura'shar's mind cleared. Once he realized the full extent of how crazy he'd
  been acting, he flushed a deep red.
  "Oh, Light!" he exclaimed, did I really...Blood and ashes!" he said over
  and over. Myiona only laughed and told him that he was relatively harmless
  compared to some reactions to the water.
  When they finally reached the camp, they saw that most of the Black Tower
  was asleep. Stevan, Cyrus, Alcinia, Sarenda and Andraia were the only ones
  awake, anxiously debating what to do and whether the fountain's effects wear
  off.
  "No Alcinia, it disappears," said Myiona. Mura'shar still stunned at
  how he acted. At least there was no one around to see him act like that.
  Except the trees. Stop that!. He thought to himself
  "We were both affected, but the effect wore off after a time. They'll all
  be fine in the morning. We should get some rest now."
  Mura'shar agreed. The sooner this incident was put behind them, the
  better. He was still a bit giddy from the water, so maybe that's why he
  didn't feel cold dread when Andraia pointed out their water supply was
  tainted.

  Jake
  Marked Asha'man

 

  Lysergic acid diethylamide. Caballein recalled running across the unusual
  name once in a fragment of a text from the Age of Legends. A history text,
  the rotting scraps of paper carried a brief fragment of the account of the
  end of the First Age and the beginning of the Age of Legends. Apparently,
  something called lysergic acid diethylamide had been widely used in the
  turbulent years prior to the consolidation of the warring states of the late
  First Age into a single worldwide Union of Nations and the subsequent
  discovery of the True Source which began the Age of Legends; what he now
  witnessed around the strange fountain seemed to have close to the same
  effects that lysergic acid diethylamide was described as having.
  That fragment had been a fascinating bit of history, and thinking back on
  it now it seemed to confirm his suspicion upon reading Tcheran that the
  giants Mosk and Merk were in fact actual historical figures, if not in fact
  anything at all like the portrayal of them in the legends. The fragments of
  the history text had also included a passage which noted that "although the
  Head of Merk sought to extinguish forever the Lances of Fire, those who
  claimed to represent the People of Merk spoke against it." Cryptic, and any
  further explanation in the surrounding text had been destroyed.
  His train of thought was suddenly interrupted as Tareena appeared behind
  him and slipped her arm around him. "Milord, I must speak to thee," she said..
  He blinked. "What?" No one talked like that outside of romance epics from
  the Trolloc Wars.
  "I have long needed to tell thee that when thou goest forth to make war on
  that Dreadlord who doth plague our city, my heart doth vanish as well, and I
  know that it shall return not 'til thou hast arrivèd safely back. I must
  know, tonight, where thy heart doth lie."
  Caballein sighed; apparently the water from the fountain was making her
  believe she was living one of those epics. He was tempted to help the fantasy
  play out, but he knew he could not take advantage of anyone drugged from that
  fountain. What under the Light is that thing, anyway? He started to compose a
  response that would fit within the fog she was living in. Something suitably
  flowery. Milady, I have known of thy feelings for many passes of the moon
  over this land. Yet thou must know that my heart is pledged to another...
  Before he could open his mouth, though, she suddenly broke away from him and
  ran into the silver trees surrounding the fountain.
  He looked after her a moment before concluding that she was in no danger;
  those under the fountain's spell seemed to be unwiling or unable to travel
  too far from it. Looking back at the fountain, he watched the behavior of the
  Tower members around it. Most simply seemed to be dancing happily or acting
  as if witnessing some sort of fever-dream. Aside from a few men who created
  more or less harmless weaves of the Power solely to watch the pretty colors
  resulting, there seemed to be no threat to any of them; most looked happy.
  One of the Dragonsworn, a young woman whose face Caballein did not recognize,
  had shed her garments completely; her bare feet danced nimbly along the wide
  stone rim of the fountain. She was certainly pretty, but he averted his eyes
  hastily; he had had quite enough of that sort of discomfort on the Sea Folk
  ship.
  The fountain was at the center of it all, obviously. Caballein approached
  it, stepping over a Dedicated who ran back and forth on his hands and knees
  barking like a dog. The liquid in it appeared to be perfectly ordinary water;
  it didn't look a bit like lysergic acid diethylamide or any other kind of
  acid he had ever heard of. More likely, the fountain was a ter'angreal of
  some sort, and the Power was responsible.
  He tentatively dipped a finger into the water; it was cool and apparently
  completely harmless. It had no unusual scent either; in every respect he
  could test it short of actually ingesting it, it was completely identical to
  water.
  He glanced around again. The young woman he had noticed earlier had ceased
  her dance; she now sat on the rim of the fountain, giggling and splashing
  water into the faces of her very appreciative black-coated crowd of admirers..
  There was a certain beauty in the sort of uninhibited freedom and happiness
  the fountain-enspelled men and women were experiencing; a part of him wanted
  to cast away his black Asha'man uniform and join the woman on the fountain.
  Happiness was a fleeting thing, and even a few instants of happiness taken
  from an unnatural source like the fountain were a valuable thing, enough to
  justify delaying their mission for one night by the fountain. Of course,
  there was always a risk that this condition might be permanent, but from what
  Caballein knew of Healing it was very rare for either mind-altering chemicals
  or weaves of Spirit to persist for more than a day or so.
  A few instants of happiness in a life all too full of pain had to be worth
  it.
  He reached into the fountain and drew out some of the water. He brought his
  cupped hands to his lips.
  A sensation that what appeared to be water was in fact the most beautiful
  thing he had ever tasted. A sudden realization that not all of those who had
  drunk from the fountain had had pleasant visions. The water that dropped from
  his hands rained down on the grass, looking like a rain of oil.
  Flicker.
  "Caballein! Please protect me, I beg you!" cried Fause, clinging to his
  shoulder and cowering behind him. Without hesitation, he drew his sword and
  plunged it into the succubus' heart. No. That's not the way it was. She tried
  to kill me. She slumped and fell; he caught her bleeding body by reflex. He
  tried to touch the delicate skin which her torn gown exposed, to apologize -
  Apologize? How? - but she faded from his arms like so much mist.
  "Caballein, I wil answer your questions," said the captured Sharan woman,
  her gaze like ice. "You must grant me my life." He swung his sword to a new
  angle and rushed forward; her body stiffened around the blade. No. Not my
  sword. And she was beheaded, not stabbed! What is this bloody fountain doing
  to me? Fountain? What fountain?
  "Caballein!" The cry, painfully familiar, came out of the darkness, and
  suddenly Morana was there before him. "Help me!" He swung the sword - No! -
  and felt it pierce her flesh. This isn't happening! This never happened!
  She's alive, and she's safe! She collapsed, the word "Why?" written across
  her beautiful eyes. Safe with Omoide, who just happens to apparently have
  been appointed one of Shai'tan's newest Dreadlords. The thought almost made
  him laugh.
  As if the thought had summoned him, Omoide was there. "You can be free,
  Caballein. They can all be yours again. Return to your true master!" He tried
  to swing the sword, but regardless of how close Omoide was, the sword passed
  in front of him, seeming not quite long enough to reach the one heart that
  truly deserved its kiss. "By your own wil or without, your soul is the Great
  Lord's, forever!"
  Caballein turned and fled, Omoide's last words pursuing him across barren
  hills below a dark sky with an angry red sun above the horizon. What happened
  to the trees? And the fountain? There is no bloody fountain! He heard the
  sound of pursuit and looked back; the bleak landscape was covered with
  misshapen creatures, and ravens blackened the sky.
  He found himself at the crest of one of the hills. You bloody fool, you're
  supposed to stay on the low ground! He knew his form was obvious in the light
  of the setting sun - was it a sun? - to his pursuers. A raven caught sight of
  him and winged close. "I see a little silhouetto of a man!" it cawed.
  The army behind him charged. "Scaramouche!" Their battle cries pursued him
  as he fled. "Scaramouche! Wil you do the fandango?"
  He seized saidin. "Sudden bolts of lightning!" he cried, hurling a weave of
  Fire at his pursuers.
  "Very very frightening me!" they screamed, their flesh dissolving in flames
  that made the false sun hanging in the sky seem dim. Yet still more came, an
  endless stream of evil from an unknown source.
  Or a source he knew all too well.
  A high domed building made of some strange white material rose ahead of
  him, a strange cylinder protruding out a window opened to the sky on one side
  of the dome. He ran for the building and slammed its door behind him, knowing
  that refuge could be found here. He started up a long flight of steps which
  encircled the large chamber inside the building. "Galileo!" he cried, and the
  word echoed back to him from all around the empty building. GalileoGalileoGali
  leo....
  He reached the top of the stairs and emerged into a comfortable-looking
  circular room. At one end of the room, a white-haired man stood peering into
  the end of an enormous spyglass, the like of which he had once seen at the
  Dragon's center of learning in Cairhien. "Galileo!" he cried again, rushing
  towards the man.
  The man stepped away from the spyglass and motioned to him to look into it..
  He bent over it and peered into the small eyepiece; at the center of its
  circular view was a flat wooden floor framed with bright curtains. People in
  strange costumes rushed across the floor, engaged in producing what he
  recognized from Age of Legends histories as an opera.
  "Figaro," the man said into his ear.
  Caballein nodded. "Magnifico," he whispered. Somehow, it all made sense
  now.
  He looked up, and saw no sign of the man. Where he had been, a figure he
  wanted to see even less than Omoide stared at him with its eyeless gaze.
  "I'm just a poor boy," he whispered desperately as Shaidar Haran advanced
  on him. "Nobody loves me."
  "He's just a poor boy from a poor family!" shouted a thousand black-coated
  Asha'man as they flanked him and faced the Hand of the Dark with him. "Spare
  him his life from this monstrosity!"
  "Easy come, easy go," hissed Shaidar Haran, its hand reaching for his face..
  "Wil you let me go?" he whispered futilely as the world dissolved around
  him. He found himself in a narrow cave roofed with sharp stalagtites, the
  eery glow of lava shining from its end.
  "Ist wil nach! No, we wil not let you go!" screamed the mob of Myrddraal
  that rushed on him to drag him forward, to that pit of fire.
  "Let him go!" cried the Asha'man outside the cave, unable to follow him
  there.
  "Ist wil nach!" the Myrddraal screamed again in their frenzy, nearly
  pulling his limbs from their sockets as they dragged him forward. "No! We wil
  not let you go!"
  His feet touched the fire, and still they pressed him onward. "Let me go!"
  he cried once more, his voice echoing futilely. The only response came from
  the lake itself.
  NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO.
  "Oh, mama mia, mama mia," he whispered, casting his eyes upward at the
  unnatural sky which hung over the opening in the ceiling of the cave.
  The Asha'man surged forward, making one last effort to overcome the
  Shadowspawn who blocked them. "Mama mia, let him go!"
  "Ba'alzamon has a devil put aside for me!" Caballein screamed. "For me!" He
  felt the fire turn his flesh into ash. "For me!"
  His voice died in the fire as the world faded around him. A momentary
  glimpse of silver woods, a fountain looming over him, then blackness.

 
  Someday I'll wake and rub my eyes and in that land beyond the skies you'll
  find me. I'll be a laughing daffodil and leave the silly cares that fill my
  mind behind me.
  Shea opened her eyes briefly. A few feet away an Asha'man battled with
  some nonexistant foe, screaming in some unknown language. At times she
  thought she almost understood the gibberish he spouted, but whatever it was,
  the rhythm didn't sound like regular speech. She replugged her ears and
  closed her eyes. The song was an old one that she and her father used to
  sing together, of hope, but still of longing. Resolutely, Shea returned to
  her song.
  Someday I'll wish upon a star and wake up where the clouds are far behind
  me. Where worries melt like...Subtly, the muffled noise around her was
  changing. Shea stopped singing, dropped her hands from her ears, and looked
  around. Saidar was being channeled, she was sure of it. The novitiate stood
  up with a proud grin; it was the first time she had recognized the One Power
  without coaching. Soon, the Dragonsworn told her, she'd be able to touch the
  True Source on her own, every time. Feeling triumphant, she turned to tell
  her good news to the Asha'man -- he wouldn't be able to decipher her from the
  rest of his dreamworld in any case -- but was startled to find him curled up
  on the ground in a fetal position, fast asleep.
  Strange. He'd been quite awake a moment ago, if not exactly what one
  would call lucid. Shea pulled her coat together and buttoned the bottom two
  buttons; dusk brought with it shadows and a chilly wind. It would be best to
  see if she could find any others who had abstained from the fountain's
  intoxicating waters, and try to generate some warmth with them. Secluded as
  she was in the bush, they certainly wouldn't find her.
  As she walked, she grew more and more amazed. Everyone was asleep.
  Admittedly, some still twitched in haunted dreams, but every single one of
  the revelers was quite unconscious. Probably it came from the saidar she'd
  felt earlier. Shea turned into the clearing adjacent to the fountain, and
  was greeted with the welcome sight of fully lucid, waking members of the
  Tower. Not just low-ranking ones like herself, but the M'Hael. Immediately
  she saluted. "Novitiate Shea, sir, awake and quite sober." She turned to
  the women of the party; one was a Novitiate too, and another Alcinia, whom
  she had first met on Tremalking. "You did this, or some of it, didn't you?"
  She grinned tightly. "I felt it."
  The five others explained the whole thing to her. The fountain was no
  longer the problem. Survival was.
  I've survived this long, she thought wryly as she tried to make herself
  comfortable and take her mind off the water supply trouble. Whispering so
  quietly that nobody but an insect on her shoulder would hear it, she resumed
  her song. Somewhere, over the rainb...

  Shea/Rae
  Novitiate

 Myiona wondered around the campsite helping settle the sleepers as
  comfortably as possible. She found that most seemed to have collapsed in a
  heap and getting them straightened out took considerable effort. By the
  time they had finished, she was very tired and barely had the strength to
  find her blankets before rolling up in them and going to sleep.
  Her dreams were filled with flashes of bright light and beautiful colors,
  like the waters of the fountain. She also thought she glimpsed an great
  group of people heading for the forest. Like the villagers they encountered
  before, these were deformed and appeared mad. Men, women, and some odd
  animals were heading from all parts of the island toward the forest.
  Myiona woke with a gasp and sat up. She looked around the campsite.
  Everything appeared peaceful for now, but later . . . She shuddered
  wondering if it was just an ordinary dream or a dreamer's dream. She stood
  up and walked over to the edge of the camp. As she stared off into the
  darkness, Myiona could not help but wonder what they might encounter on the
  rest of the journey in this place.

  Vicky
  aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
  Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 Talia had agreed to stay at the camp, though her adventuring sense called
  for roaming and exploring with the others. She just didn't get really good
  vibes about this place, and that, in itself, compelled Talia to volunteer to
  help guard and run the campsite instead of go out into the woods. The old
  man she and Alan had gotten the map from was just entirely too creepy. He
  knew things. His eyes had shown with knowledge, as if he'd been around to
  know everything there was to know. Such people give Talia the creeps. And
  she didn't get the creeps that often.

  Talia watched as the group returned to the campsite. She helped them get
  food and whatever they needed. Sometimes she didn't mind acting like a
  serving girl, but others it irritated her to the bone. She watched as Alan,
  Stevan, and the other Asha'man discussed what they had found. She still
  wasn't totally used to the feeling of Alan in the back of her mind
  constantly. Alan was always there, no matter where he was physically. She
  shook her head and continued helping those who had returned, hearing tales
  of an odd fountain that made them see things. Talia was almost glad she
  hadn't gone with them. Though it did sound like an interesting adventure.

  Talia awoke in the middle of the night with a very odd sensation.
  Something wasn't right. She sat up and stepped out of the tent to take a
  short walk about the premises of the camp. Whatever it was, it wasn't going
  away. The feeling was just there, like a numb dread. Was she being
  paranoid? Perhaps. Talia couldn't tell whether it was paranoia or what she
  called her adventuring sense. She hugged herself and noticed Myiona was
  awake. Approaching her, she nodded in respect for her rank. "Can't sleep?"

  ~Talia Daimar
  ~Dragonsworn

 Myiona heard someone approaching and turned to see Talia. "Can't sleep?"
  she asked.
  "It isn't really that," Myiona said cautiously. "Do you know anything about
  dreaming? I am a dreamer, at least I think I am. I had a dream tonight
  about the forest being approached by a large group of people like the
  villagers we fought. It spooked me I guess."
  Myiona smiled at her own foolishness. "I guess that sounds silly," she
  said, "being afraid of dreams at my age. Still, sometimes my dreams are
  true. I just don't know if this is one of those times or if I am just
  worrying. We will be weak tomorrow from that 'water' and if we run into an
  attack we may not be able to survive it this time."
  Myiona looked back at the sleeping camp. Some of the people were tossing
  and turning as if still fighting off the effects of the strange water.
  "Well," she said with a sigh, "I guess tomorrow will have to take care of
  itself. Now, how are you adjusting to being bonded? It was difficult for
  me to get used to and I was Aes Sedai before. Is everything going okay?"

  Vicky
  aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
  Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 Morning sunlight filtered through the treetops, warming the ground with
  it's touch. Tareena stood rubbing her arms, waiting for the meeting to come
  to an end so that she could have a few moments to herself. Ever since she
  had drank the water in the fountain she had felt odd, even after she had
  slept off the effects and made her way back to the main camp with the rest of
  the group.
  She couldn't remember everything about that strange time but she could
  remember bits and pieces and one main theme. She had been searching for
  someone, someone whom she desperately needed to fill the void, a void she
  didn't even know she had. The problem was, she had never found him. He had
  wandered, just out of her sight, never slowing down enough for her to join
  him.
  I wonder if I will ever find him? I thought it was Darren....but he
  has been so distant lately...I wonder if it is something that I have
  done...it is so hard to know what to say. I know that when he looks at me
  that certain way, my knees feel like they are going to shake forever...but
  other times, it's like he doesn't know I exist or thinks I am a child still
  on leading strings. I wonder if other people have had these feelings? It
  seems like all of the other bondmates get along so well with each other.
  Maybe we have problems because Darren didn't really want to bond me? Of
  course, I didn't want him to bond me either, to be fair. It just had to
  happen. Maybe it would be different if I had bonded him as well, like the
  others. No, probably not. Let's face it, whatever he was beginning to feel
  for you has changed and he just doesn't want to hurt your feelings. What
  other explanation could there be for his behavior?
  Tareena felt herself becoming angry at the thought. How dare he toy
  with me! Who does he think he is? I didn't ask him to start paying
  attention to me, he just did! Well, fine, if that's the way it's going to be
  then he isn't going to catch me waiting around for scraps of his attention.
  There are plenty of people around for me to spend time with. I'll show him.
  "Tareena, what do you think? Are they prepared to travel again?
  Tareena?" With a start, Tareena jerked her head around, staring straight
  into the M'Hael's eyes. Flushing guiltily, she mumbled something under her
  breath while Stevan repeated his question. After hearing her answer, the
  meeting broke up, the group resolving to travel on in approximately one hour.
  They should reach the end of the Silver Forest before dusk and there they
  would find a place to break camp once more.
  Feeling humiliated and chastised, Tareena hurried away from the other
  officers, reluctant to become engaged in conversation. Anger began a slow
  burn once more. Practically stomping around her campsite, she packed what
  few possessions she had and prepared to leave. Tareena jumped when she felt
  a hand placed on her arm. Instinctively she jerked away and looked up into
  the eyes of her bondmate.
  "What is the matter with you Tareena? I could feel you through the bond
  and then Alan came by and told me what happened at the meeting. Are you
  okay? Is something the matter? You know you are in a position to have to
  concentrate. You are responsible for a lot of people with your rank, you
  know."
  At some point during this diatribe, Tareena came to two realizations.
  One, she was in love with this man, and two, if she could choke the life out
  of him right now, without consequences, she would do it, twice if she could.
  "Who in the bloody hell are you to tell me who I am responsible for Mr.
  high and mighty Ashaman! I have managed to attain rank in the Tower through
  hard work and discipline and I don't need you to remind me that I made a
  mistake today, thank you very much! I especially don't need you to come at
  me like some insufferable condescending wool head who knows everything
  either! I am sick and tired of you thinking you are smarter than I am and in
  control of what I do!"
  "Whoa, hold on a mintue, where is this coming from? I only wanted to
  see how you were doing, not get yelled out like some fishwife's husband!
  Obviously you need to calm down and relax. I don't know what is wrong but I
  certainly don't deserve this."
  "Don't tell me to calm down! Ooooo you make me so mad. It's not my
  fault that you can't make up your mind whether or not you have feelings for
  me. Maybe you think it's funny and it's all a game to you but it's not to me
  and I am sick of this friendly one minute and distant the next. Maybe that's
  why you are alone at your age!" Tareena knew she had went to far when she
  felt more than witnessed the blood draining from his face. Hurting him was
  the last thing she wanted to do. Or was it a small voice whispered in her
  mind. With a cry, she took off running, crashing through the underbrush.
  Limbs reached out to stop her mad flight, pawing and tearing at her hair and
  clothes. With a sob, she flung herself to the ground, landing with a flump
  in some leaves. She crawled to a fallen log and rested her head against it,
  sobbing out her hurt and frustration. He's never going to want to be with me
  now. I have ruined everything. Now what am I going to do?

 So few events in life ever leave such an indelible impression as the
  first time an event occurs. After the odd fountain, Aramis realized for the
  first time that he was truly alive. He didn't just inhabit a breathing body
  that ate and slept, the soul of the one now called Aramis flowed through Life
  as unique and individual as anyone could hope to be. What was that thing he
  drank of? Perhaps he would never know.
  ....battle flashed... ... The Dragon held a blinding light in his hand,
  but a woman controlled this fight...
  ...A wolf stepped out of the mist to guide him, but this wolf was also a
  man...
  ...His mother, Elyra Morwyn, died in her sleep even as Aramis boiled the
  blood of two Seanchan women...
  ...A woman whose face he could not see searched for something she could
  not find unless she stopped running long enough to look behind her...
  So much to think about. The future perhaps seemed grim, but new hope
  blossomed in brilliant technicolor...

 Rengar held Odessa close to him, feeling as though she was on the cusp of
  telling him something that she had never told anyone before. But the question
  posed now was: did he want to hear it? Who was he to try a consol Odessa now,
  when he had his own problems to deal with.
  But his slight fear was allayed as Odessa moved away, leaving Rengar alone on
  the starboard rail, and much to his surprise he did not feel the least bit
  sick anymore. Odessa always did have a good Healing talent, even if she won't
  admit it herself, Rengar thought to himself. What I am going to do now?
  There isn't a whole lot a man can do on a Sea Folk ship except...
  At that point two Sea Folk women passed Rengar, and he couldn't help by trail
  after them with his eyes. Maybe there is something I could do while I'm
  waiting...Rengar thought, but he knew that whoever was in charge of this ship
  wouldn't be happy if they found out he was sleeping with a crewmember.
  Neither would Stevan, now that he thought about it. Rengar let out a long
  sigh, and left the rail to head towards the staircase the led to the lower
  deck area.
  After a few minutes of wandering aimlessly around the lower section of the
  ship, he bumped into yet another member of the crew, this time a man. For a
  reason Rengar could not fully explained, he decided to introduce himself.
  "Hello, I'm Rengar. I'm here with the...channelers," Rengar said. He did
  not think this Sea Folk man understood, or really cared that Rengar and his
  companions were part of the Black Tower. He probably only knew that they
  could use the One Power, and let their opinions of his friends rest on that
  knowledge.
  "And I am Locke. If you will excuse me, I have duties to attend to above
  deck," the man named Locke answered, and he made his way past few towards the
  staircase Rengar had taken to get down here.
  Locke? That name sounds familiar...oh yes, it was the name of that thief I
  met back in Cairhien, though he preferred the term "treasure hunter". Funny
  little man, Rengar reminisced, before making his way into what appeared to be
  a library. He immediately spotted a woman and a man looking through some
  rather large and aged-looking books. He did not recognize the woman right
  away, but he knew right away who the man was.
  "Xyranthes! It's good to see you again, my friend. Hitting the books again,
  I see?" Rengar asked, not being able to hide his joy at seeing his old friend
  again. Meetings between the two had been few a far between since the mission
  in the Blight, and Rengar suspected that Xyranthes had spent much of his time
  since then in places like this. Reading, deciphering, studying the old texts
  written in the Old Tongue. Something Rengar had never liked to do.
  "Ah, Rengar! I wasn't expecting to see you down here, among the old texts.
  What brings you here?" Xyranthes asked, closing the book he had apparently
  been looking through to listen.
  "Nothing really. Not that I don't read every once in a while, but I wasn't
  trying to find this library. I'm just trying to kill time," Rengar replied,
  and he glanced in the direction of the other person who had also been reading
  through the books with Xyranthes. She seemed to be trying to listen in on the
  conversation the two men were now having, though she wasn't being very subtle
  about it.
  "Oh really...In that case, you can help us look through all of these books
  then. Having three people instead of two would speed things up a bit,"
  Xyranthes said, a small grin coming to his face. He knows that I'm not
  well-suited for the task that he's asking me to do, but he asking me anyway?
  Rengar held back a groan and made his way next to Xyranthes companion in this
  small investigation.
  "So, what is it we have to find?" Rengar asked, but at that moment a Sea Folk
  crewman entered the library, and from the haste in which he delivered his
  message it seemed as though he had something important to say.
  "We've reached land now, so if any of you what to disembark now and explore
  the island, you may do so."
  "No, I think it would be better if I stayed here," Xyranthes said, while the
  woman who Rengar now recognized as Ariana didn't say a thing. Funny, I
  remember when I was angry at Odessa for letting the woman travel with us, but
  she seems to be moving up nicely in the Tower, from what I've seen, Rengar
  thought to himself, taking the Sea Folk crewman's offer and heading back to
  the deck. Setting feet on dry land should do wonders for me, Rengar told
  himself. The time I've spent on this boat certainly hasn't given me anything
  to feel good about so far.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------
  Rengar had met Odessa above deck and had asked her if she wanted to come with
  him to the small island they seemed to have discovered. Odessa had agreed,
  and now the two of them now found themselves on the beach, hand in hand,
  through a series of events that Rengar was still trying to get out of his
  mind.
  "I can't remember the last time I felt so calm, without any fear of dying
  this day or the next," Odessa said, more to herself than to Rengar, as she
  walked along the beach with the surf gently brushing her bare feet. Rengar
  had opted to keep his shoes on, realizing that things had already been carried
  a lot further than he would have liked in the first place. But how could he
  have denied Odessa's request to take a peaceful walk on the beach, especially
  with the way she had been acting recently. This Land of Madmen seemed to
  frighten the Light out of her, and because of the bond the two of them shared
  Rengar understood perfectly how she was feeling. And that was what frightened
  him the most.
  "Well, it does seem as though we don't...have a lot of time to spend together
  anymore, does it?" Rengar asked, trying to make his sentences as bland as
  possible. The last thing he needed was the be rolling on the beach with his
  bondmate and only later find out that the others had left them on this island.
  Though it would give him more of what he was experiencing at the moment...
  "No, I don't think that we do," Odessa answered, and before Rengar knew what
  was happening he felt their lips meet, and as he pulled away words failed to
  form out of his mouth. But Odessa's seemed to have more to say...
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------
  Rengar did not like the way the sky was looking now, standing once again on
  the deck of the Sea Folk ship that had become somewhat of a home away from
  home during these past few days of traveling. He had come back with Odessa
  just a short while ago, when the sky had skill been as blue as the sea had
  been then, but now the sky was gray, and it was getting darker by the moment.

  After what happened on the beach I seem to feel just fine, but if this turns
  out to be a big storm I'm not sure if I'll be in worse shape than the boat,
  Rengar thought to himself, and as the first rains cascading from the heavens
  to the floor of the ship Rengar made his way below deck. Yes, this certainly
  is going to be a storm to remember...
  About an hour later Rengar got word to come up to the deck again, to join in
  a link that Xyranthes was forming with all of the channelers he could find.
  Rengar ran out of his small room and above deck, where he could already see a
  good number of people in a circle together, each person holding the others
  hand. Without looking to see who was on either side of him Rengar joined into
  the circle and grabbed the two hands on either side of him.
  Just then Rengar grabbed onto saidin, forcing it to do his will as he added
  it's power to the strength of the link that was now formed between all of the
  channelers present. Rengar felt completely overwhelmed by the sheer volume of
  Power he now felt passing through the link, and he could only imagine what the
  leader of this link was feeling, having to control this terrible amount of
  energy.
  But something was wrong. Suddenly that balance of ecstasy and revulsion was
  invaded by a different feeling: chaos. And Rengar could physically feel the
  beginnings of a small vacuum forming somewhere close by, and just when Rengar
  had believed things were supposed to be getting better they got much, much
  worse.
  Suddenly he could feel himself being flung from the deck of the ship and into
  the cold, icy waters below, the coldness shocking him so that he lost his grip
  of saidin, and awoke to a cage of cold fluid surrounding him. The darkness
  enveloped him, and the cage got smaller, and smaller, and smaller, until he
  lost consciousness.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------
  "Good morning honey," Odessa said, as Rengar awoke to find himself in a two
  person bed, with sunlight raining down upon him now through an open window.
  As Rengar arose and looked around, the vagueness that he had been experiencing
  just a few moments ago was now turned into utter confusion.
  Four plain wooden walls surrounded him, and on each wall there was some kind
  of accessory; paintings of horses, mostly. Odessa was bent over a large stone
  oven, and had apparently just started cooking something. Where I am? Rengar
  wondered, but he didn't have time to find out, as Odessa came over to him and
  put her arms around him with a casualness that surprised him.
  "In past time you started tending to those sheep of yours, Rengar. And for
  Light's sake, don't use the One Power again! Don't you remember what Stevan
  said?" Odessa asked, looking up at his dark eyes. "Now get going!"
  "What did Stevan tell me? Why can't I use the Power?" Rengar asked, as he
  tried to begin to understand what was going on in this place; the history he
  seemed to have in this dream of his.
  "Maybe you did have a bit too much to drink last night, if you can't
  remember...Remember when you started losing control of the Power, and you
  decided to leave? Because Stevan told you that you might be going..." Odessa
  stopped, and suddenly buried her face in her two cupped hands, and left it
  there for a few moments before continuing. "That's when you decided to leave
  the Tower, and come back here to Cairhien. And I came with you."
  "I see. But how? When did I first start losing control of the Power?"
  Rengar asked, as he was beginning to get a better picture of the situation he
  now found himself in. In this the...future? Rengar thought to himself, but he
  banished those thoughts out of his mind almost as soon as they came. No, I
  can't be going insane already. Can I? Odessa only seemed about a year or two
  older than she did now, at the most. Is it really that close in coming?
  "Now that's enough talk out of you! I told you to tend those sheep, so do
  it!" Odessa said, gently pushing him out of the doorway. But instead of
  seeing fields of green and white, Rengar saw all black, and that when...
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------
  "Here's another one!" a voice called, just as Rengar was transported back
  into consciousness. As Rengar opened his eyes his noticed that it was that
  woman again, Ariana. Apparently she had a more fortunate landing than I did,
  Rengar thought, and a few seconds later was forced to "remove" some of the
  contents of his stomach next to him on the grass. I guess I drank to much
  salt water, Rengar thought to himself as he sat up. He looked around now and
  saw several bodies scattered around the same area that he now found himself
  sitting in.
  "Where are we?" Rengar asked Mura'shar, who had also just to walk around.
  This place is unfamiliar to me, Rengar thought, glancing at the thick foliage
  that seemed to envelope them now. Could this be...
  "It's the Land of Madmen, I believe," Mura'shar answered, and as he walked
  away he stopped, adding, "This is where the real mission is to take place."
  Rengar nodded, and he moved to find his bondmate, eager to see if she was all
  right after the rough landing of the ship, which was now resting on a pair of
  cliffs. So, this place truly does exist, Rengar thought. I only hope we can
  get out of here as soon as possible with a cure for the Windfinder's disease.
  I already have a bad feeling about this place, and I've only been here for a
  few minutes.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------
  Well, I cut some things shorter than I might like, but we are supposed to
  have had two RPs finished by now, right? So here's by slightly abridged
  second RP, yours to enjoy. Or revile, your choice...I hope everyone has a
  happy New Year, and no computer-related problems. Or any problems at all,
  other than trying to avoid all the hoopla there's sure to be on TV about that
  "thing". Well, that's all I have to say. For now...
  Kyle

 
  Alcinia awoke feeling refreshed and looked around at the camp. She ate
  breakfast and packed her things back up. She saw the exchange between
  Darren and Tareena, and shook her head. Tareena ran off through the
  forest. Several people watched her go, uncertain of what was
  happening.
  Alcinia walked over to Myiona and asked, "What is going on with
  Tareena?"
  Myiona shrugged, "I don't know. Perhaps it is just the after effects
  of the fountain. I know I have a slight headache and Mura'shar's head
  is pounding like a drum."
  "I don't know much of healing," Alcinia said, "but I can handle a
  headache." She embraced the source and wove the healing flows that
  would eliminate the pain.
  Myiona smiled and asked, "Can you do the same for Mura'shar? His
  headache is worse and it is spilling over the bond to affect me."
  Alcinia walked over to Mura'shar, "Myiona asked me to heal your
  headache," she said. She channeled the healing flows into him, causing
  him to shiver. "Do you feel better now?"
  "Yes," he said with a small smile, "thanks. Now I should get my things
  together before Myiona has to tell me again."

  Alcinia

 Darren slowed from a run to a walk. He could tell where Tareena was, and she
  was going to stop eventually. And she might be able to use a little time on
  her own before he came to her.
  Darren realized that though they had a direction sense to each other, the
  didn't have one for the camp. He began setting up trail marks along his way
  - a series of triangles of small stones to guide him back.
  After a few more minutes, she had stopped running. Darren picked up the pace
  slightly.
  And there she was, draped across a fallen log. He paused once he was nearby,
  and watched, and smiled. A millipede crawled onto her dress, towards her
  legs. Darren knelt and put his hand in front of it. It hesitated, and walked
  on. He put his hand on the log facing the other way. The millipede
  continued, oblivious.
  He sat.
  "Tareena..."
  She opened her eyes, looking at him, half with expectation and half with...
  fear? anger? suspicion? She had not been asleep, clearly.
  Darren unclasped his two swords and set them aside so he could kneel more
  easily. This gave him time to think, something he had done remarkably little
  of while following her.
  {{I'll say, "Tareena, I have wasted most of my life fighting. Can we stop?"
  Oh light that's way too corny. "Tareena, I didn't mean it. Please, come
  back." But I did, and it would hurt my credibility. "Tareena, I'm sorry I
  belittled you." But where do I go from there?}}
  Darren made up his mind. Rather than speaking, he reached out and pulled
  Tareena's hair off of her ear. She seemed slightly confused. She was not the
  only one.
  "Hey, Guys!" The voice of Traighan reached ahead of the rustle of his feet.
  Darren was about to pull his hand out in embarassment. Instead, he
  whispered, "I love you."
  That said, he unhurriedly slid his hand down through her hair to her
  shoulder. Tareena was about to say something when Traighan called out,
  "We're striking camp, remember?"
  Tareena stood; Darren followed her up, leaving his hand on her shoulder.
  Tareena smiled. "Can't keep him waiting, can we?"
  The moment her head was turned, Darren practically snarled. {{Come on, tell
  me!}} But he controlled his tension, and resumed amiability a moment
  later... after all she didn't know what she was putting him through. "Indeed
  not. Shall we go?"
  Darren reached to grab his swords. In his upper peripheral vision - a
  flicker of motion, and prickle of Saidar.
  He suddenly siezed Saidin and made a wave he had never made before.. he
  didn't even know what it was. A bar of somehow absent blinding white emerged
  from his hand, and intercepted an identical bar. The two bars seemed to last
  a little longer than they really had.. before the afterimage was gone,
  Darren was already attempting to counter the next, more conventional
  attacks. But not much more. A plane of green flames spun towards him,
  weaving rapidly around each tree on its way to him from the woman. His first
  two attempts, snuffing it out with Air, and diverting it with Flame and
  Spirit, failed - Only when he tried to block it directly with a small stone
  thrown up with earth did it stop. {{Not your urdinary flames! And... how did
  I do that? I've never moved anything before! I guess my interpretation of
  interference with the power is broadening}}.
  [[OOC: I have a block, that I can only use the power to interfere with, or
  at least modify, others' use of the power]]
  Behind him he felt a flare of Saidin. {{That better be Traighan!}}
  Fortunately, it was. A lightning bolt struck the tree in which the woman was
  hiding.
  It was fortunate in a way that she kept attacking without pause, or else
  Darren would have diverted his attention to the other two channellers he
  realized were attacking the trio.
  A fourth suddenly hurled a fireball. Rather than counter it, Darren dove for
  the ground. "COVER!"
  In the moment's respite before the attackers came to a position they could
  hit him, he noticed he was the only one who had been standing.

  *****
  OOC: The camp will be under attack in about fifteen seconds. Enjoy!

  Luke

 La'rece gave Janara a look. Janara let go of the power, remembering that she
  wasn't supposed to channel. She reached for her dagger. Light, she wasn't any
  good at using weapons in spite of the fact that both La'rece and Ivan worked
  hard
  at teaching her. Light, it had nothing to do with their teaching, it was just
  that with the power she could pretend that she wasn't really harming anything -
  swords and daggers were so personal it was difficult to deny.

  There was a sudden explosion in the sky. The odd man looked up. "Mooorrreee
  trespassers!" he screamed and scurried off into the woods. La'rece and Janara
  stood frozen for a moment and then rushed toward the explosion.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  ---------

  Sleep was difficult. By the time La'rece and Janara had made it to the unusual
  fountain things had calmed down. Janara followed Andraia's lead and refused any
  of the water. It obviously did something odd and it made no sense to drink what
  you know you don't know anything about. Janara did, however, manage to collect
  enough containers of various types to get a sample of each color of water.
  Maybe
  that was foolish too, but if Janara had shown more smarts in the White Tower,
  she
  probably would have been a Brown instead of a White. Humph. That's what she
  said
  about her small ability to heal too - if she had more she would have been a
  Yellow instead of a White. Oh well, she wasn't even a Sister now, so the point
  was moot anyway. In any case, a couple of the Browns could study the colored
  water when they returned. Maybe it had more powers that no one realized.

  Janara turned over and finally went to sleep. Dreams of the many possibilities
  for the water filled her mind.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  ----------

  (OOC: maybe we can use the water some way to jump start the adventure after this
  - you know, the Browns find something in them that requires us to do something
  else. I don't see it being highly significant to this adventure unless someone
  has a cool idea)
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  ----------

  There were whispers throughout the camp the next morning. Someone had a dream
  that suggested that the group may be in danger. Janara heard everything from
  talking animals to the Dark One escaped.
  "Save some rations for later," Ivan said. Janara jumped. Light that man
  could sneak up on someone.
  "I'm just hungry," Janara replied.
  "You're eating like a horse," he said, "or, I suppose the saying is you
  could
  eat a horse." Janara shrugged and continued to eat.

  There was a sudden commotion and people started to draw their weapons. The food
  in Janara's mouth almost made her choke. She was forced down. Something was on
  her back! Her face was pushed into the dirt. "Like a baby under his mother's
  knife," was whispered in her ear in a high male voice. A moment later the thing
  fell off her. Ivan stood over her with a bloody sword. "We're being
  attacked!"
  someone yelled. Janara looked at the man who had pushed her down.
  "He jumped out of the tree," Ivan said. The man was as skinny as the person
  La'rece and she had run into the day before.
  "I'm here," La'rece said a moment after Janara wondered where she was and if she
  was ok. La'rece's sword was bloody. She smiled. "At least I can still swing a
  sword," she said.

  There was the clanging of steel and the rush of the power being used. Janara
  pulled her dagger. She reached for the power. Well, if other people were doing
  it...

  At first it seemed only a thought, then a whisper, then a song erupted, no...it
  was a chant...from the people who attacked them...mad channelers...

  Death lasts until death begins
  Birth brings pain
  Birth brings pain
  Madness is not of the curable sins
  Sanity splits the brain
  Death lasts until death begins
  Birth brings pain
  Birth brings pain
  Madness is not of the curable sins
  Sanity splits the brain

  Each word brought a thump to Janara's head. It felt as if her mind was
  splitting open. Soooo Muchhh Painnn!
  "I'm not channeling!" La'rece yelled holding her head. Her sword barely
  dangled in her right hand. Janara's eyes were watering but she could see other
  people reacting as if in pain too. There was a sharp pain at Janara's right
  hip. She held her hand there and lifted it to her eyes and saw red. Red
  Sisters? What's red?

  "Try shielding!" someone yelled.

  What's red?

  ___________________________________________________________________

  Janara Dragon Sworn
  Bond Mate to Ivan and La'rece

 
  Talia nodded at Myiona, "I know how you feel.. this place just presents an
  air of.. paranoia. At least it does for me. As for bonding.. yes, it is
  strange. It's as if I do not know whether certain feelings I have are mine
  or Alan's.. I..." Talia stopped midsentence.. Saidar. Myiona looked as if
  she felt it as well. Talia stood, baring her two daggers before she even
  thought of embracing Saidar.

  The other end of the camp started racking with Power enduced lightning and
  fire. "Blood and bloody ashes.." Talia murmured to herself as the camp
  began to bustle much faster than it had been. More mad channelers? Alan..
  where was he? Talia looked about.. she knew where he was. The bond made
  sure of that, but for some reason, she really wanted to be there to watch
  his back. As if in joint agreement, Myiona and Talia parted ways looking
  for each other's bondmate.

  Talia found Alan organizing a defense with the Asha'man. "Alan.." He
  nodded and pointed toward where the disturbance was from. "Mad
  channelers.." It confirmed Talia's suspicions. Or were they Alan's to
  begin with? This whole bonding thing was going to take some getting used
  to. No time to think on that then, though. Talia was ready.. or as ready
  as she'd ever be. Holding her daggers readily, she embraced Saidar as she
  watched the attackers. Darren was in trouble. Without thinking, she flung
  a force of Air at the feet of those attacking him.. Alan had been thinking
  the same thing, and it seemed the Earth shook underneath their feet at the
  same time. Teamwork? Coincidence? OR was it the bond again? Who knew?
  But it didn't look like their effort scared the attackers in any least bit..
  More like their effort made them mad. Really mad.

  Talia turned to Alan and those Asha'man and Dragonsworn about her..
  "Okay.. so that might not have been a good idea.."

  ~Talia Daimar
  ~Dragonsworn

 
  Tareena stood stunned as Darren whipped around and a bar of white light
  shot from his hands. She immediately became aware of the presence of another
  woman channeling Saidar. Blood and Bloody ashes! Here I am standing here
  paying so much attention to that man, I completely forget to feel another
  woman channeler! That's twice today I have let him divert my attention from
  my situation. Enough is enough, I cannot let this continue. Tareena felt
  Traighan tugging on her arm, pulling her down, down on the ground. With a
  hard thud, she hit the dirt, instinctively rolling over onto her stomach. A
  fireball blew through the trees and Darren joined them on the ground.
  The trio exchanged glances with one another as their situation became
  more precarious. Automatically, as if they had been doing it for years,
  Tareena and Traighan linked and formed a shield, protecting them from the
  onslaught, at least for the time being. Traighan directed the flows, firing
  back at the enemies. Darren deflected the worse of the weaves, some of which
  Tareena could see and some not. Saidar flowed through her, filling herself
  with it's sweetness. For a fleeting moment, Tareena thought about Traighan's
  madness after the fountain and wondered if it would affect him now. At this
  moment, she had to believe in him. Her and Darren's immediate survival was
  intertwined with his. She just hoped he would keep it together.
  As a unit, they raised themselves up onto their feet, moving steadily
  away from the attackers, trying to put trees and foliage in between
  themselves and the strange weaves being hurled at them. Tareena could feel
  the shield being hammered. Someone was trying to cut them off from the
  source, slamming into it again and again. There was no finesse to the weaves,
  just raw power being focused against them.
  Suddenly a weird blue light arced towards them at the same time three
  other flows shot toward them. Darren deflected two and Traighan deflected
  one but the last blue one was too powerful. It sliced through the shield,
  spraying dirt, leaves and sticks. She desperately clung to the source,
  knowing that if she let go, she would be severed from it. She lost count of
  the number of people she saw moving through the trees.
  Looking to the left and to the right, She couldn't see any quick avenue
  of escape and their current defense/offense wasn't working. She was quickly
  tiring, holding almost all she could hold of Saidar, almost to the point of
  pain. She began hurling fireballs and blowing up earth underneath her
  assailants when she could spot one, but that was few and far between, she
  knew that they were at a definite disadvantage. She could feel Darren tiring
  through their bond and she could tell just by looking that Traighan was
  becoming equally so. They needed to think of something, and quickly.

 A strange silence settled over the forest, and Myiona felt Saidar being
  channeled as the attack began. "Watch out," she yelled, but her warning was
  too late. Most of the tower members were already fighting.
  Mura'shar ran at her and knocked her to the ground as a bolt of lightning
  landed where she had been standing. "Ouch," Myiona said as she fell.
  "Couldn't you have found a softer place to push me on? this one is full of
  large rocks. I'll be bruised for days."
  As they crawled behind a bush to survey the situation, Myiona rubbed her
  backside. "Light blasted islanders," she cursed. "Why me?" After a look
  from her bondmate she ceased the external complaining, but the internal
  continued on.
  "It looks bad," Mura'shar said pointing toward the attackers. "We are badly
  outnumbered and they have surrounded us. Our only chance is to pick off
  little groups of them. We are going to have to be aggressive."
  Myiona nodded and wondered if indeed they had even a slight chance of
  escaping this battle. As she embraced the source, she shielded them as
  Mura'shar . . .

  Vicky
  aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
  Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 
  Alcinia was going to jump into the battle and help her friends, but
  found herself surrounded by a group of channelers. She was shielded
  quickly and her knives taken. Her hands were tied behind her and she
  was led away.
  Alcinia tried to yell for help but one of the men slapped her across
  the face and then channeled a gag of air into it. She knew that she
  was lost because there was no one to notice she was gone or follow her
  via a bond.

  Alcinia

 
  The odd blue light crashed through the shield that Traighan, Tareena and
  Darren had been holding up with all their strength. Saiding recoiled onto
  Traighan crashing back into him and knocking him to the ground. On hands and
  knees, Traighan lifted his head to see fires and lightnings erupting and
  crashing randomly in all directions. There was no sense or order to it.
  Tareena and Darren rushed to Traighan, picking him up by his arms and
  holding him steady for a moment. Yet they never ceased fighting the attack.
  In a daze, Traighan found the void but found himself blocked from siadin as
  well. His eyes went wide and his mouth hung agape. The look of pure panic
  on his face must've summed up his situation to Tareena and Darren instantly.

  They linked and let loose a wave of earth toward the natives that had
  surprised the three. It started small, rolling slowly away from them; Then
  building speed and size as they fed their strength into it together. Then
  natives stood in a group, ten paces north where the barrelling wave of earth
  crested and crushed them.
  As the earth swallowed the natives, Traighan felt the barrier between him
  and Saidin vanish, and without thought, he seized the sickening torrent of
  power and channelled ferociously. Spirt, a thick cord of spirit shot from
  him skyward to a point a few paces over his head. There it stopped suddenly
  and arced into a dome over himself and Tareena and Darren. "DO THAT AGAIN!!!
  WE FOLLOW THE WAVE BACK TOWARD THE CAMP!!!" Traighan screamed, spit flying
  from his mouth. His face was drawn tight, lips wet and snarling, and his
  eyes were glazed and distant.
  Tareena and Darren didn't reply. They shared a quick, amused glance that
  Traighan seemed not to notice and sent another wave of earth rolling. The
  three sprinted in its wake with Traighan's sheild above them...

  mikeO
  ooc...umm...hope this works for everyone.....take it away

 
  Cyrus felt saidin being channeled as shouts erupted in the camp. Looking
  up, he saw a flash of light followed by a deep booming sound come from the
  direction of where members from the Tower were sitting. People scattered as
  another flash illuminated the night. Then another.
  Jumping to his feet, Cyrus sprinted toward his companions but they were
  scattering before he arrived. Already holding onto the Power, he barely
  avoided being killed by a gout of flame that erupted from the ground next to
  him by diving aside and cutting the weaves of his assailant. He rolled into
  a small cluster of trees and shrubs, and waited for another attack but none
  came. Apparently his attacker had either lost him or forgot about him.
  From his relatively safe location, he quickly scanned the area seeking
  the location of any would be attackers. Many times he saw pairs or trios of
  Tower members doing the same as he but he had yet to glimpse any of these
  mysterious natives.
  There. He had felt a rush of the power somewhere off to his right
  accompanied with some sort of red flare. Whatever these madmen were,
  dangerous would be an understatement. Creeping along keeping as low to the
  ground as possible, Cyrus manuvered until he was directly behind the fellow
  he had seen moments before. At first he wondered if the man was still there,
  then a brief chuckle from the bushes ahead told him he was.
  Mercy was not one of Cyrus' attrubutes in battle. He had learned from
  his days as a soldier in the Illian army that being an honerable opponent
  often led to being a dead opponent, though a very select few in the Black
  Tower saw it the same way. He channeled and a ball of flame erupted in front
  of him and engulfed the man who had tried to kill him only a minute or two
  ago.
  The camp was chaos. He saw people fighting to stay alive and keep the
  madmen at bay. He saw a woman raise her hands and a blast of fire streaked
  from her and into the trees. Weather it hit its target or not he couldn't
  tell but it should at least keep whoever was back there honest for a few
  minutes.
  Drawing his sword, he saw Janara and La'rece just off to his left about
  twenty yards away. As he turned toward them, he heard an odd sound.
  Somewhere there were people chanting and with the chanting came pain. Cyrus
  was knocked to his knees by it and it took a moment to collect his thoughts.
  His head was pounding and his entire body ached but he forced himself up.
  The two Dragonsworn were in the same spot as before but something else
  captured his attention. A man was standing out in the open, chanting along
  with the other madmen. He seemed focused on his song because Cyrus was
  easily able to sneak up on him. He hit the man with a block of air and the
  madman spun around, suprised. Taking hold of his face, Cyrus said "you're
  not the only ones who can cause pain." Channeling Fire and Spirit, he sent
  threads of pain into his opponent. Writhing in the grip of agony, he fell to
  his knees before he blacked out from the pain and the Asha'man quickly
  dispatched of the man with his sword.
  Once again he made his way to the two Dragonsworn and upon arriving he
  saw that Janara was bleeding. "We have to get to a safer place. We're out
  in the open, targets to whoever comes along and decides they want us dead!"
  he shouted over the din. He had seen Ivan a few moments before but he was
  nowhere in evidence now. Probably not far though. He reached down and
  grabbed Janara. She groaned but he began to drag her to the treeline. He
  had to find somewhere to put her until someone who could heal came along.
  Cyrus had long since discovered he was much more adept at destruction than
  healing.
  Making their way into the trees, he began to scout for a safe place to
  put Janara as well as look for more of the attackers. This was going to be
  one long night.

  Cyrus Rakkniven
  Baijan'm'hael
  Happy new year friends

 Mura'shar had hardly walked out of sight of Alcinia, enjoying the feeling
  of non-pain from her Haling of his "hangover -whatever it was- when the camp
  was attacked.
  He leaped out of the way just as a fist sized fireball slammed into a
  silvery tree, turning it into a silvery torch. Mura'shar spun around and saw
  three badly scarred men emerged from the forest ,bursting with saidin.
  Mura'shar threw up a wall of flame and ran. He didn't bother to see if
  he got any of them. He had to get to the others. He could already hear the
  sounds of battle and saw flames made from the One Power shooting up above the
  trees. He hoped Alcinia was okay. She was resourceful but alone. He pushed
  that train of thought to of his mind. One problem at a time. First make
  sure that you survive. And Myiona.
  He saw Myiona at the same time one of the attackers saw her. The woman
  was pointing at Myiona, and he knew she was channeling something. Without
  thinking, he rushed at Myiona, knocking her out of the way of a blast of
  lightning. They both landed hard, but they were alive. Mura'shar unleashed
  a blast of Air, sending the attacker flying backwards into a tree with an
  audible crunch.
  "Couldn't you have found a softer place to push me on? This one is full
  of large rocks. I'll be bruised for days." Myiona grumbled and rubbed the
  part of her that landed on the rocks.
  Mura'shar bit off a comment he might have otherwise made. The situation
  was too grim for banter. As he surveyed the camp, he saw the Black Tower
  fighting for its life against a superior force of native channelers. He
  couldn't help but wonder where they all came from. He didn't think there
  were so many on this whole island, let alone this region.
  Myiona saw the look on his face and fell silent. He told her what he
  thought of the situation and what they should do.
  "Our only chance is to pick off little groups of them. We are going to
  have to be aggressive."
  Myiona nodded. She began weaving shields as Mura'shar struck down the
  islanders while they were helpless. As they continued, with one of them
  defending them while the other attacked, they struck down their enemies in
  ones and twos. They avoided the larger knots of them, waiting for one to
  stray from the others , waiting for one to get careless. It was taxing for
  both of them. They switched roles from time to time, but neither was getting
  much rest.
  They still made some progress. The number of attackers was steadily
  decreasing. They finally decided to pause for a breather when they saw
  Scree. She was cowering by the base of the fountain, the dogs they had
  picked up forming a protective ring around her. Neither side was paying any
  attention to her, yet.
  It was at that point that a large group of mad channelers headed towards
  the fountain, screaming in rage. The dogs growled at them and readied
  themselves to leap at the threat, but Mura'shar knew they would be less than
  nothing against the threat.

  Jake
  Marked Asha'man

 
  A vision of silver leaves slowly faded into existence above Caballein's
  eyes. He opened them fully and found himself prone on the forest floor.
  He saw the fountain through through the trees some distance away. Vague
  memories of impossible visions danced in his head; apparently whatever had
  happened to him under the influence of the fountain's waters had faded now.
  Groaning, he pulled himself to his feet, glad he had drunk no more of the
  fountain's water. He started to make his way back towards the fountain when
  he heard the silver leaves which covered the forest floor crunch in the
  distance.
  He froze and melted into the shadows of the forest as best he could - too
  many bright colors, not good for cover in black clothing - and waited as the
  sound came towards him.
  A small procession of the native channelers emerged from between a pair of
  trees, dragging between them one of the women from the Black Tower's party.
  Alcinia, he thought her name was, though he knew no more than that.
  "What are you going to do with me?" he heard her ask them. She sounded
  hopeless, defeated, though trying to be brave.
  "Sacrifice!" they said, wondering how something so obvious could not be
  known. "Gods be pleased."
  Caballein sighed and stepped out from behind his tree. "Infidels!" he
  boomed, trying to look as intimidating as he could. "Think you that the gods
  send their people here only to be sent back? I come to you from the Land
  Across the Ocean, wherein dwell the gods, and I say to you that there shall
  be no more sacrifices!"
  The procession stopped at this unexpected interruption. "But.. gods live in
  fire-mountain, not over ocean," one said timidly.
  "Silence, cretin! The gods are in all places!" Caballein snapped. Idiot,
  you don't know the specifics of their religion. Stay general.
  The leader of the processsion stepped forward. "He is dressed as other
  outsiders!" he proclaimed. "No god; only sheep, for sacrifice!"
  Without changing expression, Caballein wove Earth and blew up the ground
  under the man's feet. "Question not my word," he said icily.
  "He uses only the Fire of the Mind!" shouted another man from the
  procession. "No god; all men can do this!"
  Caballein sighed; channelers were harder to intimidate than normal men. He
  wove Spirit and shielded the entire group; it took effort, and the shields
  were much too thin to be any real use if they resisted, but he hoped it would
  be enough. "The Fire of the Mind is ruled by the gods," he informed them. "I
  deny you its warmth!"
  They blinked upon realizing that saidin was barred from them, not realizing
  they could easily have broken down the shields that held them; apparently
  they had no previous experience with shielding. So reliant upon the Power
  that they did not even carry weapons, they dropped Alcinia fled, thinking
  themselves helpless against the power of the gods.
  Caballein went to Alcinia and helped her up. "Are you all right?" he asked.

 Odessa stood, back to a tree, watching the stars sparkle in quite beauty.
  She went over the last week in her mind, still wondering why she had come
  back. Getting a handle on her fear was becoming easier. It was doubtful
  that she would meet anything associated with the madman Magilin. The time
  was spent with Rengar had helped, the small deserted island's beach came
  foremost to her mind, and had been essential in her path to forgiving him.
  Forgiving him, she figured, had been easy, trust was different, but he was
  slowly regaining that to. The Blue trusted him in anything having to do with
  the tower, and in their partnership, but around other women, she thought it
  would be a good idea to keep him on a leash. That would not go over well,
  she decided. It was when she was about to return to their camp, that a
  detonation shook the earth. She felt saidar being wielded and stared in
  utter shock towards the tents.
  Fires raged uncontrolled through the trees, brought to life by the low
  rumbles of explosions. The shouts of natives and of Tower members echoed
  quietly to where Odessa was. She was very thankful right now that Myonia had
  insisted that she put on her black leather pants and black linen top. The
  clothing kept her nearly invisible. She pulled her waist length ebon hair
  into a tail at the nape of her neck, and tied it with a blood red ribbon.
  Taking a deep breath she moved from behind the tree, keeping an eye out for
  more of the channelers. She had already shielded and knocked three
  unconscious.
  This is what I get for taking a walk. She thought angrily to herself. It
  was to late to worry about that now. The Dominai kept her full attention at
  getting back to camp in at least one piece. Moving as cautiously as
  possible, she moved towards the saidar she felt being channeled. Off to the
  right, the sounds of thrashing and swearing came. A man shot out of the
  trees, heading for the camp. She didn't recognize him. Channeling a rod of
  air, Odessa batted him over the head. He dropped like a pole-awed ox.
  Trying to restrain and failing, a grin spread across the Dragonsworn's face.
  This was not as bad as she remembered.
  Swiftly, she checked to make sure the man was thoroughly out, and hurried
  right along. It was about three hundred yards for the camp that an arm
  snaked out from a tree and caught her around her waist. She let out a
  muffled yelp and tried to escape. But the arm was locked like a vice around
  her. Forcibly she was dragged farther back into the trees. Tying to go for
  the source, the petite woman hit what felt like a solid wall. Shielded! Her
  mind screamed, and she clawed at the shield, but in vain. More than one held
  the shield. Not again, please not again. She terror raced through her
  veins, her blood feeling like it had turned to ice.
  She was tossed harshly to the ground. Blood ran freely from the corner
  of her mouth, but she sneered. Looking up, she stared into a face that
  seemed familiar. She knew the man, remembered him quite clearly, in fact.
  With as much dignity as she could muster, she pulled herself to her feet,
  refusing to dust herself off. Her fear was a palpable thing, but she refused
  to let it rule her. He sat atop a huge black mare, with a flowing mane, and
  feathering at her hooves, and she rolled her eyes as if she feared the man
  who rode her. His face was unblemished and what some would say beautiful.
  His nose was long and aquiline, and his cheekbones were high. He had large
  chin, with a dimple like cleft, and a full mouth, that was spread in a small
  smile. However, his clear blue eyes were cruel, evil.
  "What is a hound of Magilin doing so far from his master's domain?" She
  spat. "I would think that you would be on your belly yelping and defecating
  at his feet for a small scrap of authority, Gavin. Instead of leading this
  poorly trained rabble. I doubt that any of them could hold my shield without
  you."
  He chuckled, a rasping terrible sound. "Ah, what a catch. Never would I
  have imagined that we would have found such a prize in our nets. My master
  was displeased when his favorite wench disappeared. Who knows what he'll
  reward me with when I turn you over to him."
  Odessa's knees went weak, and it was all she could do to stand. "I think
  that maybe you should. I was sorry I didn't have a chance to murder the son
  of a goat before I took my leave of him. It is a mistake I shall not make
  twice."
  "I highly doubt that, my lady." He sneered. "My rabble as you say, is
  sent from Magilin as a greeting to you all. You, however, are a fortuitous
  prize I had not expected. My master will have his fill of you, before he
  dispatches you. I think that maybe I shall take my fill now." A glare at
  the direction of the other two men, and they left without a word. He nudged
  the horse closer, taking one arm, and pulling her up towards him. As
  unobtrusively as she could, she reached down into one of her calf high boots,
  pulling a long Dirk from it's hidden sheath. Gavin put her in the saddle in
  front of him. The foul smelling man, pressed his lips to hers, hard enough
  to bruise. The dagger flashed in the fire light, and plunged into his chest.
  He pulled back quickly a look of shock and disbelief on his face.
  "You've had you fill." The Dominai murmured. Unceremoniously the blue
  kicked him from the saddle, twisted around so she rode correctly, and spurred
  the frightened mare towards the camp. Without their leader, she prayed the
  band would fall apart. The welcoming party was so spread out though, it
  would take a long time for word to reach all of them. That meant more
  fighting. The mare dodged through the trees with little effort, Odessa
  pressed to her neck, talking quietly to her. They reached the Camp quickly.
  The fighting was spread randomly, and the small party from the Tower was hard
  pressed. The Dragonsworn spied one of her sisters, she couldn't tell who,
  being pressed from three sides. Testing the shield, she found it dissipated,
  and she grabbed the source, moving the black towards them at a canter. She
  came on them, not slowing. The warhorse reared, striking one of the
  attackers with a steel shod hoof, while she clubbed the other down with air.
  The other was beat down by Tareena.
  Her fellow Dragonsworn nodded her thanks, and headed off towards another
  set of men. Odessa spun the mare, searching for Rengar. She sensed him, but
  could not see him. Shaking her head, she knew it was futile right then, and
  another madman came at her. With a wild cry, the tall black reared, and the
  Dominai fought on.
  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  Well, this RP sucked wild goat feet, but I thought it a good idea to get
  Odessa with the rest of the group. And you all know, I am hard pressed to
  write an RP without including an equine, so I included one. Think of it as
  my trademark. :::Grins:::: Well enjoy, or suffer distaste. It's good to be
  back, I think. :::runs:::

  Jen~
  Odessa Jennar~

 "OW!" With a howl of pain and rage Shea beheld her right hand, useless and
  throbbing as her lifeblood flowed out of the long cut across the top of it.
  If the madman who'd attacked her hadn't assumed that she, like most people,
  was right handed, she wouldn't have been able to fight. As it was, she
  gripped her sword and expertly ran the man through. "Idiot," she muttered
  angrily, wiping the blood off onto his own clothing.
  A few paces away a raven-haired Dragonsworn riding a magnificent black
  mare fought for her life. Lithe and on foot, Shea ran behind and around the
  horse, confronting more attackers on that side. By now she was probably
  shielded from the Source, but unlike the other women of the Black Tower,
  she'd been channeling for so short a time that it made no difference either
  way. Shea was a Warder's daughter, and combat came to her more naturally
  than weaving strips of Fire and Air and Whatever Else Have You in any case.
  "You will die, heathen!" screamed her opponent. For a response she
  kicked him in the chest. The man fell back, snarling, and onto the sword of
  one of his own compatriots. Smiling grimly, Shea carefully knocked the
  swordbearer out senseless. In almost eighteen years of her life, she'd never
  seriously hurt a soul. She'd made her first kill today, and her second and
  third for that matter, but the thought bothered her less that she would have
  expected. We're in a Land of Madmen, she reflected. I still haven't hurt a s
  oul.
  Warily the scraggly group of Dragonsworn scanned the trees that
  surrounded them. No new dangerous figures broke the forest's eerie tangle of
  shadows and light, and the Novitiate took the opportunity to examine her
  right hand. "This will require Healing," she observed soberly. Panic danced
  at the edge of her consciousness, tempting her with questions about what
  would happen if she could find no Healer, or if the blood wouldn't coagulate
  properly. Shea gritted her teeth, guarding against both the pain and the
  panic, and set to constructing a makeshift bandage for herself. She squatted
  easily as she wrapped black fabric from the clothing of one of the fallen
  around her hand, dividing her attention between making the bandage and
  listening for enemy.
  "Well," she said, holding out her arm experimentally and looking at her
  work critically, "it's about as big as a melon, but other than that --"
  The mounted Dragonsworn, who had been occupied with the horse, which Shea
  suspected she was not the original owner of, spoke suddenly. "Here come more
  of them." Her face contorted in a grimace of recognization. Obviously these
  were old "friends" come back for more. Shea stood up with a shake of her
  head, designed to flick blood-splattered blond hair out of her eyes, and
  prepared for more of the battle.
  Thoughtfully she punched her first attacker in the face with her right
  hand and its bulbous wrappings. He grunted and fell. Laughing with delight,
  Shea dove into the fight, using both her sword and her newest weapon in the
  skirmish for the Tower's survival.

  Shea, a.k.a. Rae
  Novitiate With Big Bloody Hand.

 Saidin gushed through him as if it was a waterfall, rapidly tumbling down
  into the deep pool of his mind. He was holding as much as he could, yet it
  still didn't seem enough as he sent fireballs flying into yet another group
  of mad channellers.

  He patted his leg as he fought, constantly reassuring himself that the
  precious map was still in his grasp. That was their only hope if they were to
  find the ter'angreal. So far it had proved invaluable, providing them with
  much needed directions. Even that fateful fountain was on the map - it
  instructed them to travel east after the fountain.

  No...he musn't lose that at any cost...suddenly a native jumped in front of
  him, waving a crude metal instrument, looking a lot like a scythe. Stevan
  quickly drew his sword and the two weapons clashed as they fought. Fight
  weapon with weapon, saidin with saidin, that's what he always thought.

  Finally Stevan thrust the sword into the native's side...but as he did so the
  native launched one final attack, which sliced into the Asha'man's leg,
  before he fell to the ground and died. As Stevan clutched his wound, the map
  fell out of the new tear in his garment.

  First he could only look in horror as he saw the map in two pieces, then as
  he looked more closely he noticed an instruction that he had never seen
  before, "To get to the fire mountain, follow those who use the Fire of the
  Mind."

  His mind whirred into gear as everything fell into place. These channellers
  must be "those who use the Fire of the Mind"...so the two Storm Teams should
  let them lead them to the "fire mountain!"

  His thoughts were interrupted as Caballein tapped him on the shoulder.
  "Tsorovan'm'hael, it seems as if these channellers want to take sacrifices to
  the gods who live in the fire mountain..." The Asha'man then stopped in
  surprise as Stevan excitedly thanked him and ran off...
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  ------------------------------------------

  OK, one of you now needs to be captured and the rest of us will follow you to
  the volcano. You could let yourself be captured...or you might be captured
  anyway. I'll write an RP on Friday or Saturday to move us into the volcano
  etc. so I want to be there by then. Who will get captured? Well...the first
  person who writes an RP about it :)

  As for the OOC lists...use them to discuss ideas for the RP and your life :)
  Just add 'OOC' at the beginning of the subject.
 

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

 
  "What are you going to do with me?" Alcinia asked as they drug her
  through the forest. She had almost gotten away once, but she had been
  caught quickly. The man who had caught her knocked her several times
  to show his displeasure. Now she knew there was no way of escape and
  had given up all hope.
  "Sacrifice!" one of the men answered. "Gods be pleased."
  A voice sounded from ahead, "Infidels!" it boomed as Alcinia looked up
  to see one of the Asha'men facing the group. He used the power to send
  blow up the ground under the feet of one of the men. He managed to
  shield the men and then they ran, dropping her to the ground.
  "Are you all right?" he asked helping Alcinia to her feet.
  "I think so," she said rubbing her wrists where the man had been
  holding her tightly. She reached up and touched the large bump on the
  back of her head. Luckily, it had not bled much and was beginning to
  scab over.
  "Umm," Alcinia said, "thanks for rescuing me. Now, if I can just find
  where they dropped my knives I will be able to fight." She looked
  through the forest as they hurried back toward the others, but could
  find no sign of the knives.

  Alcinia

 

  Ariana leaped nimbly to her feet at the first hint of a far-off explosion. Mo
  re madmen? The thought was not appealing, but there was nothing she could do
  about it. Except, of course, arm herself and hope... Leaping awkwardly, she
  caught hold of a branch above her and heaved herself onto it. It was the
  nearest weapon around, she knew. Cautiously, she inched her way to the end
  of it. And I thought limping on the ground was hard, she thought grimly. Lim
  ping on a tree makes it look like the easiest thing I ever did. She wobbled,
  and barely caught her balance. When tthe tree limb bent under her weight,
  she went to her knees and crawled further, further... Snap! Branch and
  Dragonsworn tumbled to the
  ground- luckily not too far a drop. Ariana got to her feet and placed her
  back to the tree,
  her makeshift 'staff ' at the ready.
  Just in time. Four of the crazed channellers burst into the area around her,
  howling and looking not at all intimidated by the small brown-haired cripple
  with a big stick in her hands.
  "Their mistake," Ariana murmured out loud, and swung toward the nearest. The
  hard wood caught her opponent under the chin and she met his stunned eyes for
  a split second down the weapon before he was lifted off his feet and dropped
  to the earth. The rest followed soon after, and Ariana slumped in relief-
  and shot back up again at a sudden thought. Where was the child?
  She found Skree surrounded by a very large group of ragged but extremely
  well-armed madmen. They had formed a circle around their intended victim,
  who faced them- twenty strong men- with a small knife. Quickly summing up
  the situation, Ariana abandoned the voice that called for an honorable
  attack, and just swiped the first man in the back of the head. He fell with
  a muffled "oof," and Ariana removed two more before the others realized there
  was an opponent outside the ring. Almost as one, the mad islanders turned
  back toward Ariana. Uh. Oh. Trouble. Only five remained in a ring
  around the child. Bad odds. What to do? She tried to kick her mind into
  fast gear. Try talking to them? "Why do you attack a child?" she asked
  authoritatively. "What has she done to you?" The answer came from several
  throats. "She is of the enemy, the villages outside the sacred forest!" was
  the general response. "The gods demand that she be sacrificed on the burning
  mountain!" Ariana recoiled despite herself, appalled that they would kill a
  child. And... gods? How could there be more than one Creator? God was
  something above all others; how then could there be gods, plural? Truly
  these men were mad! Ariana summoned all the cool imperiousness of a scion of
  a noble house. "Let her go." There was no plea or waver in her voice. She
  could be commanding a house servant, or a dog. But she couldn't resist
  glancing toward the girl- and saw that her captors, too, had turned to look
  at the strange, arrogant cripple who questioned their actions and demanded
  the release of a hated enemy.
  Ariana did not stop to think, or she would have faltered. Instead, she drew
  a deep breath and cried, "RUN!!" with all the force she could muster, then
  swept the nearest men into the dirt with a wild semicircle of her staff.
  Then she chucked the weapon at the heads of the madmen still standing and
  ran, herself. She hobbled after Skree who darted through the trees with many
  glances back toward her rescuer. Apparently the girl knew where she was
  going, because sooner than Ariana had begun to hope they encountered the
  camp. Panting, the Dragonsworn leaned against the nearest tree, completely
  out of breath. As soon as she could stand, she moved off, finding members of
  their party scattered around. She Healed those she found who needed the
  help, obtained another staff from the firewood pile, and finally volunteered
  to be one of the small group who would guard the perimeter while they waited
  for whoever might return to show up.
  She did see a few Black Tower members, and pointed them the way to the camp.
  Some were limping, or bleeding, but they were minor enough wounds, and the
  others at the camp could care for them. She herself needed all the energy
  she could muster, as several madmen also discovered the way to camp. Ariana
  made sure they were unconscious (and would be for a good while), then bound
  them to a tree trunk at least ten paces around. She always tried to avoid
  killing.
  Bad luck caught up to her, though. The men who had cornered Skree finally
  tracked their way to where Ariana was. She fought hard, furious that they
  would harm-kill!- a child for any reason- but fifteen to one was not a fight
  the one could hope to win. When she was backed up hard to a tree, she flung
  her staff away and channelled for all she was worth, throwing attack after
  attack at them, everything she could recall from every channnelling lesson
  she had ever taken, either with her mother, the White Tower, or the Black,
  and even some things she wasn't sure how she knew. A good many fell, either
  unconscious, injured, or dead, but in the end seven remained- and she felt
  herself shielded despite her furious resistance. Ariana did the most
  sensible thing she could think of- she promptly fell to the ground and went
  utterly limp, making herself harder to drag away and buying that much more
  time for the Tower to regroup.
  Of course, one seventy-pound cripple was not particularly hard to just pick
  up. Still, she made it as difficult as possible, scratching and biting and
  squirming. Thunk. A blow from behind impacted with her skull, and the world
  blurred. Trees and madmen shook out triple images of themselves- then
  vanished. "Two blows, after all that?" she managed to hear one of her
  captors say, astonished. "It is already damaged," the other pointed out.
  Then Ariana heard no more, having succumbed to the blackness around her.
  When she awoke, her head hurt with a fierce pounding that throbbed in time to
  her hearbeat. She tried to sit, and discovered she was bound at both wrists
  and ankles. Around her, she could barely make out blurry shapes that had to
  be the ones responsible for the bonds, but her vision was still blurred.
  Next to her was another bound captive, and her eyesight was clear enough up
  close to recognize Janara, one of her legs bearing a bloody slash. She shook
  her head, wishing this demon of a headache would go away. She could not
  channel in such pain; she lost focus when each heartbeat hurt so badly.
  Besides, a smirking man sat nearby, and she did not doubt that she was
  shielded. Summoning a moment of calm against her rising panic, she tried to
  focus on something other than her rather desperate situation. She began to
  inventory her many wounds. Though she was scratched all over, and adorned
  with several shallow sword and knife wounds, she finally decided the most
  serious injury was the blow to her head. She didn't need to feel the huge
  knot on her head to know it was there. But with a head wound like this one,
  she shouldn't sleep. The anonymous fist had hit hard enough to cause her
  blurred vision, and she wouldn't bet against a concussion. "Great," she
  muttered aloud. "I truly hope I survive this." But she was faintly
  reassured by the thought that Skree was safe with the others. She could
  hopefully tell the rest what fate awaited the captives, and guide them if
  they lost the trail. And if she told her tale, the others might realize
  Ariana must have encountered those men again, and would know where to find
  her. With a sigh, the tired Dragonsworn sat quietly and watched her captors,
  waiting till her headache wore off. It promised to be a long time.
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------

  All right, that was realllllly long, but hopefully it makes up for the long
  absence... If you need Healing, you can get it from when she was at camp,
  before she went out to guard and got caught... and Ariana does make a
  helpless enough target as a cripple, one must admit. (At least I took out
  some of the creeps with me, he he he.) If there's another captive besides
  Janara, just be somewhere out of blurry-sight-range. So- come rescue us
  before we end up gutted like lambs and roasted in a volcano; see ya at the
  "burning mountain!"

 
  Darren parried again and again, holding the madmen back so that their
  progress was a brisk retreat rather than a rout, and clearly subsequent
  death.There was no time for an attack; though many openings offered
  themselves, killing one of his attackers would only leave the other two to
  kill Tareena and Traighan... If he had had time he would have cursed his
  letting Tareena go on another mission before becoming deadly... or at least
  knowing how to keep someone off of her.
  The power leapt about him; Darren blindly allowed whichever one of the
  others was leading the weave lead it; if he thought about it, he would choke
  the whole thing. At least they had the madmen on the defense there... to
  some extent. It was a two sided fight.
  A fraction of a second opened up as the skinny, muscular madman dodged
  something. [An air hammer?] Darren took the moment to think of strategy. The
  best retreat. [We aren't retreating along the path I made - that would be
  impossible - and the guiding earthquakes have unfortunately ended - but if
  we keep backing up we'll hit a swift stream, deep. It could provide
  something faster than foot for us to retreat on.]
  Parry a stab from the bulb-stomached one... almost scratch him back; with
  the other sword hold the tall one from flanking. For a moment. Retreat as he
  steps around.
  [But I'm in front, not leading the retreat! How do I tell them?]
  Parry the tall one, sidestep muscle, retreat from bulb again.
  Darren suddenly found himself in charge of the link as he felt Tareena
  fading further faster. [She's exhausted, he's exhausted. What little I
  have... there goes the link. Oh! She's cold, wet, and moving sideways. They
  have found the stream.] Darren desperately blocked the madmens' attacks. The
  bulb-belly's made it through but he had deflected it enough that it merely
  grazed his thigh. [Not too bad. The woman, where is she? Here I am - Jump!]

  The stream pulled him quickly away from the bank. It was hardly an effort to
  sink underwater in evasion - his swords tuged down in an almost irresistable
  weight. The fight was over for a moment, and his body had found out.His
  extreme exhaustion came over him like the stream, and only by will to live
  did he push off the bottom to the surface for a quick breath. A lightning
  bolt struck the water around him, but the current diffused, only shocked
  him. The shock made him inhale - another trip to the surface. Darren found
  that on the bottom he had enough weight that if he leaned almost all the way
  forward he could run with the current. It beat trying to swim with two
  swords in hand. In between leaps to the surface for air, he sheathed both
  swords.
  [What's that up ahead? Light burn poor underwater sight!]
  The water quickly shallowed, and he ran up to the surface. The tall madman
  had gotten ahead of him. [Probably by swimming and dropping his weapon]. The
  madman tried to burst Darren from the inside with some sort of firey
  explosion.
  Darren, for the first time since he had discovered it, could not sieze
  saidin. Desperately, he just charged. As his stomach began feeling decidedly
  warm from the attack, he made contact. The weave flew apart as they tumbled
  down a narrow, quick waterway. Each rock they flopped against struck the
  madman in the back of the skull. By the bottom of the sluice, there was no
  doubt he was dead. The first glimpse of victory gave Darren a little extra
  energy as he rode the dead madman into the turbulent pool at the bottom of
  the cascade.
  On a full breath of air, he was almost unconcerned as he fought the downward
  current and looked for a way out. [There, two rocks I can walk up]
  As he surfaced and caught sight of Tareena and Traighan, someone pulled his
  ankle out from under him. He twisted against the rocks to face his
  assailant. The thin, muscular man. With a bubble around his head. Darren
  pushed at him ineffectively... water held him in place.
  [NO ONE HOLDS ME DOWN!] Saidin rushed back into him.. well, a little.
  Ignoring his own bonds, Darren popped the man's bubble. The man, panicking,
  leapt, jetting himself up additionally with the water around him.
  Darren's hold on saidin began failing, and he quickly released it. A few
  moments later, Tareena's hands pulled on him, pulling him back to the
  surface. He stumbled up, and crawled ashore into a pebbly, sandy cave hidden
  from most views.
  "What happened? He just came flying up and jumped all the way up there from
  the water!" Tareena pointed up the opposite cliff, where the muscular man
  knelt, coughing up water.
  Darren forced himself to remain upright for a few more moments. "He's left,
  and the woman, and the fat one. Look out for the fat one. Tricky."
  Darren didn't feel it as Tareena dragged him further into the cave for
  momentary safety while she considered strategy.
  ******
  OOC: it looks like the rest of you encountered a bunch of incompetent
  madmen. Come ON guys, can't we have a fight where our enemies are our
  approximate equals? One of you -who had never killed, taking out three?
  without channelling? Better to stay hidden than make yourself out to be
  ultracool and dangerous. My character has an excuse, and even he's limited.
  Let's make the RP fun not by racking up the body count but by making the
  action interesting! Idle comments on how you react to being such a badass
  are... idle comments.
  Also, please pay attention to what people have said.
  Lest you think we haven't been paying attention, I'll just say we decided to
  take a break from the main action for a little skirmish action.

  May we all invent challenges worth reading,
  Luke

 
  Myiona had been deciding on a good plan for rescuing Skree when Ariana
  jumped in and started battling the attackers. A fresh wave headed for where
  she stood with her bondmate and they were forced to leave the matter in
  Ariana's hands.
  Myiona was mad now and she had stopped thinking of the attackers as human.
  She was pushing her ability to channel to the very edge, throwing everything
  she had at the attackers. It took her a few moments to realize that the
  islanders were retreating.
  When she found out what had happened with Janara, Myiona was furious. "I
  cannot believe you sent her out there like this," she yelled at Stevan. "If
  anything slows us down she will die. I do not think you thought this over
  very well."
  Mura'shar had to pull her away before things go any worse. "If anything
  happens to her," she muttered. "If someone had to go it should have been
  me."

  Vicky
  aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
  Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 "We will be alright," Janara said leaning over to Ariana. A few of the
  madmen picked up Janara and moved her away from Ariana. "No talking, No
  talking" one said. Another pointed at Janara and repeated "bad, bad, bad"
  over and over. He shook his head and walked away - still repeating the
  words. A few of the men started backing away. A large man with no hair
  stepped forward. A couple of the crazy men nodded their heads at him as if
  they were saying "yes". When the others noticed him they did the same.
  The large man smiled and walked around the smaller men who just continued
  to nod at him. Finally the large man held up both his hands in the air as
  if he was surrendering. The other men stopped nodding.
  "Got fingers pleased under the rock which ate a bird," the large man
  boomed. Three men picked up Janara. Their grip was comfortable but
  strong. Three other men picked up Ariana.
  "Night awards rose and planning! Men time and flies never talk around
  rural adventures!" There was a sudden uproar of hooting from the men
  gathered around.

  All of a sudden Janara and Ariana's captures started to run. There was
  chanting again. It didn't hurt Janara's head this time. She wasn't sure
  of the exact words but it sounded like
  "today happened long ago
  the future the Gods can know
  Today happened long ago
  now the future,
  fire men can know"
  Janara started to shiver. Her eyes began to water and everything blured.
  She felt off balane for a few moments. Her stomache ached and she thought
  she would throw up. Her eyes adjusted again. She looked around but didn't
  recognize anything. There was a large structure in front of her. Ariana
  was being carried behind her. Janara thought the structure was a dwelling
  of some sort. It had smooth walls and was black. She and the men around
  her were reflected in the walls. A man dressed in black fur stepped out of
  the wall. Janara could see no opening. He went up to her and touched her
  head. Then his eyes turned deep black and he touched what seemed like the
  outside of every part of Janara's body. He stopped and held his hand just
  under her stomach for a few moments. A smile crossed his lips. Janara was
  breathing heavy. The touch was tender but Janara nearly fainted in fear.
  The man's eyes became normal again. There was some whispering from the
  other men. Then the man in fur went over to Ariana and did what appeared
  to be the same thing. Ariana was shaking all over.
  "Take them in!" the man in fur said. All the other people started to
  nodd at him and slowly moved into the black structure. They seemed to walk
  through the wall and the men who held Janara were headed there too! Janara
  looked around. Something was wrong, did time pass? It was too dark, it
  seemed like dusk and it was cool. She looked up and gasped. They were in
  the shadow of a huge black mountain! Janara reached back to her bond and
  discovered that she could only faintly feel La'rece and Ivan.
  "Ariana, escape! Escape anyway you can but escape! Let the others know
  where we are!" Janara yelled back as she disappeared into darkness.
  ________________________________________________________
  Janara Dragonsworn
  Bondmate to La'rece and Ivan

 

  "Ariana, escape! Escape anyway you can but escape! Let the others know
  where we are!" Janara yelled back as she disappeared into darkness.

  Right. Escape?? That'll happen when.... "When you make it, girl," she
  answered herself. So. What to do, bound hand and foot and sore head to toe?
  "Here goes nothing!" Which would probably be what it accomplishes... Oh,
  well. Ariana quickly decided the first thing to do would be- get herself
  untied. She dropped to the floor, which apparently did not alarm the men
  around her too much. Next step. Doubling over, she cautiously pulled her
  arms from behind her back over her ankles, then around, until they were
  before her. She had a brief memory flash of her mother and father teaching
  her that trick, in case she was ever captured by Whitecloaks.
  Her arms now in front of her, she curled her knees up to her chest and began
  working at the rope that held her ankles. A furtive glance made sure her
  captors had not noticed. Finally, after what seemed an hour of frustrated
  working at the coarse rope, she felt some give in the binding. She moved her
  feet slightly. Definitely looser. She twisted awkwardly back to see the man
  who stood behind her, and ever...so...slowly... pivoted around on the wooden
  floor. Then with one vicious kick she took his legs out from under him,
  dropping him to his knees. Unfortunately, he yelled in surprise as he
  tumbled to the floor, but Ariana got in another double kick, higher than her
  first. High enough to bend him over in agony, in fact, and then she snatched
  the knife in his belt with her teeth. While he was gasping, and his comrades
  were turning to see what had happened to the man guarding the crippled
  prisoner, Ariana fumbled the knife to hold it between her knees and slashed
  her wrist bonds on it, praying to the Creator it was sharp enough.
  It was. Free, she sprang to her feet, ignoring the pain of her bruises, cuts
  and stiff muscles. Briefly, she considered hitting the man again- but he was
  down, and her sense of honor wouldn't let her. Just as briefly, she
  considered a way to free Janara, but there was no possible way. The only she
  could do was flee, and she did so almost before the thought was completed.
  She did snatch her belongings as she passed the door, though, and fumbled
  through the pouch of healing supplies she carried to find the pain-blockers.
  She choked down four, a third of the remaining supply, and almost immediately
  hastened her step. She had enough time- she hoped- to reach the others now,
  time in which she could function as though there was no pain. She cast a
  quick look behind her, and saw some of the madmen were chasing her. Light,
  help me now. A memory intruded, Janara's face as she yelled to Ariana to
  flee. Light, help her. I have the painkillers to help me. The pills were
  fast, though, as she well knew, and she began to feel confident that she
  would escape her pursuers, as another look proved that they were dropping
  back, reluctant to chase her far from where the action was. It also revealed
  that the man she had attacked was with them. "Go bite a Whitecloak," Ariana
  yelled at him fiercely, knowing he wouldn't understand but not caring. Then
  she ran without looking back, searching for the camp.

  OK, more when i get back from the hair appt...

 Tareena hurriedly drug Darren into the cave, returning to the opening
  momentarily to erase all signs of their entrance. Quietly she stood just
  inside the entrance, looking inward and focusing her concentration. She was
  physically drained but the small respite in the cave had allowed her the
  ability to once again touch Saidar. It was almost painful, the usual
  blissful sweetness not coming as easily as normal. She wove the weaves from
  memory, a lesson learned a long time ago. What they needed was a place to
  hide and rest. All three of them were exhausted with no end in sight.
  Concentrating, she tied off the weave and heaved a sigh of relief. She was
  happy with her work. Now, if anyone looked at the cave they would see around
  it instead of in it. She had used the weave to bend the light, forcing a
  person's eyes to move past the opening. There, that takes care of the ones
  chasing us. Now I must see to the ones inside.
  Moving to the center she wove fire, causing the cave to slowly warm
  their river soaked bodies. She noticed that Traighan was shivering and she
  knew it wasn't all from the cold. He had used a tremendous amount of energy
  by the fountain with his "fireworks" display and then had little rest before
  the fighting began with the madmen. Moving over next to him, she gently
  touched his forehead, placing a soothing hand upon him. He appeared to
  barely notice her touch, not a good sign.
  Sighing, she moved over to Darren who had his eyes closed to the light.
  "How are you feeling?" she asked, wishing there was something more she could
  do. His reply was muffled, buried under the arm flung over his face. She
  wanted to touch him, bring some kind of comfort but she wasn't sure of
  herself so she kept her hands in her lap.
  She could feel the heat finally seeping into her bones, along with an
  overwhelming since of exhaustion. What a day this has been. First I
  embarrass myself in front of everyone, then Darren completely takes my feet
  out from underneath me by telling me he loves me. How in the hell am I
  supposed to react to that? It's like a see saw, one minute he acts like I
  am the most stupid creature in existence and the next he supposedly loves me.
  I can't handle that. What if I told him I loved him? Would it really
  matter? I've heard the stories, he likes women, a lot of them...what could
  he possibly see in me? I'm just convenient right now. Bah, I need to think
  and I certainly can't do it right now. I need sleep and food.
  Traighan moaned and turned onto his side, coughing and mumbling under
  his breath. Worry forged a path down her forehead. He should be getting
  warm by now but he is still shivering. Once again forcing herself to move,
  she partially lifted him onto her lap, wrapping her arms around him.
  Providing him with needed warmth, she settled herself into a more comfortable
  position. Each time he became agitated, she would hold on tightly, riding
  the wave of his inner turmoil. Every so often she would catch Darren jerking
  awake and then easing back down onto the cave floor, searching for elusive
  sleep. The night went on. Eventually she, too, slept.

 
  "Wait here until you get your strength back," Caballein said. He
  headed off toward Stevan to make his report. Alcinia sat down wearily
  and took a small sip from the fountain hoping it would dull the pain
  from the abuse she received from the men who had captured her.
  She closed her eyes and must have dozed off for a few minutes. Angry
  yelling made her open her eyes. Myiona was upset about something and
  screaming at Stevan. Alcinia's head hurt too badly to concentrate on
  the words and she closed her eyes again. She knew that sleeping with a
  head injury was supposed to be dangerous, but she could not seem to
  stay awake.

  Alcinia

 

  *zing* Crimson blossomed across the man's throat as La'rece turned back to face
  the her next dancing partner. At one with her sword, the Green fought her
  opponents, completely focused on the dance at hand. Ivan had taught her well.
  The man facing her was far from an expert swordsman or warrior, but his madness
  gave him an edge in his total disregard for safety.

  A sudden pulse in her bond caused La'rece's concentration to waiver for just a
  moment. Something was up with Janara. She was injured ... and ... A stinging
  across her thigh brought the Dragonsworn back to the fight. "Ow!" Looking down,
  La'rece saw where the nasty little man had managed to inflict a shallow cut,
  through her leather pants, thank you very much! Glaring at the man with his
  insipid grin, La'rece still unable to channel, smiled back, her stance
  deceptively casual. As the man chuckled and skittered forward, La'rece bent her
  left leg and spun sweeping her right arm around. *Thunk* She didn't need to
  see to know the man's head was now appreciatively separated from his body.

  Looking around, La'rece determined the direction Janara was in. Scanning the
  battle, the Dragonsworn located her other bondmate, Ivan Gregorian. Moving
  toward him, La'rece killed madmen with complete disregard.

  "Somethings happened to Janara" she said.

  Ivan nodded. Together they stood amidst the fighting. As one they turned their
  eyes toward Janara's direction. The bond seemed to fade slightly. Janara was
  being taken away!

  Just as both began to move to go help, a renewed onslaught came in the fighting
  ..

  *Hang on, Janara* La'rece thought. *We're coming*

  Lauren
  La'rece Barata'gan, bondmate to Ivan and Janara
  Dragonsworn, Marked, Blademaster

 Talia withdrew her knife from the body of the madman who'd dared attempt
  to attack Alan while his back was turned. Since her first kill a few years
  ago, it has somehow gotten easier to think of the dead bodies as mere
  driftwood or obstacles that got in the way. A disturbing thought to say the
  least. Turning toward the clatter of sword meeting.. whatever the madmen
  carried, Talia twirled her knives in her hands and prepared to do whatever
  might be needed to help the Black Tower advance.. to the Fire Mountain.
  Casting a watchful eye over the small clearing she found herself in,
  including Alan and a few others, she saw the smoking rim of the fire
  mountain in the distance.
  Talia grunted as an attacker swiped the blunt end of his scythe-like
  weapon into her belly. Doubling over, she scolded herself for not paying
  attention. The strike was followed by another hit in the small of her back.
  Talia gasped as she struggled to gain control of the situation by trying
  to roll over and toss a knife at her attacker. He was prepared for such a
  meneuver, ducking his head and pressing the butt of his weapon into her
  throat. Only now did the thought occur to her that she might be able to use
  the Power to defend herself. New to the Dragonsworn title, she still only
  thought of the Power when she was in a bind. Only this time, when she
  reached for Saidar.. it wasn't there. Another thing she noticed was that
  her other recourses were unavailable as well. Her limbs couldn't move..
  held by some unseen force. Saidin... A shiver ran through her spine.

  When it looked grim for Talia's survival.. a sudden unseen force blasted
  her attacker off his feet and a few yards away from her. She looked up to
  see Alan.. and he wasn't happy. He hurried to her side and helped her up
  with a steady arm.

  "Are you okay?" He asked, concerned.

  With a quick nod, Talia assured him that she was well enough to defend
  herself. She was still mad at herself for not paying close enough
  attention, and Alan most likely felt that anger within her. He nodded,
  accepting her answer and turning toward the fray.. "They fight like they
  know what they are doing.." He muttered quietly..

  "Quite.." Talia answered, not on for words when danger lurked everywhere.
  She twirled her knives about again, preparing to fight once more. A
  deafening blow -- with Saidin apparently -- shook the ground which Talia,
  Alan, and a few others stood on. Already shaken by great bruises and other
  injuries, Talia lost her footing and slipped.. Unfortunately, she slipped
  not on the even ground where Alan and the others stood, but onto a slanting
  rivet in the ground that didn't look too natural to her. Was it an
  irrigation canal? Whatever it was.. Talia was having a very interesting
  ride away from the others. "Blood and bloody ashes.." she grunted in her
  clenched teeth..

  The ride's end was accompanied by a smack into a tree and falling into a
  small river. Sputtering the water out from her breathing passageways, Talia
  attempted to stand.. Leaning against the offending tree, she looked up the
  steep she just fell from and shook her head.. "Blood and bloody ashes.. How
  am I going to get back up there?" Rubbing the back of her hand across her
  now cut and bruised cheek, she looked about the area for any clue as to an
  easier way upward. Talia heaved a small sigh.. "Well.. better get
  started.."

  And that's when the netting trap sprang.. and there hung a very frustrated
  Talia Daimar, dangling from a tree. "An animal trap.. I should have
  known.." Talia muttered to herself.. reaching for a knife with which to cut
  this netting down.. She knew better than to try using Saidar to get down.
  It would draw unneeded attention.. Muttering a curse on the thick rope, she
  began her work on it.. hoping she wasn't missing too much action..

  ~Talia Daimar
  ~Dragonsworn

 Myiona took a deep breath and calmed herself down. There was still fighting
  going on back in the forest, and Mura'shar seemed anxious to get back into
  the battle. She looked and saw Alcinia slumped near the fountain and
  wondered what had happened.
  Myiona hurried to her side and embraced the source, delving her. Alcinia's
  eyes fluttered opened. "You look horrible," Myiona said. "What happened to
  you?" Alcinia spoke as Myiona speeding up the healing process.
  "Captured," she whispered. "They were not very gentle, but Caballein
  rescued me before they got too far."
  Myiona realized that time would have to heal the rest. "I cannot do any
  more," she admitted. "Maybe someone else can do more." Myiona looked
  around wondering where everyone else was.
  Alcinia replied, "I'll be fine." Her eyes closed again as Myiona walked
  back to Mura'shar.
  "Okay," Myiona said with a determined look. "Now they have made me really
  mad. Let's go finish this little battle so we can get this whole trip over.
  I am tired of being dirty and tired of fighting."

  Vicky
  aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
  Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 
  Mura'shar could see that the sight of a wounded Alcinia made Myiona's
  blood boil. He wished there was something he could do, but Myiona was by far
  the better Healer of the two. Once she had done all she could, they returned
  to the forest to hunt down the remaining attackers.
  The fighting was growing more widely scattered. The sounds of combat can
  still be heard in the distance, and evidence of recent fighting was
  everywhere, Saidar and saidin filled the air, but for some time Mura'shar saw
  no trace of their attackers. He remained suspended in the Void anyway, ready
  to seize saidin at a moment's notice. The goose bumps he had told him
  Myiona was holding saidar as well.
  Mura'shar was getting worried that the channelers may double back and
  counterattack while the Black Tower was spread out so thin. It was a vague
  worry, though. Their enemies seemed to favor a direct, en-masse assault.
  Nothing fancy. That's probably what has been keeping us alive, they don't
  back each other up.
  They reached a clearing about a half mile from the campsite. Several
  bodies were strewn about carelessly. None were Black Tower, but Myiona
  examined them anyway. If any were still alive, they might be able to answer
  some questions about these Madmen and their volcano. Mura'shar kept watch in
  case of a trap.
  As Myiona went from body to body, trying to find a spark of life to
  rekindle, Mura'shar saw movement behind one of the trees. He turned to warn
  Myiona when something slammed into his brain. His mind was on fire! His
  vision blurred. The Void shattered and saidin fled. When he could see again.
  There was a woman standing at the edge of the clearing now. SHe was
  plain, with several viscous looking scars on her face. Her nose had been
  broken several times. Clearly a vetran of many battles. Her lips wer curled
  into a sneer. But Mura'shar noticed none of these things. SHe was the most
  beautiful woman he'd ever seen and would do anything for that radiant smile.
  The woman smiled and put a finger to her lips. Mura'shar understood. He
  was to be quiet. She beckoned for him to follow her. He hesitated. There
  was something wrong here. Shouldn't he stay here with Myiona? Something
  told him it would be dangerous to leave the clearing. The woman looked at
  him, and the burning senation in his brain returned. His sense of danger
  fated to a tiny buzzing.
  He followed the woman while Myiona's back was turned. She whispered for
  him to enter a thicket and wait for her. Again the sense of danger buzzed in
  his head, but he ignored it now. The mysterious woman was pleased that he
  was obeying. That's good enough for him. As he left the clearing. He
  didn't see the woman take a quick look around to see if Myiona noticed
  anything. Nor did he notice when she drew a knife and followed him.
  ___________________________________
  OOC Mura'shar is being Compelled to go off alone so he can be disposed of
  quietly, just so everyone knows:)

  Jake
  Marked Asha'man

 Exhausted but content that the madmen had not followed her, Ariana limped to
  a halt in a clearing about thirty paces across. Looking up, she noted that
  there was enough of a gap in the forest canopy for what she intended. She
  put herself to work, though by rights she ought to have collapsed some time
  ago. Vaguely she realized that she was running on sheer momentum and the
  potent painkillers, a damaging proposition, but there was no choice.
  With all the speed she could gather, she piled up wood in the center of the
  clearing, then pulled the only knife she carried from its sheath in her
  cloak. Not designed for fighting, the blade was a common workman's knife,
  somewhat dull and certainly not of the best (or even close to the best) metal
  available for blades. Still, it worked just fine for carving out a fire pit,
  which was what she carried it for- that and other mundane tasks. She built a
  fire in the dirt pit and kindled it with her firestriker, leery of
  channelling after her near escape. Once it was going strongly, she laid her
  cloak down just far enough away to avoid scorching it. Then she pulled the
  meager supplies from her packs and laid them all out. There was very little,
  indeed; the knife, two canteens full of water, eight of the dangerous black
  pills, some other assorted herbs and remedies, the firestriker, two days'
  worth of trail food (two strips of dried meat and a handful of hard biscuit;
  it seemed the madmen had gotten everything edible except for the unappetizing
  rations), and her staff were the extent of her worldly goods right now. With
  motions that grew ever slower, she pulled out the food and hacked the strips
  of meat in rough thirds. She could not subsist for very long on the small
  portions, but she knew water was the more pressing concern. Gathering all
  the stuff back into her pack, she stumbled to the fire's edge. There
  remained only one thing to do.
  Tentatively, she embraced saidar. She could not feel the pain she knew the
  hold should cause, and it sent warning bells through her mind, but she didn't
  feel the sweet, sweet joy that the Source usually brought, either. Very,
  very bad, Ariana, she thought. If you can't feel that, you're in extremely
  bad case. Still, she couldn't stand here worrying. Drawing a deep breath,
  she reverse-shielded the campsight so that no channelling would be detected
  within the boundaries. Then she pulled the equivalent weave on the shields
  she already wore, hiding her innate ability to channel. She sighed again and
  wished for a tree to lean against. She could feel the energy this was
  taking from her, but still no sensations of pain or pleasure. You're walking
  the edge of a precipice, Ariana, and even if you don't fall, the edge is
  sharp enough to slice you in two. It was imminently true- even if she didn't
  just collapse and kill herself from the drain on her empty reserves, if she
  still somehow fought enough to hold on to the Source, if she grew weak enough
  saidar would escape her hold and kill her anyway. She shivered. "Last
  thing," she mumbled aloud, trying to keep her focus. She called Fire and
  Air, wrapped them around each other, and set a brilliant, heatless, and very
  bright fireworks display in the middle of her fire. The madmen had already
  left the area, so the only ones who would see it would be the Black Tower
  members. The glowing light display formed balls of brilliance that rocketed
  high above the hole in the treetop canopy, then exploded in a burst of fiery
  sparks. At least three balls were in the air at any given time, so there was
  no chance of it being missed. Ariana tied off the weave and stumbled toward
  her cloak. She had fought hard in the initial battle and received several
  minor scratches scrapes and nicks, then suffered the blows and abuse of her
  captors, followed by being forcibly hauled through the forest atop a man's
  shoulders bound very uncomfortably and the circulation going out of her hands
  and feet from the ropes. On top of that, she had forced her stiff body to
  let her escape, then ran far faster than she truly could by the aid of drugs.
  Now her various parts were complaining quite loudly at this regimen of
  abuse.
  "Still, I hope that flaming..."she stopped her profanity "fool...hurts
  tonight, too." A weary grin broke out. "He ought to. I think I kicked him
  hard enough."
  Quickly she scanned her injuries; nothing was particularly dangerous in and
  of itself, though the sum of them all was very painful. "At least my vision
  is back to normal." She was extremely grateful for that- it meant she could
  sleep. First, though, she fumbled a piece of trail ration out of her pack
  and managed to get it down. Sleep... she dropped onto her cloak and was out
  before she hit the ground completely.

  Ok, i don't believe in super-people, so you're going to find one wrecked
  Healer when you finish fighting and follow the beacon.... No one can do
  everything. (The hard part is deciding what's worth doing- and what doing it
  is worth.) Luck! ~E

 Myiona was checking the bodies of the fallen, and was not paying attention
  to anything else. She realized that Saidar was being channeled nearby. As
  she stood up to warn Mura'shar, she noticed that he had disappeared. She
  could feel him through the bond, but his mind was strange.
  "Light blasted man," she muttered trying to focus on where he might be.
  After getting a sense of direction, Myiona slipped through the forest. She
  came upon another small clearing and saw Mura'shar standing with his back to
  her. She almost called his name, but something in his stance seemed odd.
  Myiona caught a glimpse of someone standing in front of him. She quickly
  and quietly made her way around so that she was closer and could could get
  an unobstructed view of this person. An odd looking woman stood before
  Mura'shar, surrounded by the glow of Saidar.
  The woman was smiling at Mura'shar and he had an entranced look upon his
  face. Myiona considered her options. She could go charging in, but the
  woman would know she was being attacked and would either kill Mura'shar or
  use him as a shield. So could use the power, but it could also cause more
  harm than good.
  Myiona pulled out the knive that Alcinia had given her. The girl from
  Mayene had given her several lessons, but Myiona had never seemed to master
  the art. Still, it seemed the best choice. After careful aim, she let the
  knife fly and then ran out after it. The knife did manage to hit the woman,
  but only with the hilt. It broke the woman's concentration enough for
  Myiona to get close enough to attack with her sword.
  Using both the sword and the power, Myiona drove the woman away from
  Mura'shar and deeper into the forest. The woman was now clawing and hitting
  at the Dragonsworn with her knife. Myiona tripped over a branch and the
  other woman moved in triumphantly.
  The woman screamed as she attacked with a wicked looking knife. "I've had
  enough," Myiona yelled raising the branch and swinging it with all of her
  might. The branch made contact with the woman's temple, sending her
  sprawling to the ground. Myiona grabbed the knife and straddled her to
  finish the job, but the woman was already dead.
  She walked back to where Mura'shar was still standing with a silly smile on
  his face. Taking advantage of his stupor, Myiona stepped up and gave him a
  long kiss. It almost surprised her when he kissed her back. Myiona took a
  step back and looked at him wondering if he even knew who he was kissing.

  Vicky
  aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
  Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 She was sleeping when she felt the icy cold of the power being used
  upon her. Alcinia opened her eyes to see Myiona kneeling beside her.
  "You look horrible," Myiona said. "What happened to you?"
  She tried to explain but could only manage a few words. "Captured,"
  Alcinia whispered. "They were not very gentle, but Caballein rescued
  me before they got too far."
  "I cannot do any more," Myiona said. "Maybe someone else can do
  more."
  "I'll be fine," she said closing her eyes and hoping that when she
  opened them again she would feel better.
  As she dozed, Alcinia dreamed about the time she had spent in Mayene as
  a thief. They had been difficult days, but there was also a bit of
  excitement at being able to get away with something. The danger of it
  was exciting.
  Alcinia sat up suddenly and looked around. "Oh no," she said as she
  realized what had happened. She tried to stand up but the ground was
  moving beneath her, or maybe it was that bump on the back of her head.
  Either way, Alcinia knew that standing was not a good idea. She looked
  at the fountain and thought that another drink sounded good.

  Alcinia

 
  Blood and bloody ashes! Stevan cursed silently in his mind. He had only
  meant one of them to be captured, not two! May the Light help Ariana and
  Janara...he would almost certainly lose his status as Tsorovan'm'hael if they
  came to any harm...
  And one of the highest ranked Dragonsworn didn't like it either. He
  cringed when he remembered Myiona's furious words being thrown into his face.
  But something had to be done...
  It was then when he glimpsed the fire. It was quite small, yet easily
  noticable amongst the mass of forest all around them. Sighing with relief, he
  now knew which way the Storm Teams should go...even if Ariana and Janara had
  been injured...or worse...at least the rest of them now knew where to go.
  Stevan pointed towards the fire, "Maelstrom, Haza! We head in this
  direction!" At the sound of his voice, the Asha'man and Dragonsworn under his
  command began to rally their fighting towards the deeper part of the forest
  to which he had pointed.
  He quickly surveyed the battle scene to see if anyone was having
  difficulties. Three of them had already been taken dead today...each death
  filling his mind with a filth greater than the taint. But he didn't have
  further to look than his own mind. He could feel Andraia, her heart beating
  fast, and her mind emotionless as always...but fear kept flickering in...
  It didn't take long to look before he found her either. She was
  confronted by a male channeler, who Stevan could sense as being quite strong
  in the Power. The man was obviously thinking about more than killing, his
  eyes kept glancing down at Andraia's body and his tongue kept sliding over
  his lips.
  As Stevan approached, the man turned towards him, sensing saidin in him.
  A grimace of rage appeared in his face...to him it appeared that the Asha'man
  was a "challenger" to his manly superiority...how animal-like could these
  people get? With that a fireball shot from the madman's hand, and it took
  most of Stevan's strength to block it with a shield of Air...and even with
  that he was thrown back three metres.
  "Link!" he cried in desparation.
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  -------------------------------------------

  Please move this RP along towards the volcano! I've got a nice RP written for
  it too... :)

  Steve
  <><

 Rengar had only been on the island a few minutes, and already he could tell
  that something was wrong. It took some time before all of the members of the
  Black Tower and the Sea Folk had been healed of their injuries and were able
  to move about fairly well. It was at that time that Stevan gave them the
  orders to begin their search for the ter-angreal that had caused the
  Windfinder's sickness, and the reason Rengar know found himself swatting at
  flies buzzing around his head as he listened to Stevan give his speech.
  Having so many flies around here is strange, even if it is a bit warm around
  here, Rengar thought to himself, forcing down the urge to use the Power to
  keep the insects away from his head. It's almost as if there is the flies
  have something here that attracts them to this place, like dead...
  Sounds of battle clashed around Rengar now, and a conglomeration of hell and
  pain seemed to surround him like a smothering blanket as he attempted to fein
  the savages away with Striker. One of his attackers grunted as his sword
  passed through his intestines, with a sickening sound emitting from that
  section as Rengar quickly drew the sword out, not being able to afford to keep
  his attention on a single attacker as a seemingly infinite stream of them
  continued to come his way. With the next few motions of his sword blood had
  been sprinkled on Rengar in several different places, dotting his black coat
  and covering his face lightly. Rengar used saidin to burn a few men alive,
  hoping that those men would run around aimlessly and perhaps set more of the
  insane inhabitants of this island ablaze. As he always seemed to do when he
  was in the heat of battle, Rengar attempted to find Odessa with a quick survey
  of his eyes, knowing that she had suffered superficial wounds so far through
  the bond. Nothing to worry about, knowing her, but I wish I could see her so
  I could be absolutely sure that she was all right, Rengar thought to himself
  as the battle seemed to be dying down.
  Once the fighting had stopped the gruesome business of disposing the bodies
  of the enemies began, and Rengar did his fair share of this dirty work.
  Stevan had announced that there were to head towards a volcano of some sort,
  and that was where they were going to find what they had traveled this far to
  look for. Of course, Rengar did not think that they had ever intended on
  winding up on this continent.
  Once night fell and the Black Tower stopped to rest, Rengar found that it did
  not take him long at all to fall onto his hard cot and drift into another
  frenzied bout of dreams, of the same caliber that had been plaguing him
  recently...
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------
  "So, what should her name be?" Odessa asked, holding the small baby wrapped
  in a simple white cloth up to Rengar, who took the infant gently in his arms,
  not sure on the proper way to hold such a child. He had been poor enough at
  handling babies back when he was in his prime in the Black Tower, but now that
  everyday seemed to bring more and more fog into his mind he was become
  increasingly inadequate at even the simplest of duties. Still, with Odessa
  smiling at him with such happiness as he had not seen from her in a long time,
  he tried his best of cradle the baby in his arms, and searched all of his
  memories for an appropriate name for this baby. His child...with Odessa, of
  course.
  "How about...Faith? W-with everything I've...put you through recently
  it's...the best way I can thank you for...staying with me. I...know that I'm
  losing my grip on sanity you've...told me that much already...everyone has.
  I'm just...very proud to be able to see...my son's face...before I die,"
  Rengar said, in broken sentences that betrayed what he himself had announced.
  He could feel it; every time he breathed his seemed to be losing more and more
  of the individuality and vitality that he had possessed in his youth, and his
  thoughts became more and more disjunctioned. Of course, the worst part was
  that Rengar wasn't past forty, while Odessa had just reached that point in her
  life. She still looked as beautiful as she had when Rengar had first seen
  her, on that mission with Tor and the young one, in what seemed like a lost
  era now. An era that Rengar desperately wished he could return to, back when
  he had been firmly rooted in his mind, when he felt like he could do anything
  and nothing could stop him.
  "Don't say things like that, Rengar. You know how much it...hurts me when
  you talk about dying. You're only a nineteen and a score years of age, so I
  don't think you have to worry about dying anytime soon," Odessa told him,
  trying to keep the tears back. Even in his present state Rengar could tell
  that this past year had been very difficult for her, and at night he would
  always hear here crying herself to sleep when she thought that he was asleep.
  Of course, she tried to remain strong on the outside, and during the day you
  couldn't tell the difference between her and the woman who had been a Sitter
  at Salidar. "So, Faith it is. That's a beautiful name."
  "I'm glad...that...you like it," Rengar said, and proceeded to give Faith
  back to her mother, but Odessa put both of her hands in front of her, as if
  warding herself.
  "No, I think that you should keep her for a little while longer. I'm going
  to prepare dinner," Odessa said, moving away from Rengar and Faith slowly and
  heading outside.
  "My daughter...Faith," Rengar said, juggling the baby slightly in his hands,
  a small smile creasing his worn face. The life he was living now was so
  unlike what he had imagined his life being before he discovered his curse with
  the One Power. And it had been a curse to him, even while he had worn the
  black coat of an Asha'man; women had avoided him, his friends had all been
  narrowed down to those in the Tower, and now he was going insane. "This might
  be one...of the few times I will be able to...hold you, Faith. I...know that
  it's not likely that...you'll remember me saying this to you, but...remember.
  Please, remember me."
  And Rengar last image was that of seeing his daughters face, with everything
  suddenly growing darker; or lighter, he couldn't tell which at that point.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------
  This title has more to do with the fact that I can't remember what happens
  next in the RP as opposed to what actually takes place here. Hopefully I'll
  get back on track soon and move my character along within the current outline.
  In the meantime...here's a little character-oriented RP that ties in with the
  flashbacks that Rengar has been having recently. I have to find some way to
  fill up space, or else it wouldn't be me.
  Kyle

 
  It was pitch black now that the Rudy glow of the fires were gone. Only a
  few smoldering embers remained of the battle. Odessa trotted the big black
  back into the clearing where their camp had been, only to find it empty.
  Moving slowly through the camp, she observed what looked like a hasty
  departure on the remaining band from the tower. With Nevara, what she was
  calling the mare, she could catch up to them. However, she didn't know why
  they had left. Slowing the black to a stop, the Dominai felt along the bond,
  sensing the direction of Rengar, and more than likely the rest of the party.
  They were not far ahead. The Dragonsworn swayed in the saddle, staying
  upright be sheer will power. She needed to find them, and soon. She had
  lost much blood, and dead was not something she wanted to experience yet.
  Though, she would if the light willed it. Nudging the mare into a walk, she
  let her mind wander, trusting what little senses she had left to get her to
  Rengar.
  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  Odessa screamed, in pain and anger. The battle raged around her, and it
  was apparent right now that the party was outnumbered. The Black reared,
  striking out with her hooves, calling out in rage. It was all Odessa could
  do to keep her seat. Gritting her teeth, she ripped the serrated dagger out
  of her leg. It did more damage coming out then going in, but the blue
  silenced her pain. Glaring in the direction of her grinning assailant, she
  laid into the horse's flanks. The mare leapt forward like trollocs were
  after her, running down the man. Odessa spun around, watching a fleeing
  trio.
  With another cry, she sent the black in their direction, dodging around
  the trees.
  One by one, she ran them down, feeling nothing at their deaths. A cold had
  settled into her, one which she had never known. These were the ones who had
  harmed her and Rylliana and Tor long ago. These men, who played the
  uncivilized buffoons, but who had a throbbing metropolis not five leagues
  from here. Now, they had had every intention of murdering her brothers and
  sisters, with no more feeling than she had now. Her Aes Sedai control had
  long since disappeared, and for some reason, channeling hadn't entered her
  mind. She pinned the third and only survivor against a tree.
  "Please spare me," he mumbled. Slowly, deliberately, Odessa drew one of
  her dirks from her hip. She arched her arm to throw, but stopped, really
  taking a look at the cowering figure. His hair was almost gray, and his
  brown eyes were dull. Wrinkles decorated his skin, and the was a noticeable
  quiver in his hands. She took a deep breath, and relaxed each muscle, almost
  one at a time.
  "Leave, dog." She hissed through her teeth. "Get out of my site." She
  lowered and resheathed the dagger, and started to turn the horse. It was not
  the right choice. With a short yell, the old man lunged up, throwing a
  dagger at her exposed back. The shout gave her warning, but not enough. She
  dodged, but felt the dagger hit home, burying itself in her shoulder. She
  channeled a quick burst of fire, incinerating the man. Satisfied that he was
  no more, she squeezed her eyes shut and pulled this dagger from her shoulder.
  Looking quickly around, she quickly determined her position. She had come
  farther than she had thought. Without a thought, she turned back, to find
  the others.
  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  They were close, she knew. They had to be, before she slid from the
  horse and lost all consciousness The Dominai rode bowed over the mare's neck,
  clinging desperately to her mane. Her long hair cascaded around her, falling
  in a sheet in front of her eyes. Concentrating solely on her link with
  Rengar, she moved the black with she slight shifts of her weight, unable to
  move much more than that securely. What seemed days later, Odessa heard a
  familiar shout. Wearily, she lifted her head, seeing Rengar and a few others
  whom she knew of, but didn't now well running towards her. With great
  relief, she lowered her head, resting it on the mare's broad neck. It had to
  go better now, then it had begun.
  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  It sucks, but ah well.... I am tuckered out ... long long day. Never ever
  ever take any animals to a huge multi state type show, even if it is in town.
  It is way too much work, and it is so stressful. I highly doubt that I will
  ever show in the National western Stock show again. It may still be the
  death of me. Well, I am off to catch some Zees.....

  Jen~
  Odessa Jennar~
  Marked DragonSworn~

 
  When they reached a small clearing, the woman halted him. She whispered
  in his ear "Don't move. Stand still and be silent" He obeyed, though that
  nagging feeling of danger had returned.
  The woman raised a knife to his neck. Mura'shar gazed into her eyes.
  Now maybe she'll tell him what's going on. She could trust him. He'd never
  allow harm to come to her. He sensed Myiona was close by. Maybe she could
  help?
  The woman jerked away as something hit her. Then a figure charged out of
  the forest at her. Myiona? The fight quickly passed out of his sight, since
  he was told not to move. He hoped they didn't hurt each other too badly.
  As the two woman fought, the haziness around Mura'shar's mind began to
  diminish. What was he doing here? He had to help Myiona. But the
  Compulsion was still too strong. He bent all his concentration to moving,
  shouting, even turning his head. He was finally able to clench his fists
  when the struggle ended.
  He redoubled his efforts as he heard footsteps in the forest. When the
  figure entered the clearing. He remained totally still, waiting to see who
  won.
  Myiona stepped into his line of sight, covered in leaves and twigs, but
  very much alive. Mura'shar couldn't hide a silly grin that spread across his
  face. She's alive!
  A mischievous look came across Myiona's face as she got closer. She
  walked right up to Mura'shar and gave him a long kiss. Mura'shar had
  recovered enough to return the kiss.
  Myiona stepped back, a little startled and a little worried.
  Concentrating hard, Mura'shar managed to take a single step and wrapped his
  arms around her. He kissed her again and whispered "Thank you" He could
  feel sweat pouring from his brow with effort it took.
  Myiona smiled and wiped his brow. "Just don't go chasing every woman you
  come across here. You don't know were they've been" She laughed at his
  blush and helped him into a more comfortable position to rest.
  She told him about tracking him down and the subsequent rescue while
  Mura'shar focused on moving and speaking again. It got easier as time went
  by. Once his captor stopped channeling, the effects of the weave slowly wore
  off.
  When he could travel again, they set out again. They finally caught up
  with Stevan and most of the others. Stevan was pointing at a small signal
  fire in the distance. "Maelstrom, Haza! We head in this direction!"
  They plunged deeper into the forest. It was slow going; Mura'shar's
  movements were still a bit sluggish. Resistance had lessened, though. The
  Black Tower had been taking its toll on the Madmen.
  They finally reached the sight of the fire, and found an unconscious
  Ariana. Myiona and a few others skilled in Healing went to check on her.
  Mura'shar found himself being pulled along with Myiona. She turned to him
  and smiled "This time you're not wandering off with whatever woman happens to
  catch your eye. Mura'shar sighed. She's not going to let him forget this
  one anytime soon.

  Jake
  Marked Asha'man

 Andraia had been sitting under the tree when the battle started. Dozing
  was perhaps a better word, since she had nodded off while waiting for the
  effects of the water to wear off. No one had noticed her, her white skin,
  hair and clothing blending nearly perfectly against the silver bark. So she
  had slept on in peace, unaware of anything, until the fighting had begun.

  She had awoken to shouts and the sound of metal on metal. The feeling of
  someone channeling nearby set her skin to crawling. Peering around the truck
  of the concealing tree, she gasped. Men and women in various states of dress
  and with wild looks in their mad visages had charged the camp and her
  compatriots were fighting, using whatever came to their hand... swords,
  sticks, or if neither of those, the Power. She stood and glanced around,
  frowning, searching for a weapon. The ground around her was free of sticks
  and rocks, and she refused to carry knives, feeling that they were inelegant
  and crude. The Power... she shuddered at the thought. That much channeling
  went completely against her beliefs, and channeling itself was repugnant to
  her in extremes. No, she thought as she tossed out that idea, not channeling.
  A hand in her pocket, when withdrawn, revealed the means she would use to
  fight. A wire was coiled in her hand, picked up from the ship to keep it
  from tripping anyone but forgotten in the bustle of unloading and her
  desperation to get away from that which had made her sick. She uncoiled it
  and tugged on it a few times, but it held. If she couldn't fight overtly,
  she would fight covertly. One of her lesser used skills was garrotting. a
  talent she had learned in her travels with her ailing mother, necessary to
  earn a few coins. She had been a failer as an assassin, but not for lack of
  skill... more for lack of stomach necessary to kill in cold blood. This
  wasn't cold blood though, it was an attack, and she had no qualms over using
  any means necessary to win. She had lost her qualms long ago, anyway.

  She peered out from behind her tree again, in time to spot an errant mad
  channeler throwing fireballs from the apparently safe cover of the bushes in
  front of Andraia's hiding place. The woman was aiming at the nearest Black
  Tower fighter, distracted, and Andraia slowly raised her arms. With one
  lightning-swift move the wire was around the woman's throat and she was
  gasping, pulling at Andraia's immovable arms before sagging into a limp,
  unmoving weight. Andraia held the wire in place a moment longer, then
  released the woman and looked for her next victim.

  *Carelessness, sheer carelessness. The man had caught her as she was
  leaving her latest victim, yet another woman, since Andraia wouldn't have had
  the strength to subdue a man, and she had corner her, leering at her slim
  body, obviously not thinking of killing her for the moment. She tamped down
  a sudden burst of fear as the man began to reach for her, but the arrival of
  her bondmate, a welcome sight indeed, stopped him.
  As Stevan approached, the man turned towards him, sensing saidin in him.
  A grimace of rage appeared in his face...to him it appeared that the Asha'man
  was a "challenger" to his manly superiority...how animal-like could these
  people get? With that a fireball shot from the madman's hand, and it took
  most of Stevan's strength to block it with a shield of Air...and even with
  that he was thrown back three metres.
  "Link!" he cried in desparation.
  *Link?* she thought, *Without other women here? Not possible. Not
  logical, either. My way is better.* She snuck behind her attacker and
  jumped onto his back, her garrotte around his throat. He gave a gurgling
  howl of rage and clawed at her, his hands scratching her arms as she held on
  tightly. Finally, after what seemed an impossibly long time the man
  collapsed forward, his face purple. She held on a moment longer before
  standing up, her arms scratched and bleeding and a bruise on one cheek where
  he had somehow managed to hit her with one flailing fist.
  "Thank you," she said to Stevan with a small smile, touching his cheek
  with one delicate hand before moving off to join the others.

  Andraia Korinth

 Ariana blinked wearily, then opened her eyes. Blue... that would be sky,
  Ariana. And the white puffy things are clouds. One very important fact
  occurred to her. I don't hurt. Much, anyway. Which means I've been Healed.
  The thought was reassuring; since she didn't think the madmen were
  interested in keeping her alive, this meant she had been found by the black
  Tower. Background noise of many people and familiar accents backed up the
  observation. Ariana decided to try and stand up. She rolled over, onto her
  left side, then attained a crouch before straightening. Unless she simply
  threw herself upwards, standing from a supine condition was something she had
  to take a bit of time to do, and right now she wasn't sure she could manage
  the battle spring that would take her to her feet in one motion.
  Standing, she saw that the others had taken over her campsite, apparently
  having decided on a short (?) break before moving on to the volcano. Ariana
  decided the most she could do right now was find someone and contribute the
  information she had gotten from her short tenure as a captive, and relate her
  insights regarding the strange thing the madmen had used to travel. Where
  was the person in charge....?

  OK, short... oh well. time to go research BritLit, I have to have a research
  paper topic by Fri.

 
  Darren woke again into a near silence. Two warm sounds, and two cold sounds,
  only. The breathing of Tareena and Traighan. Outside, the flow of frigid
  water, and the pacing of feet in sand.
  {Light! they're right outside!}
  Darren silently turned his head to see out of the cave. He watched the legs
  of the muscular man pass by once, then again. He held his hand over
  Tareena's mouth, and then nudged her awake. She was, fortunately, completely
  silent. He released her, and pointed out.
  He mouthed, "How?"
  Her eyes boggled, daunted by the task of explaining her peculiar ward
  without speaking. After a moment, she just held up a finger and nudged
  Traighan awake.
  In a minute they were ready. The plan, as Darren understood it, was for him
  to run out and silently kill the man in front of the cave. He'd keep moving
  to make a harder target and jump across the river via some stepping stones.
  The other two would back out and take out anyone above them on the cliff.
  Darren crouched on the balls of his feet, readied himself, and lunged. As he
  came out of the cave, the muscular man reacted only with astonishment.
  Darren's left-hand sword flicked across his throat as he pranced across the
  river. The tickle of saidar rose about him and he spun to face where he
  thought it was. On top of the cliff under which their cave had been. He
  caught a good view of her just as she began weaving. Again, the woman led
  her attack with that eerie bar of white fire. Again, Darren met it with his
  own. This time, she held it. The weave was difficult for Darren, including
  too much fire, his weakest power.
  {Where is the fat man?}
  Below, Tareena and Traighan backed out, linked. Before they could get to
  where they could hit the woman, a powerful weave of earth, long held
  quiescent, erupted. Darren tried to divert it, but his effort to hold the
  woman's column of white took up all of his energy.
  As his saidin-enhanced senses stilled time, stones erupted around the pair
  in slow-motion. Tareena ducking, Traighan whirling and then finding the fat
  man directly above them, in a tree. A stone flying towards them. Traighan's
  air tremor cracking the branch. The stone, unseen, striking him in the back
  of the head. The fat man windmilling his arms. Tareena hitting the ground,
  throwing fire up at the falling fat man. Traighan's skull splitting open.
  The fat man falling off the branch to dodge Tareena's fireball. Falling into
  the stream of white fire, turning blue, abruptly disappearing.
  Darren's fury focused on the now lone woman on the top of the cliff. Two
  beads of sweat on her nose. Dripping...
  Suddenly she turned and ran, but before she could move more than a few
  inches an air hammer, made half of saidin {HOW?} and half invisible, caught
  her in the back of the head and flipped her over the edge of the cliff. As
  her stream of fire stopped, Darren's collapsed, as he could not make his
  except to counter hers.
  Darren raced to catch or save the woman. {What was that weave?}
  A splash... Traighan, unharmed, drawing upon water to crush her. Darren wove
  a strand of spirit to cut his hold over the water, and rushed into the water
  again to pull her out.
  As Traighan shouted out, "Where' the fat man?"
  Darren replied, "Gone." as he picked up the madwoman and shielded her.
  She was light, clearly poorly fed. And her hips were shattered, probably
  from landing on a rock. She came to, and Darren set her down.
  As Darren was about to ask her about the weave, She caught sight of the
  muscular man, lying grotesquely in the water with his legs on shore,
  bleeding into the current. An inconsolable grief enveloped her in her last
  moments.
  His will to interrogate her failed, and he remained there, crouched.
  A few seconds later he stood up, to find Traighan alone on the riverside.
  "I'm sorry I..."
  Traighan shrugged it off. "It worked out, and it didn't hurt me."
  "But weren't you dead a moment ago?"
  Traighan pointed at himself. "Me? No, he is."
  "The fat man exploded rock from the walls, one hit you in the back of the
  head."
  Traighan laughed. "You're catching the air here. No such thing happened."
  Darren looked around, as if he could find little green men who had changed
  things, brought Traighan back to life.
  Tareena walked out of positively nowhere, holding their socks and shoes.
  "Why you are willing to stand here freezing your feet off... oh, I forgot
  the ward." Abruptly, Darren noticed the cave, and hardly noticed as he
  accepted his socks from Tareena.
  "Thanks. What do you remember, Tareena?" He noticed that her dress was
  already covered with sand as they sat to finish getting dressed. {So she
  must have dropped. So she saw it too.}
  ****
  OOC:Now, this is a bit sketch since I don't remember who should remember
  what around balefire.
  ****
  "I remember coming out, being ambushed by flying stone, hitting the deck,
  and tipping the fat man off the branch, where he fell into that white thing
  and disappeared. Then I got up and with Traighan knocked the woman off the
  cliff."
  Darren nodded. "That's what I saw too. Only Traighan was hit by a large
  stone and his head was smashed in."
  Traighan shook in disbelief. "Stop saying that! We just ran straight out."
  Tareena held up her hands. "He seems fine now..."
  "But you saw that too."
  "When I saw him with me again I figured I had seen wrong. But yes."
  "I'm bleeding OKAY! Come on, we have to find the others. Light knows where
  they are."
  Tareena said, "We know where they were, and I think anyone could track the
  tower on the move." She opened a gateway to the camp.
  Darren looked down at the madwoman at his feet. She wasn't dead yet, but he
  knew none of them could heal her enough. "Light be with you."
  he stepped through.
  ****
  Sure enough, the trail was painfully easy to follow. As they walked, the
  debate over the discrepancy of events was only silent in each of their
  minds. At least, Darren presumed so. it certainly wa on his.
  After only a few miles, they found the clearing where the others were. They
  were recognized without question and entered the clearing. The fighting had
  clearly not been just with them; there were many other wounded, and a few
  faces missing.
  ****
  OOC:Sorry, Lisa, I left out the personal RPing aspect. Feel free to go over
  it in Tareena's mind and have her interpret or misinterpret his motives
  however you please.Or we can just get on with it.

  Luke
  Darren Sadke

 

 

  After Ariana awoke, Myiona walked back to sit beside Mura'shar. She leaned
  her head against his shoulder. She knew that they were in danger anytime
  they were on a mission, but the idea of actually losing him had never seemed
  real to her. Even as she teased him about going off with strange women, she
  worried about him.
  After a small rest, Ariana was ready to travel and the group began to move
  out. "Wait," said Myiona looking around. "Where are Tareena and Darren?
  We cannot leave without them."
  Someone else mentioned that Traighan was also missing. The group split up
  to go in different directions to locate the missing members. Myiona knew
  that Mura'shar was not able to walk far and she suggested that he rest with
  Ariana and Skree. She joined up with Caballein, who was being followed by a
  weary Alcinia.
  She stepped beside the girl from Mayene and asked, "Are you feeling better?
  I was worried about you before."
  Alcinia smiled and replied, "I have done worse to myself falling off
  rooftops. I will be fine, but . . ."
  "But what?" Myiona asked wondering what was bothering Alcinia.
  "It is something I must work out for myself," Alcinia said turning her head
  away.
  Myiona shrugged and concentrated on feeling for anyone using Saidar.
  Then a sudden burst of power and they had a destination. The First
  Dragonsworn ran through the forest, following the sense of Saidar being
  used. As she crested a hill, Myiona slowed and crouched down. A battle was
  being waged ahead of her, but she was too far to be of any use and a
  mountain of a man blocked the way to her friend.

  Vicky
  aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
  Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 
  ...but action she was missing. If only Talia knew what was going on while
  she was fussing with that netted rope, she would have hurried. She could
  feel Saidar in the distance, and was very tempted to use it herself. *No.*
  She thought to herself, as she put forth more effort into sawing the rope
  apart with her dagger. It's only supposed to be used for defense.. It's
  good enough to stab someone with, but cutting a rope this thick and dense
  was very difficult. Her efforts with the rope were so concentrated, that
  Talia did not notice the stirring currents in the river below as some type
  of ... something.. moved beneath its surface. This snake-like thing crawled
  from the river without Talia's notice, as she was busily hacking away at the
  stubborn netted rope.. dangling in the middle of the air from a hopefully
  sturdy tree-branch.
  .
  The creature headed toward its home.. the tree from which Talia dangled.
  She was almost done with one of the many ropes that needed to be cut. Up
  the tree it crawled, until its senses bid it come to Talia's branch..
  something is in its home.. and it's not at all happy about that.
  .
  Stopping in mid-cut, Talia lifted her gaze.. *Not another madwoman, I hope*
  She thought to herself as she remained as still as possible, letting her
  eyes roam as much as possible without moving her head.
  .
  Suddenly the creature struck.. Baring it's snake-like fangs, the creature
  bit at the netted rope. It must have not seen the rope.. Its fangs caught
  in the nettings of the trap.. But not before scraping Talia's leather
  traveling pants and cutting a deep gash in the flesh of her leg.
  .
  Talia gasped loudly, scrambling as much as possible to the opposite side of
  the net. Gritting her teeth, she refused to scream at the pain in her leg.
  Scrambling did little good; the snake creature liked being stuck even less
  than someone disturbing its territory. The thing lashed its head about in a
  desparate attempt to wring its fangs free of the netting. Gripping to the
  netting, Talia attempted to get a fighter's grip on her dagger.. only to
  lose the grip, allowing the dagger to fall to the river.. where it would do
  absolutely no good for her. *This.. should teach me to be careful what I
  wish for..* Talia managed to think as she swore a curse or two. *I surely
  didn't get any madwomen to deal with.. My hope was granted. Feh.*
  .
  Talia looked to where she had managed to cut through the netting.. and
  wondered if she could, by chance squirm through that small opening.. *Light
  be a fool.. I'm not dying here!* Talia glared at the monstrosity that
  finally was able to get out of the netting.. It was rearing back and
  preparing for another bite.
  .
  Suddenly, the creature stopped in mid-attack and gave the most vicious yell
  it could manage. In her immediate danger, she had yet to realize that...
  Alan was now there. She breathed a huge sigh in relief as she felt, through
  him, the sensation of channeling.. though she knew she didn't feel
  everything he felt.. she knew he was doing something, however....
  .
  Her breath of relief, it seemed, was premature. The creature only glared at
  her more hungrily and drew back.. attacking her branch! *Light..* Talia
  allowed herself a small scream at this point.. *Alan's channeling isn't
  working..* And then.. another thought occurred to her as she went hurtling
  down with the branch toward the river.. no.. now it was the open mouth of
  the snake creature.. *How would a creature so dangerous still exist in a
  land where channelers abound?*
  .
  Then, Talia shot the rope with weaves of Air as strong as she could manage..
  The snake miraculously missed her, and chomped upon the branch.. crushing it
  in two. With a great splash and thud, Talia was frozen for a moment due to
  having the wind knocked out of her.. and the enormous pain in her leg...
  Someone drug her up and out of the river in her disorientation..
  .
  "..Alan?" she asked in a soft and very haggard breath..

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  Talia Daimar
  Dragonsworn
  ~the unlucky one~

 Sure enough, the trail was painfully easy to follow. As they walked, the
  debate over the discrepancy of events was only silent in each of their
  minds. At least, Darren presumed so. It certainly was on his.
  After only a few miles, they found the clearing where the others were. They
  were recognized without question and entered the clearing. The fighting had
  clearly not been just with them; there were many other wounded, and a few
  faces missing.
  ***
  Tareena and Myiona stood apart from the others, each discussing their
  participation in the skirmish with the madmen. Myiona had just finished
  speaking of seeing Tareena from a distance but having to dispose of a large
  mountain of a man before she could get to her. The man led her and others
  away, into the forest and by the time they had killed him, Tareena, Traighan
  and Darren had reached the camp. Tareena reached out and touched Myiona's
  hand, enough to make the woman look at her. "It is enough that you came.
  There was a time when I would not have believed that you would." Enough
  said, for Tareena knew that the 1st Dragonsworn did not choose to be
  embarrassed by emotions, especially not where others could see her.
  The group had elected to rest another day, giving everyone a chance to
  mend their torn clothing, refill water skins and in some instances, heal.
  Alan and Talia had come stumbling into camp around nightfall, Talia in
  serious trouble with an injury. Alan was tired and Talia was babbling so the
  story of how it came to be would have to wait. Preferably it would be told
  around a dining table at the Black Tower, with peace surrounding the laughter
  the story would surely bring. Everyone alive was back with the group, the
  losses weighing heavily in the minds of the ones still standing.
  In the morning, the War Council met for one last strategic meeting,
  trying to decide the best way to approach an area they new little about.
  Ariana was able to give some information but it was sketchy at best. The
  pain killers and her exhaustion had taken it's toll. Thankfully she had
  recovered and able to use her excellent healing skills, especially for
  Talia's sake. The child Skree had been able to give some topographical
  information, at least on the best way to begin approaching. All was in
  readiness, at least as well as can be.
  The group began to pack up, dowsing fires and removing traces of their
  presence. Darren was strangely silent, choosing not to engage in some of the
  light heartened, if not forced, banter among the group. Tareena was used to
  his moodiness and chose not to make an issue of it. She turned around to
  grin at some of the others, catching the eyes of some of her friends. Aramis
  bowed formally at her, with that twinkle in his eye she had come to like so
  much. Who knew that a man with hatred in his heart for anyone Seanchan could
  overcome and evolve into a friend. There was a time when Tareena might have
  wished that it could become more...but it was not to be. Tareena caught
  Callabein making faces at her, each one funnier than the last. She couldn't
  help but burst out laughing, causing some strange looks to be thrown her way.
  Myiona just shook her head and turned around to rib Mur'ashar. All in all,
  after everything that had happened, the group was rejuvenated and ready.
  They began once again to travel through the forest, each one ready to
  leave the silver leaves behind and the ugliness that had occurred. The
  Terrain slowly began to change, imperceptibly at first and then with more and
  more noticeability. The vegetation became more sparse and the temperature
  began to rise. Lush grass gave way to dirt and rock, the dirt going from
  rich brown to a dull gray. They topped a rise and descended carefully,
  slipping and sliding down the steep incline. At the bottom, a line of trees
  which looked completely out of place met them like sentries, posted in
  eternal duty, guarding some unknown treasure from trespassers. Carefully,
  they parted the trees and stepped through. A cold tingle passed through the
  group as they crossed some invisible line. Not power wrought exactly,
  something deeper, something ageless. Each member immediately reached for the
  source, fearful of not being able to touch their power. Cries of alarm rose
  as each realized they were blocked, able to sense but not touch. Sounds of
  weapons being unsheathed filled the air and immediately the group closed in a
  circle, those unable to fight with weapons going in the center. Tareena
  edged closer to Darren's back, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck and
  arms raise knowing that his were as well. Traighan stood to her left,
  flanking Darren and forming the triangle that had become almost familiar to
  the trio. Tareena knew that nothing short of death would stop them from
  protecting her. Even in the midst of the unknown, she couldn't stop a warm
  flush of pleasure from stealing through her, causing Darren to look quickly
  back, just once, and flash a smile in understanding. Traighan couldn't sense
  through any bond what she was feeling but seemed to know for he to turned to
  grin.
  Suddenly a booming voice shook the clearing. "WHO DARES TO ENTER? WHO
  HAS COME FORTH TO ACCEPT THE CHALLENGE? ONLY THE STRONG SHALL SURVIVE AND
  THE WEAK SHALL WEEP THE TEARS OF DEFEAT! STAND AND FACE YOUR DOOM!" A
  shimmering arrow appeared on the ground, as if it had been there all along,
  waiting, pointing forward towards the unknown. Shock waves traveled through
  the group, none expecting to hear that evil voice, grating along their nerve
  endings. Two or three soldiers broke from the group, at Stevan's orders,
  attempting to go back the way they had came but could find no exit. Just as
  the trees had silently and stoically allowed them entrance, they
  systematically now denied an exit, now guarding far more than mere treasure.
  They were trapped. The only way was forward, where the arrow pointed.
  Silently they moved on, unwilling to admit, even to themselves, that they
  wore fear like a cloak and courage like a banner.
  A gasp arose as Stevan reached the end of the arrow for he seemed to
  disappear. One minute he was there, the next, gone. Andraia hesitated, then
  followed and she too disappeared from sight. One by one they entered the
  unknown of the other side of the arrow, heading somewhere they had never been
  and somewhere they didn't want to go. Thoughts of Janara being held captive
  somewhere in this direction and the windfinders need for a cure made their
  feet stand fast on the path, moving onward.
  Tareena stood looking, perplexed and unsure, seeing the others reflect
  like a mirror her own thoughts. What is this place? Where are we? Stretching
  out in front of them was a large clearing. On the ground, painted on the
  grass were boxes of the same width and height, painted blue, separated from
  one another with black lines. There were nine boxes in all, each one
  forming an individual square. To the right of the boxes, lying on the grass,
  were shapes made out of wood, painted in two different colors. What looked
  like X's were painted red, the ones looking like the letter O was painted in
  yellow. It was like nothing they had ever seen.
  "What do you make of it?" Stevan asked, to no one in particular. As he
  was speaking, an X from the pile slowly rose and placed itself in the center
  box, a lilting tune accompanying it across the grass. The group looked on
  with disbelief. What in the world was happening? Had they died going
  through the trees and didn't know it?
  Xyranthes made his way slowly to the front of the group, a frown of
  concentration creasing his brow. "Sir, if I may speak? I think I may have a
  solution, though it has been quite a many years since I ran across this and I
  may be wrong."
  "Speak Xyranthes, if anyone can get us out of this, you can." "Well, Sir, I
  believe it is a child's game of some kind, although I have never played it.
  I remember reading a piece of parchment, a remnant of a remnant, from the Age
  of Legends, describing games of children. this appears to be one of them. I
  believe the object is to get three of a kind in a row, before the other
  person does, but I cannot be sure. I think our only choice is to try, one way
  or another."
  With nods of agreement, everyone watched as he slowly made his way over to
  the pile of letters. Unsurity made everyone's heart race a little faster,
  each one silently hoping that their trusted comrade was right in his
  assumptions. He picked up an X and began walking towards the squares, eyeing
  them one by one. As he reached down to place the X, a fireball came whizzing
  out of nowhere, aiming straight for him. With a shout he ducked and threw
  the X behind him, back onto it's own pile. Barely avoiding being burned he
  turned with a grimace that did not quite make it into a smile. "I guess I
  should pick up one of the O's instead."
  He picked up an O, and headed back once more to the squares. Carefully
  he placed the wooden O on the ground, to the right and down of the X.
  Another X rose from the pile and placed itself above the first. Xyranthes
  placed another O. They watched expectantly, waiting for the unexpected.
  Just win it seemed no one would win, Xyranthes placed an O down, completing
  three in a row. At the end of the clearing, leaves began to part, forming an
  opening. The group moved towards it, looking behind them at the strange game
  on the ground. As they were leaving, oddly it seemed they could hear crying,
  a child's cry, gently keening along the wind, intertwined with the lilt of
  the music, serenading them from the clearing.
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------
  OOC I realize it is long but I wanted to get us moving again. Since the
  madmen are unpredictable and almost childlike in some ways, I thought it
  might be cool if the traps they set for us to get to where they are and
  rescue Janara would be child's games. The games get increasingly harder as
  we go along. I started with Tic Tac Toe because it's the one that came to
  mind first. Sort of like a video game, go through each level and rescue the
  princess. Use your imaginations and have fun with it.

 Darkness enfolded Janara. It was thick. She took a breath and started
  coughing up blackness. She began to panic. Liquid darkness filled her lungs.
  She hacked and tried not to take another breath. She moved her body in her
  bonds as best she could. If she got away would she float to the top of the
  blackness around her? Janara's captures held her tight. Top? What was top?
  Where was up? Where was down?
  ~ Easy, girl ~ she heard in her mind. It was a male voice. Deep and
  reassuring. It was not Ivan but it reminded Janara of the way he might talk to
  his horse. Janara relaxed. Her chest raised and fell, raised and fell. She
  was breathing. Blackness still curled around her. It was an extension of her
  body...warm, soft...it consumed her and entwined around her like a warm blanket
  with a mind of its own. It was a fur rug next to a warm fire, it was a romantic
  evening with her lover. Janara breathed, darkness filled her lungs.

  Locke appeared on a rug next to a fire. There was nothing else there...just
  black. Janara stood on the edge of blackness looking at him. She was in a
  long white velvet gown that hugged her form. The gown had no straps. The top
  hugged her bust.
  Janara moved her arm but couldn't. She saw no rope but could feel it.
  She moved her hand slightly. For a moment Locke and the fire became
  transparent. There was blackness behind them. Janara felt as if she were
  laying flat on a cold marble surface. Then everything came back into focus.
  Locke motioned for Janara to come to him.
  "Locke?"
  "No," Locke said. "I appear to you in this form only because it is your most
  recent memory of comfort." Locke, or whoever or whatever, looked down at its'
  body and smiled. "Not bad." There was silence. It looked at her and smiled.
  "I am Dusii."
  Janara walked over to Dussi. "Sit down," it said. She did. It reached
  out and touched her shoulder. She felt warmth. The pain in her leg went
  away. "You are healed," Dusii said.
  "What do you want with..."
  Dusii held his pointer finger to his mouth. Janara stopped speaking. A
  iron stick appeared in Dusii's hand and he moved the logs around on the fire
  with it. ~ Easy, girl ~ Janara heard in her mind. She felt peace.
  After what seemed an eternity, Dusii began to speak. "Do not ask what is
  on your mind, young witch, I will not tell you much of what I have planned for
  you." He smiled at Janara. "Yes, I am the leader of these 'madmen.' I am also
  very sane. You have questions? Is it not natural? I mean, in a world full of
  madmen, the sane man is king." There was a few minutes of silence again. "I
  would tell you to remember that," Dusii said, "but it makes no difference since
  you will die shortly." Dusii looked past Janara. Did he say something about
  her death? ~ Easy ~ Janara turned her head and looked behind her. Darkness.

  "The fact is," Dusii continued, "I envy the madmen." Janara looked back at
  Locke, Dusii. He is Dusii - Dusii - Dusii...
  "I know your men of the Black Tower fear madness," Dusii continued, "they
  run from it like children running from your Forsaken under their beds. Madness
  is only a misunderstanding, so called 'sane' people fear madness because they
  don't understand madness. That's all. I understand, I know too much. I have
  suffered too much. I wish...why look at me like that my witch-sacrifice? Oh,
  you are skeptical. Perhaps you think I am insane after all? It is good to be
  skeptical, you have learned your White Ajah training well." Dusii held out his
  hand and pointed. An image of the other members of the Black Tower appeared in
  the darkness. They were trying to figure out some puzzle. "See, they
  are like children." Dusii watched for a few moments. "They may grow up yet,"
  he said with a smile. Janara smiled. He seemed so sincere. Dusii turned back
  to Janara, reached for her hand and held it. "I do not wish to harm you,
  dearest Witch - yes, 'Witch' - 'Janara' is one of many names for 'witch' in the
  old tongue, your mother new something when she named you that she didn't
  share. Very interesting. But, as I said, I do not wish to harm you but I will
  if I must."
  "So why..." Janara began. Dusii held up his finger again.
  "I no longer want to live but all creatures have a sense of
  self-preservation," he said, "my existence requires certain, 'offerings' to the
  powers that be. Perhaps your friends will grant me my wish." Dusii looked
  thoughtful for a moment. "My death would effect my 'insane' friends in a
  negative way as well. Someone would have to take care of them or they would
  die too. And I do not hold you and your friends prejudicial view that so
  called 'insanity' is worse than death. Your habit of killing each other when
  you go 'insane' is barbaric at the least! Someone needs to take care of them
  and I doubt your friends would bother. Perhaps it would be better if your
  friends could just make me go insane and send me an them on our way..."
  Janara started to laugh. She sat down on the rug and laughed some more. She
  laughed so hard the image of Dusii/Locke started to fade and then there was
  nothing but blackness. Slowly, like she was waking up from a amusing dream,
  Janara opened her eyes. She snickered some more. She was in a large room with
  smooth black walls, bound and spread out on a cool slab of black rock. There
  was light from torches in oddly shaped holders on the walls. The holders
  mimicked what appeared to be some sort of animal, though if it was Janara had
  never seen one. The room was full of thick, heavy smoke that filled Janara's
  lungs. Strangely, it was not hard to breath. The smell was pleasent. There
  were madmen and women moving here and there. Janara was cold. Some of the
  people were painting her body. There were dots and lines and squares and
  triangles of green and red and yellow and blue. There were swirls of mixed
  shades. Janara had been healed. Her hair lay out behind her, slightly damp.
  Janara recalled Dusii. She burst out laughing.
  __________________________________________________________________

  Janara Dragonsworn
  Bondmate to La'rece and Ivan

 Andraia watched pensively as the game, with huge O's and X's. commenced
  and was won. She frowned slightly...children's games? How truly bizarre.
  The group continued into the next clearing, the sound of an unhappy child
  floating behind them on the breeze. Almost frightening, the simplicity of
  these peoples' minds. They took joy in defeat foreigners with games that
  were simple, yet complex, and easy for those who knew how to win to do so.
  She blinked as the next game came into view.
  Ladders. That was her first impression, ladders climbing into nowhere.
  But also, slides, like those created by children as they slid in the snow,
  but free-standing and made of metal. *Ladders and slides? What sort of game
  is this?* She took hold of the nearest ladder and tried to climb, but it
  instantly began to shake and she tumbled to the ground. "I cannot climb it!
  What is wrong with this game?" She frowned, then noticed the ground was
  outlined in rectangles, extending to the distance, ladders and the ends of
  the slides occasinally touching inside a square. *What..?*
  A spinning sound was heard to the left of the group, and they turned to
  see a red arrow, spinning around in a circle on a board lined with numbers.
  It stopped, and moments later a flat outline of a person, taller than
  Andraia, moved down the rectangles and stopped. She frowned.
  'That must be it. Someone push the arrow, I'll be the playing piece."
  She stepped onto the board and took a deep breath, hearing the arrow spin.
  It slowed, then stopped, and she saw the number it landed on... 3. She
  stepped forward three rectangles, and stopped at the foot of a ladder. Well
  then, she would try to climb again.
  This time, she made it. She was now facing the opposite way on the
  board, which was apprently formed on steps cut out of a hill. So, she was
  wining, so far. The arrow spun, and she waited.

  Three slides -- thankfully, not the larger ones -- four ladders and a
  half candlemark later, and Andraia was in a race to the finish with the
  playing piece. She was so close... but it was only a space behind her. She
  looked down anxiously from her great height as the arrow was spun for her
  opponent... 2. She laughed gleefully... 2 was the space of the longest
  slide, and her opponent plunged down, down towards the ground, leaving her in
  a clear race to the end. The arrow was spun for her, and landed on 4. She
  skipped forward 4 steps and stomped on the finish square, her face lit up in
  a beaming smile. She had won.
  She slid down the longest slide to rejoin the others as the keening
  child's cry began again and an opening appeared in the trees. They walked
  through the opening, leaving the huge game board behind, ready to face their
  next challenge.

  Andraia Korinth

 
  It was not the large ape-like creature with the curved claws and the bird-like
  face that startled him. Nor was it the creature who had the front end of a
  hunting cat and the backside of a horse. What had caught Rengar's attention
  was the way in which Odessa seemed to be delighting herself in this place, as
  if this were her own private garden.
  While Rengar would jump and quickly catch himself whenever one of these
  strange creatures darted onto the path he and his Warderess were now talking
  through this silver and platinum forest, Odessa would laugh with glee and
  point to what had just erupted out of the foliage, her eyes begging Rengar to
  show the same enthusiasm that she now seemed to have. But he couldn't.
  Not that Rengar was frightened by the creatures, necessarily. Of course he
  had been startled when he had first seen them, looking as though they had
  crawled, jumped, and ran straight out of the pages of a child's storybook, but
  it was the fact that Odessa seemed so comfortable around them that made the
  hair on his back crawl.
  Light, man, so the woman likes animals! No matter how strange they look.
  Maybe that's why she likes me...Rengar thought to himself, grinning slightly.
  Now that is a reasonable explanation to a question, but trying to find an
  answer to this...
  "Maybe we should increase the pace a little bit," Rengar said to Odessa as
  the two continued to move through the forest with the peculiar silver trees.
  Leaves were now falling all around Rengar, though they did not seem as
  brilliantly colored on the ground as they did up in the trees.
  Rengar knew full well why they were in this fairy tale forest in the first
  place; Alan and Talia, who had been recently bonded according to what he had
  heard from some of the Tower members, had been given a map that was supposed
  to lead them to the location of the ter'angreal that supposedly held the cure
  to the disease that was plaguing the Sea Folk's channelers. It's like the
  Janghai Pass all over again; too drawn out and exhausting, Rengar thought to
  himself, Odessa now making her way to his side. She had suffered a few minor
  wounds during the battle with the natives of this island, but from watching
  her move about the forest she looked as though she was sixteen instead of 26,
  or whatever age she had given Rengar during their time on the beach...
  "What are they doing?" Odessa asked Rengar, who had not been paying any real
  attention to what was happening ahead until Odessa called his attention. And
  what Rengar saw before him did seem to provoke the question that Odessa had
  just asked him into one's mind.
  Traighan, Tareena, Aramis, Darren, and Cabellein each seemed to be in a state
  of drunkenness, each surrounding a large fountain that seemed very out of
  place in the middle of a forest such as this. What kind of fountain is this?
  Rengar asked himself as both he and Odessa approached.
  His bond-mate was the first to try her hand at drinking some of the colored
  water in the fountain, and immediately she seemed to be transported out of her
  current surroundings and onto another plain of reality entirely, as if she
  were sleepwalking.
  Strangely, Rengar was compelled to drink the fountain's water, even though he
  could clearly see the effect it had taken on Odessa and, he was now guessing,
  the others gathered here. But the others didn't seem to be in any pain, and
  perhaps his dream had to be something more interesting than what he was doing
  now; chasing down a ter'angreal that might not exist at all based on the
  directions of an old inhabitant of an island that was supposedly filled with
  men and women that had gone insane. Why trust anyone in this Light-forsaken
  place.
  So with both his hands cupped together Rengar extended his hands down towards
  the colored waters of the fountain, and bringing the liquid up to the lips.
  And as soon as he lips made contact with the fluid he immediately felt
  differently in mind than he had ever before in his life. That was when he
  lost sight of everything around him, and only his imagination remained...
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------
  He was a flargg, a smallish creature who spent all but the mating season
  swinging through the silver-topped trees of this island of mad channelers,
  although his primitive brain did not identify the humans as such. Because of
  the extreme violence that the natives here exhibited towards just about every
  living thing, the flarggs were especially cautious of men, and sometimes it
  seemed as though they had to ability vanish into thin air whenever men caught
  a glance at them.
  Today he was looking for nuts and berries to eat before the other flarggs got
  to them. Fierce fighting was often the result when two flarggs were each in
  search of the same source of nourishment, and he had no wish to get into one
  of those confrontations.
  But today this creature felt different; specifically, there was a feeling
  inside his head that was entirely new to him, as if he was carrying part of
  another person within his mind. Of course, he did not have time to think and
  ponder these things as humans usually did, since the drive for food always
  overran any other interest the small flargg might have at the moment.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------
  The battle was the most intense that Rengar had ever seen in his life.
  Seanchan, Shadowspawn, and members of the Black Tower mingled together in a
  life and death struggle in the valley below, while Rengar, for some reason
  unbeknownst to him, was the commanding officer sitting near the top of the
  valley. He couldn't remember commanding armies in battle like this before;
  couldn't remember being promoted to this position. But with men and women
  coming to him and asking him for new orders every few instances did not give
  him time to think and ponder, as a small animal might have had time to do.
  No, now was certainly not the time to be thinking about his own problems,
  especially when so many other lives were on the line now. Unfortunately,
  Rengar's army of Asha'men and Dragonsworn seemed to be on the losing side of
  this battle thusfar, with no sign that they were going to be turning the
  tables on the opposing army any time soon.
  Think, Rengar, think! Legolas would know what to do; so would Ivan. Why
  can't you? You didn't come all this way, through ghosts and back-stabbing
  Asha'men, just to die out here. Wherever here is, Rengar thought to himself,
  and without a warning to the adjutants who were mounted on their horses beside
  him he made his way down the sloping face of the valley, down towards the
  battlefield where the cries of both Asha'men and Seanchan could be heard.
  This probably isn't going to help one bit, but at least it will be better if I
  die here with the others than if I just watch them be slaughtered from the top
  of the valley.
  Rengar caught a glimpse of Eriana then, covered with the blood of her
  enemies, making her entire body look as red as her hair. Rengar had his
  gripes with the woman, but at the moment he couldn't think of anyone he wanted
  to see more at the moment.
  "Eriana, what are you doing here?" Rengar managed to ask before another
  Shadowspawn charged at him, with Rengar skillfully slicing the creatures
  belly. Intestines, or what constituted as such for a Shadowspawn, came
  spilling out of the cut that Rengar had just made with Striker, and the
  Shadowspawn fell to the ground, just another number in the long list of
  casualties that had been suffered thusfar.
  "This is my Quest too, Rengar," Eriana said, pushing the latest of her kills
  of her spear and turning to face him. Her blue eyes sparkled with the
  adrenaline that was probably coursing through her veins at the moment, and she
  gave Rengar a smile with blood stained teeth before continuing. "Ever since
  the first time I met you I've wanted to fight for you. And that's what I'm
  doing now."
  But just when Rengar was about to ask Eriana the all important question of
  why, a Seanchan weapon found it's way through her ribcage and into her heart,
  before Rengar had a chance to react. Shortly after the So'jhin Baijin'm'hael
  fell to the ground, Rengar used Fire to quickly set the man ablaze, hoping
  that he would take a few more of his comrades with him as he ran around the
  battlefield in a panic.
  Without wasting another second Rengar fell to his knees, cradling Eriana's
  fallen body in his arms. But not every story has even a satisfying end, and
  Eriana left without saying anything another than what she had told Rengar when
  she has still been alive. Then, with a reaction that surprised even himself,
  Rengar buried his face into Eriana's black coat; partially out of grief for
  her death, and partially because of the realization that he was going to fail
  this Quest, and that the Black Tower had sacrificed so much only to come up
  empty.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------
  Rengar was suddenly brought out of this dream, if it could be called that, by
  a sharp kick to the ribs, courtesy of Cyrus Rakkniven. Needless to say,
  Rengar wasn't very appreciative of Cyrus's method, and he sprang up
  immediately to voice his ideas.
  "Blood and bloody ashes, why did you go do that for? Isn't that a less
  painful way to wake a man up?" Rengar asked, looking the other Asha'man
  straight in the face.
  "Well, shaking you wasn't helping much, and if you'd take a second to look
  around at what's going on, you'll see why we need you awake rather than asleep
  at the moment. Asha'men Rengar," Cyrus told him, and as Rengar turned to see
  what was happening behind him he instantly forgot about his gripes with Cyrus
  and made his way into the battle, hoping to help his friends. They seemed to
  have the situation under control, but the problem with channelers such as
  those that inhabited this island was that you could never tell what they were
  going to do next.
  From the amount of fireballs and other dangerous projectiles that were being
  hurled towards the members of the Black Tower, Rengar could tell that there
  were going to be a couple of wounded when this battle ended, but hopefully
  there wouldn't be people in any worse of a condition. On this side of the
  lines, of course.
  Rengar was about to use saidin when he remembered what Stevan had said about
  using the Power on this island...but after a quick review of this situation
  Rengar latched onto the One Power anyhow. Then, using weaves of Earth and
  Fire he formed about a dozen small pointed projectiles, and using a blast of
  Air he sent them hurling towards the nearest of group of mad channelers.
  Fortunately, the inhabitants of these islands wore nothing but rags at best,
  and a couple of the small darts found their way to the jugular vein.
  As the battle wore on Rengar continued to kill more and more, to a point
  where the bodies of the natives seemed little more than objects to him,
  instead of living human beings. It was soon after this thought that a wave of
  Earth shook the ground beneath him, and as he looked towards the source of the
  seismic wave he could see the madmen being swallowed up the rifts the wave had
  caused.
  "This is insane!" Rengar yelled suddenly, without even knowing that he had
  spoken aloud. Not that it much mattered; with the seismic wave and all of the
  other noise that the fighting was now generating, everything was now a jumble
  of sound, and it was impossible for a single voice to make it more than two
  feet before it was drowned out.
  A fireball was then shot straight at Rengar, and it was only due to his
  battle experience that he was able to erect a shield of Water in front of him
  to take the force of the small fireball before it reached him. Is this battle
  ever going to end? Rengar asked himself, and as he took a look around he
  wasn't sure if it would or not.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------
  Rengar had only heard the bad news a few minutes ago; Janara and Ariana had
  both been kidnapped by the inhabitants of this island, and according to
  certain estimates they were being taken to the same fire mountain that they
  had been heading towards before they had run into the battle with the madmen.
  And now that battle was just now taking it's toll on Rengar's body, for the
  long slash he had taken to the back on account of a particularly wily opponent
  was now being tended to by Odessa. Needless to say, once the adrenaline rush
  had gone out of Rengar the only rush he had been experiencing since then was a
  stream of pain.
  "That should teach you to watch your back," Odessa said with a smile, putting
  the finishing touches on her Healing and patting Rengar on the back.
  Thankfully Odessa had been able to Heal it to a point where it was nearly
  invisible, put he still felt an itching in the area where the slash had been.
  "Well, it looks like everyone is just about ready to leave now. I suggest we
  go with them, unless you want to spend the night out here alone, in this
  forest. It won't be as romantic or as passive as that beach, I'm sure."
  With that small comment Rengar arose from the position he had taken on his
  frontside for the Healing and moved towards the others, who he assumed were
  now making their way to the volcano once again.
  A few hours had passed on their journey and Rengar had to admit that they
  were probably the most peaceful couple of hours that he and the others had
  experienced on this island thusfar. They were now coming up on a rather dense
  section of trees that held closer together than those further back, and it was
  almost as if the trees were trying to keep everyone out.
  The chaos began to erupt when one of the trees grabbed at Talia, and much to
  the bewilderment of the others all of the trees began to become animated. The
  trees grabbed at the members of the Black Tower while the victims of nature's
  sudden assault fought back in every way they had been taught how. Rengar,
  however, was simply content to make a few swipes at the branches of these
  creepy trees with Striker, which seemed to keep the trees at a good enough
  distance from him.
  Don't want to use Fire to take care of this little problem, Rengar thought to
  himself, slashing to and fro with his sword in the direction of the oncoming
  branches. "That could set more of the forest on fire than we would want, and
  it would probably anger these people even more. One thing I certainly do not
  want to see is one of these people angry at me, especially since they seem
  only to be attacking out of curiosity at the moment. Besides our adoption of
  that little Skree girl there hasn't been any reason for these madmen to be
  attacking us at all, and yet they still do. And now these pesky plants...
  Fortunately, it did not take long for them to get out of the forest once they
  overcame the surprise that the living trees had given them when they had first
  entered there domain. From looking around at the others Rengar could tell
  that he had been let off easy in the "battle" with the trees, and that some of
  the Asha'men and Dragonsworn had been in the wrong place at the wrong time
  when the trees had carried out their surprise attack.
  It doesn't matter now, anyhow. We're out of that situation, and according to
  the map and that little girl the volcano shouldn't be that far off now, Rengar
  thought to himself, and putting Striker back in it's sheath he followed the
  remaining Asha'men and Dragonsworn as they came closer and closer to the
  volcano. And closer still to being able to go back to the Black Tower and
  forget all of the pain and death that had taken place; both on the voyage here
  and now with all of the battles they had had endured while on the island.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  ------------------------------------------
  "WHO DARES TO ENTER? WHO HAS COME FORTH TO ACCEPT THE CHALLENGE? ONLY THE
  STRONG SHALL SURVIVE AND THE WEAK SHALL WEEP THE TEARS OF DEFEAT! STAND AND
  FACE YOUR DOOM!"
  Rengar watched in fascination as Stevan was able to solve the first puzzle,
  which according to Xyranthes involved places X's and O's in a specific order.
  This is perfect, Rengar had thought while Xyranthes had been explaining it to
  everyone. We come here expecting to fight these madmen in the hopes that we
  can finally return to the Black Tower, and instead we find ourselves playing
  children's games from who knows when.
  After the first puzzle had been completed the doorway that had been closed
  previously was now opened, and the remaining members of the Black Tower who
  had made the journey to the volcano now walked through the opened passageway
  towards the next room.
  But instead of having X's and O's on the ground like before there instead was
  a circular arena-type of platform that was suspended over molten magma that
  flowed below. Even though he was high above the magma Rengar still held a
  hand to his face to protect himself from the heat that was generated by the
  molten rock. Who would be crazy enough to build something like this in the
  middle of a volcano? Rengar asked himself as looked on with the other members
  of the Black Tower in awe. It certainly wasn't a natural phenomenon; metal
  chains were the things that were keeping the platform suspended above the
  magma.
  "WHO DARES TO ENTER? WHO HAS COME FORTH TO ACCEPT THE CHALLENGE? ONLY THE
  STRONG SHALL SURVIVE AND THE WEAK SHALL WEEP THE TEARS OF DEFEAT! STAND AND
  FACE YOUR DOOM!" the voice spoke again, but this time there was something
  added at the end. "ONLY THREE MAY DARE TO ATTEMPT THIS CHALLENGE. ALL OTHERS
  WHO SET FOOT ONTO THE ARENA DURING THE CHALLENGE WILL BE KILLED INSTANTLY."
  It was then that a ferocious looking beast jumped out of the magma below and
  onto the "arena," and in the middle of the platform there was what appeared to
  be a tail, although without saidin it was hard for Rengar to tell from this
  distance.
  "So Xyranthes, what child's game would this happen to be?" Stevan asked, his
  voice assuming a tone part curiosity and part chastity. He certainly wasn't
  expecting this when we were traveling here, Rengar thought to himself, shaking
  his head. What is going on here?
  "Well, this would appear to be another ancient game called Pin the Tail on
  the Ass (I know it doesn't sound very good but a donkey is an ass, isn't it?).
  The objective here in to try and stick that tail there," Xyranthes pointed to
  the object that Rengar had made out to be a tail beforehand. "on the backside
  of the creature there. It shouldn't be too difficult to do...all we need are
  volunteers."
  "I'll do it," Rengar spoke, which caused most of the people surrounding him
  to turn and stare now. It's about time I started helping out around here the
  way I used to, instead of playing second fiddle, Rengar reasoned, and Stevan
  nodded his head approvingly, and called for others to volunteer.
  I might die doing this, but at least I won't be a distant memory in these
  peoples' minds if I do, Rengar thought as he took his first step onto the
  suspended platform. Everyone will remember that I did this, and I hope I will
  too, if I can survive.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  -------------------------------------------
  I know it sounds pretty corny, put Pin the Tail was the only children's game
  that I could think of at the moment. You don't suppose whoever is in charge
  of this volcano would allow Spin the Bottle, would he...
  Anyhow, I hope that my sudden inclusion of this new phase in out little
  adventure hasn't thrown off plans that anyone else might have had concerning
  what to do next, and we still need two volunteers to help Rengar Pin the Tail
  on the Shadowspawn.
  A couple of things to remember about the creature, however; he's incredibly
  fast an agile, and weapons are intended to be used to slow him down, though it
  won't be easy to do so. This will also force me to write a quick RP about the
  battle to prevent keeping anyone hanging here, and hopefully I'll be able to
  pull one out in a few days. Until then, farewell and Happy MLK Jr. Day!
  Kyle

 As the group crested a small rise in the land, the saw below them a
  large, flat area. It seemed empty of any threat. Alcinia assumed that
  they had passed beyond the testing and were now free. She was wrong.
  As the first foot touched the soil in the valley, large multi-colored
  balls appeared. They were scattered in now seeming order. A huge
  white ball appeared before the group, blocking their way. "What now?"
  someone muttered.
  Alcinia took a moment to sort through memories long hidden beneath her
  tough exterior. A group of children sitting around a group of small
  balls such as these and each trying to move their ball the furtherest.
  She had watched them from a rooftop one morning wanting to be able to
  join them and forget the world she lived in.
  "I think," Alcinia said hesitantly, "that I have seen these game
  before. The object is to move the white ball past all of the colored
  ones. You may use the other balls to redirect your shot."
  "How can we move anything that large?" she heard a voice behind her
  ask. "It might be possible with the power, but we have been cut off
  from that."
  Alcinia stepped toward the ball and reached for the source. The wall
  betweem it and her had disappeared. She walked ahead checking the
  distance and the obstructions in between. "Impossible," she muttered.
  She ran and hand through her hair and walked a line past the balls to
  where the white one waited. She shrugged and muttered, "I will try
  unless someone else thinks they may have a better chance." No one else
  stepped forward, so the game began.
  Weaving a complex flow of air and spirit, Alcinia built a powerful wall
  of force and then narrowed it to a point smaller than the side of the
  ball. Gritting her teeth in concentration, she slammed the weave
  against the ball. It rolled forward quickly, bouncing off one ball and
  then another. It rolled past the grouping of balls several feet and
  then stopped.
  Another ball dropped and Alcinia found herself moved back by a wall of
  air. Her hold of the power was sliced as her part of the game had
  ended. Suddenly, the other ball began moving bouncing off the same
  balls that she had used, but the angle was wrong and it was trapped
  between two of the other balls.
  The balls disappeared and the sound of stomping feet could be heard in
  the distance. Alcinia grinned and looked back at the others. "It
  sounds like someone is a poor looser. Maybe we should hurry out of
  here. The others agreed and they quickly moved across the flat land.
  As they stepped beyond to a forested area, the ground behind them began
  to rumble and crack.

  Alcinia

 Mura'shar felt useless. While others were facing deadly challenges on
  behalf of the Tower, he was stuck hanging back with the wounded. And
  technically, he wasn't even wounded. Just a little stiff. Okay, a bit more
  than stiff.
  He watched as contest after contest was met and defeated. Skree was
  able to describe a few as larger and more dangerous versions of games
  children in this land played. Mura'shar had resigned himself to being a
  spectator for this round of "games" when He saw Stevan, Xyranthes, and
  Regnar approach a game that was set almost within a magma pool.
  "ONLY THREE MAY DARE TO ATTEMPT THIS CHALLENGE. ALL OTHERS WHO SET
  FOOT ONTO THE ARENA DURING THE CHALLENGE WILL BE KILLED INSTANTLY."
  A creature that looked like a huge demonic horse without a tail leaped
  from the pool and stood in the middle of the arena. Mura'shar looked at
  Skree "Tell me you don't play with those creatures." he said
  Skree missed the sarcasm "They're supposed to be pictures of a horse or
  pony. One person is given the tail and is blindfolded and spun around . Then
  he tries to pin the tail on the right part of the horse"
  Mura'shar looked closer. Sure enough, there was something on the ground
  that could be a tail. Regnar was on the arena now. He kept his eyes on the
  monster as he reached for the tail.
  As soon as he picked it up, something underneath the tail leaped at him.
  It latched onto his face, blinding him. An invisible force spun him around
  several times, leaving him totally disoriented. The beast exploded into
  action, charging Regnar.
  Mura'shar scooped up Skree and ran towards the arena. He stopped just
  long enough to hand the child over to Xyranthes and entered the arena. His
  legs were on fire from so much rapid movement. Regnar heard the danger and
  managed to dodge the creature, but he was having difficulty locating its
  position now. The blindfold wouldn't come off.
  "On your right" Mura'shar called, directing Regnar towards his target.
  Regnar looked startled but did as he was told.
  "A SECOND CHALLENGER HAS BEEN ACCEPTED. ONLY ONE MORE MAY MAKE THE
  ATTEMPT. ALL OTHERS WHO STEP FOOT ONTO THE ARENA WILL BE KILLED INSTANTLY"
  boomed the voice.
  "Mura'shar, is that you?" called Regnar. "I thought you were still
  recovering form an attack"
  "I was" Mura'shar replied. He was trembling now, and sweating. Light,
  it was hot in here "I'm better now" He was glad Asha'man didn't use an Oath
  Rod or he might not have been able to say that.
  The "Ass" was getting ready to trample Regnar. Mura'shar channeled a
  leash of Air to hold it in place while Regnar pinned it. The creature
  thrashed about for a moment, then broke it!. It cut the weave!
  "Regnar, we have a problem" Mura'shar called as he backed away from the
  furious Shadowspawn. It had turned its attention on him now, and Mura'shar
  tried to position himself so the beast's rump was facing Regnar.
  "The One Power won't hold it for long, so when I call out, be ready to
  run straight ahead and pin this thing."

  Jake
  Marked Asha'man

 Stevan watched as Mura'shar and Rengar battled it out with the strange beast
  in the middle of the arena. This whole scenario was unnerving him though. A
  strange forest, mad channellers...and now children's games from the Age of
  Legends. That was the last straw...he felt he was going insane.

  Stevan clenched his fists each time one of the Asha'man almost got trampled
  by the beast. Too many lives had already been claimed on this trip...and this
  beast was a good candidate to kill another. Its agility and strength made it
  an formidable opponent, and he definitely didn't envy either of the two in
  the arena.

  Xyranthes had told him that the aim of the game was to pin the tail on the
  ass, except that this creature was a lot more fierce than your average
  donkey. Anyway, if that was the aim, then Mura'shar and Rengar were going the
  right way about it - Mura'shar was circling the ring so that the beast's rear
  end faced the blindfolded Rengar.

  Finally Mura'shar shouted, "Now!" and Rengar stepped forwards and thrust out
  the tail, settling it firmly in the creature's backside. The creature gave a
  howl, and then shimmered and disappeared. And once again the pattering of
  feet could be heard as the next row of trees began to part...

  ...a clearing was revealed, its grass a deep green, and scattered with small
  daisies and buttercups. Once again a closed row of silver-leaved trees could
  be seen at the other side of the clearing. And in the middle was a...box
  shape...except that it was covered with fancy designs.

  Xyranthes explained the game to him as the two Storm Teams passed through the
  two sets of trees to enter the clearing. "It's called pass-the-parcel. You
  sit in a circle, and as the music plays, you pass the parcel around the
  circle. When the music stops, the person who has the parcel tears a layer off
  the parcel. When the final layer is removed, there is a prize there, and the
  person who has opened that layer gets to keep it."

  They were in the clearing now, and they could see that there was a large
  circle drawn in the grass, in the centre of which was the parcel. Xyranthes
  looked around puzzled. "But I don't see how we're supposed to win this
  challenge..."

  It was then when the voice spoke. "YOU ALL MUST PLAY THIS GAME, BUT ONLY ONE
  OF YOU WILL GET TO WIN THE PRIZE." The voice laughed madly as the Asha'man
  and Dragonsworn looked puzzled. What could it mean?

  Stevan sighed and sat down along the edge of the circle, and as he did so the
  parcel floated over to him. Turning round, he saw that the rest of the Tower
  looked hesistant, so he beckoned for them to sit down. One by one they filled
  the circle, Cyrus, Traighan, Dorlon, Myiona...

  When the last person, Crystinah, had sat down, the music started playing. It
  was a sad tune, telling of past glories now gone, great warriors defeated,
  and of romances ended tragically. Stevan shrugged, and then followed the
  instructions that Xyranthes had given him. He turned to his left and gave the
  parcel to Cyrus, who in turn gave it to Traighan...

  The game seemed to go on for an eternity. One by one the layers were removed
  - first by Alcinia, then Myiona, until the last one had been removed by
  Darren. Meanwhile Stevan had been gazing at the forest around him. The
  silver-leaved trees had closed behind him, and were still closed in front of
  him. All around the sides there were just more trees, packed so close
  together that no human could pass through. Although they were imprisoned, he
  could appreciate the beauty of the environment. The open sky was a deep blue,
  and the flaming sun made the silver leaves glisten and sparkle.

  His thoughts were interrupted as Crystinah passed the parcel to him. At that
  moment the music ceased, only the last note could be heard faintly echoing
  around in the surrounding trees. Oh well...I suppose the leader has to have a
  turn...

  Stevan started tearing off the layer of decorated paper. He soon realised
  that it was the final layer, because instead of another decorated layer of
  paper there was a white box. When the final piece of wrapping had been
  removed, Stevan cautiously opened the box...

  And inside was a model of a creature, four-legged, and looking not-unlike a
  large pig. Except that in place of smooth skin was a coarse brown fur, and it
  had long, pointed teeth, ideal for tearing meat. Suddenly, the object flew
  out of the box and into the centre of the ring, and it began to...enlargen!?

  The beast's actual size was equivalent to that of a large boar, and it was as
  every bit as ugly as one too. It turned to face Stevan, its small red eyes
  glaring at him, challenging him. Sighing, the Tsorovan'm'hael stood up and
  stepped into the ring.

  The first surprise he got was that he still wasn't able to channel, which
  meant that he had to desperately dive out of the way of the pig-creature's
  first charge. He got to his feet just to see the beast preparing for another
  charge. He quickly side-stepped out of the way, and then continued to back
  away from the creature as he desperately thought how he could kill the
  strange beast.

  "Use your sword!" The voice came from the circle, and it was immediately
  recognisable as Andraia's. Blood and ashes! he cursed. Why didn't I think of
  that? Ah well...bondmate's were useful in more ways than one, he thought
  wryly, as he drew his sword out of his belt and stood his ground, watching as
  the creature encircled him, now unsure of itself.

  He always preferred using a sword to channelling. It felt more natural, and
  the filth of the taint didn't corrupt him. There was something about feeling
  your sword slice into flesh, cutting away skin, bone and muscle...the beast
  charged. It had eventually ended its cautious approach, and reverted back to
  its original tactics.

  That gave Stevan his chance. Just before the beast hit him, he glided to the
  right, bringing his sword up from the ground to cause a nasty gash in the
  beast's right shoulder. Now enraged, it again charged at Stevan, though its
  injury made it slower. Its blood dripped to the ground, staining the ground
  red, as Stevan knelt, facing it, pointing his sword towards it. As the beast
  bounded forwards, he brought his sword up to pierce the soft flesh of the
  creature's belly...

  But he must have mistimed his stroke, for the beast hit him full force and
  knocked him to the ground, and knocking his sword out of his grasp. It now
  perched on top of him, crushing his chest, its distorted face leering at him,
  its mouth opening and snapping towards his throat...

  At the last moment he rolled to his left, throwing the beast onto the ground
  beside him, so that it was now on its back. Stevan reached out with his right
  hand to grab his sword, and he thrust it down into the exposed flesh of the
  beast's chest. It gave a low-pitched squeal as its life ended, and then
  slowly faded into nothingness.

  Stevan watched as the circle faded from view, and the next row of trees
  parted to once again let the two Storm Teams through. He went over to Andraia
  and put an arm around her. "Thanks for the advice." He smiled at her, and she
  smiled back, which was a rarity for her. The two went forward together to
  face the next challenge. How many more can there be?
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------
 

  I thought I'd better explain a little bit more about the madmen and the
  volcano, because some people are making a few little mistakes. The volcano is
  just your typical volcano - it spews up ash, lava and other stuff
  periodically...because it's just a normal volcano. Actually, it does
  perodically spew out ter'angreal too...but we'll get to that later in the RP
  :)

  The madmen make sacrifices to the volcano because they think it's the home of
  a god or gods...because it spews out 'fire' and stuff...not to mention the
  ter'angreal. In short...there is NO-ONE "in charge of the volcano." It's in
  charge of itself :)

  The person we hear running away is the leader of the madmen. He's just a
  madman who's in charge of the others. The reason he's doing all these games
  is a) because he's mad; b) because he doesn't want us to interfere with the
  sacrifice.

  I hope that clears a few things up!

  Steve
  <><

 

  Xyranthes shook his head in wonder. So many games, all children's games in
  nature. As the trees parted and the group moved forward a ring of ten chairs
  stood in the center of the clearing. There were ten wooden men standing next
  to the chairs, encircling the ring of chairs. They where painted with plain
  soldiers cloths, and little wooden swords and spears.
  "TO PLAY THIS GAME, SEND IN THE OLD ONE!" The guiding voice echoed. Smiling,
  thinking her knew what kind of game this was, Xyranthes joined the ring of
  wooden men. As soon as he stepped into the circle, a strange melody filled
  the air. The game had begun. As expected, the Wooden men began to mill around
  the chairs, Xyranthes followed suit. He ensued, awaiting for the music to
  stop, concentrating with all his effort. If ever there was proof that their
  guide was insane this was it. No sane man would follow up a game with music
  with another such game, yet here it was.
  Just then the music stopped. With all his might, Xyranthes hurled himself at
  the nearest chair, just slipping into it before one of the wooden soldiers
  did. For a split second nothing happened, and then the soldier disappeared,
  and so did the chair Xyranthes was sitting upon. Wincing, Xyranthes dusted
  himself off, he was defiantly getting to old for this.
  Again the music started, and again the circle of now nine men started. Nine
  men, eight chair, then seven chairs, six, five, four, each time the chair
  Xyranthes sat upon disappeared. He now had a very sore rump, and several
  black and blues would dot his body the next day if he could get healed. But
  he had managed to snag a chair each time the music stopped, usually just in
  time to be sat upon by one of the wooden soldiers. Xyranthes was trying to
  pluck a splinter from his right hand when the music again stopped. This time,
  Xyranthes nearly didn't make it to the chair. He had about a third of a span
  more of the chair than his counterpart. With a great deal of effort, he
  pushed the wooden soldier off. While he was seated, Xyranthes dug into his
  pocket, searching for something. When the chair disappeared, Xyranthes stood
  up with a small blackish box held in one hand, in the other a small piece of
  wood, colored red on one end. The next time the music stopped Xyranthes would
  be prepared to defend his chair. There was only one wooden soldier left, and
  one chair, and Xyranthes had no intention of loosing this one. The twanging
  of the musical instrument, something like a David's harp in sound, but
  clearer in tone, ceased. The wooden soldier leapt for the chair, but
  Xyranthes, while leaping for the chair himself, struck the little stick's red
  end against a rough part of the box. It caught aflame at once, and the wooden
  soldier veered off in order to avoid the little fire. The chair was Xyranthes
  for the taking, and so he did. As the chair and soldier faded away the voice
  cried out.
  "CHEAT, CHEAT, YOU CHEATED!"
  "No, I didn't, read the rules!" Xyranthes shouted back.
  "DID TOO!"
  "Did not."
  "UHUH, YES YOU DID, YOU CHEATED, YOU DID I SAW YOU, YOU DID!"
  "Did not."
  "DID TO."
  "Did not times infinity." Xyranthes replied, and won the argument with his
  superior logic.
  With that, the same cry accompanied the opening of the trees, allowing the
  maelstroms to pass.
  "You know, he was a better debater than many of the nobles I hear at court."
  Xyranthes muttered, and smiled.
  _________________

  It feels so good to be RPing again. Plus, I should be able to RP again more
  regularly. My computer should be back home next weekend, so I won't have to
  use the crummy connection at the library any more. The stupid thing has a
  time limit to it, so I rarely get a chance to write any RP's on it, but next
  week should mark the return of my computer, so I won't have any more
  problems.

  Peter
  <><

 
  Darren was lagging at the rear of the party, unwilling to involve himself
  with such silly games. When he had had to remove the second to last layer
  of the hot potato (he recognized that one from one day in the Andoran army
  when each of several commanders tried to pass a difficult, nearly suicidal
  assignment onto each other. Guess whose commander ended up with it), he had
  nearly panicked. But simply standing in the rear did not seem to present
  any difficulties... and did not seem to hurt their progress.
  Their path was clear, down a path set in impenetrable wood. Then they came
  upon a pair of trees which framed the path. Just beyond them the path began
  branching.
  Suddenly the voice declared, BEYOND THIS DOOR LIES THE NEXT CHALLENGE.
  Everyone reflexively looked at Xyranthes for a little hint as to what it
  might be. He simply said, "It might be a maze. We try to find the way
  through. Don't get lost."
  Xyranthes took the first left, and the others set out in different
  directions. Darren remained at the entrance and watched Tareena enter the
  maze. As she passed out of sight, he was surprised to lose his sense of her
  position. A moment's attempt showed he couldn't sieze saidin either.
  A few minutes later Xyranthes returned, somewhat startled to be back.
  Darren asked, "Hello! What was your path? I'll try to make a map." he knelt
  and began tracing the visible part ofthe path in the dust.
  Xyranthes knelt and began describing turns and vague lengths. After a
  minute of trying to compare lengths and failing, he said, "I'll count it
  out and tell you then."
  Most of the others similarly returned, and Darren had them begin counting
  paces.
  When Xyranthes was back, he described several twists and turns -
  fortunately they were all right angles - though at one point he said, "I
  don't remember there being an odd number of turns here but... I'm here, not
  over there, so there must be an odd number."
  Darren nodded. "Right. Otherwise it doesn't form a loop. Well, that's it.
  Would you check out the other branches?" But Xyranthes was already into the
  maze.
  Alcinia was ready to describe hers. "Four paces from that left turn over
  there, it branches right. I went straight. Umm, ten more paces, it turned
  right. Only three later it branched left. I went left. Twenty three
  paces..."
  "I doubt that."
  "What?"
  "You would have crossed Xyranthes' path right here." Darren pointed at the
  map. There was an intersection.
  Alcinia frowned. "He probably forgot a turn like he said."
  Darren nodded as he continued tracing out Tareena's path even though it
  crossed what he had for Xyranthes. "How did _you_ remember all those paces?"
  "This is nothing next to a city. I'll go check,though."
  Darren smiled as she went off again.
  Traighan was ready, and began describing his route with some disbelief.
  "Well, I took that right turn. Ten paces later, the path turned right. Ten
  paces later, it happened again. Ten paces later, it happened again."
  "That puts you right in front of the entrance. Are you sure it didn't get
  smaller?"
  "Yes, but it gets worse. Ten paces later it branched, I went straight, and
  I came out over there." He was pointing at one of the left turns.
  Darren considered. "I think... there is more to this than a maze. Try doing
  that again."
  Traighan ran off, and Darren was about to get the route that Talia had
  taken, when Alcinia returned, panting. "I checked both of our routes. We're
  both right."
  Darren frowned. "Did you see Xyranthes?"
  "Passed him."
  "So you remembered it right. Good."
  Tareena returned for the first time. "There is something wrong about this
  maze."
  "Yes. It doesn't work out right."
  Andraia was right behind her. "I think we can solve this maze anyway."
  Darren was astonished. "You can't even stick to one wall to do it!"
  Andraia smiled. "That only works for very elementary mazes. But we can
  simply try every turn and see what happens. If it looks like there is
  somewhere with infinite turns, we will try that last."
  So they kicked dust over the map and replaced it with a table of left and
  right turns. Again, everyone went out to explore, but this time only
  counting which way they went at every intersection. The day wore on, and
  after two hours, it became clear that there was no solution. Two places
  made many left turns in a row had had them going for a while, but after
  overlapping fifty times they had ended up intersecting (and reversing
  direction on the way out). So the whole maze formed loops or dead-ends.
  The party stood back from the maze, those who were close enough peering at
  the twenty-foot-long table even when they didn't understand it.
  Darren fumed. Andraia remained calm. Darren jumped up and began kicking the
  dirt. "He doesn't need to let us through! Who ever said there needed to be
  a way to win?" Andraia nodded sagely while Tareena took Darren by his
  shoulders, saying, "Messing up the table isn't going to get us through."
  Darren deliberately kicked dirt all over the table, destroying it. "We know
  what it has to say! THERE IS NO WAY THROUGH!"
  With that, he futilely tried to sieze saidin. There was no power, still. In
  frustration, he went through the motions of cutting a weave. In particular,
  the weave of a portal in between the two trees framing the entrance to the
  maze. That must be what it was that was causing this, but if only he could
  touch saidin!
  A straight path suddenly appeared where the maze had been, and Darren
  suddenly realized he actually was holding saidin. Flippantly, he commented,
  "Well, there's no way through aside from that one. Let's get going!"
  The voice commented on their passage only with a roar of a whine.
  {Hiding one trick with another? He may be childish but he's getting
  extremely clever... enough to stall us for several hours! Maybe he thought
  he was being fair, that one of us would... have a tantrum... and try that
  sooner. Being grown up seems to be a liability. But he has stalled us a
  long time with this one. I wonder what the next challenge will be?}
  ****
  OOC: I think a coloring book would be neat.

  Luke

 

  The group wearily walked into the next clearing, wondering what was in store
  for them. They had been through endless games, some difficult, some not at
  all. Each was remembering how much energy they had had as children and how,
  as adults, it just wasn't the same. Looking around, they had entered a
  clearing similar to the one at the very beginning. It was a circle of trees
  with no end and no beginning. They waited for the next monster or challenge
  to appear before them. They waited and they waited. Then waited some more.
  "WHO DARES TO ENTER? WHO HAS COME FORTH TO ACCEPT THE CHALLENGE?
  ONLY THE STRONG SHALL SURVIVE AND THE WEAK SHALL WEEP THE TEARS OF DEFEAT!
  STAND AND FACE YOUR DOOM!"
  The challenge rang forth once more, defiant and strong. When will it end,
  Tareena thought to herself. Surely it can't keep going and going. There must
  be a way. Just as she was thinking these thoughts to herself, Stevan stepped
  forward and began shouting, seemingly to the air. "Enough of this! This is
  where it ends! No more! We have played your games and we have defeated you.
  Show yourselves so that we may fight like adults and get out of here.
  As if on cue, the clearing disappeared. They were no longer surrounded
  by trees. In front of them loomed a gigantic volcano, spouting lava and
  rocks from it's belly. At the very top, along the rim, stood a row of the
  channelers. Holding Janara.
  "It is to late, you can't save her now. Yes, you beat us in our games
  but you cannot win now. She is ours, she will be sacrificed."
  Tareena wondered if she would ever get the eerie childish cackles of
  these people out of her head. What appeared to be their leader strode away
  from the edge, where he had been addressing their group and suddenly, drums
  began to pound a rhythm, synonymous with death.
  ===============================
  OOC: Okay, Steve asked me to get us to this point and then he has an RP that
  will take us on from here. Good job everyone with the games, I really liked
  reading them. Emily, I thought your chutes and ladders was really cool idea,
  I remember playing that all of the time as a kid. Keep up the great RP's
  everyone and let's get um!

 With each drumbeat, his heart beat faster. Now was his real testing. Never
  before had he faced a situation of which there was no way out of. How could
  they fight so quickly against so many channellers?

  Frozen by panic, all he could do was watch as the leader began the ceremony.
  In what seemed like dream-like slow motion, the leader's arms were raised
  above his head, then his body was crouched on the floor, his arms
  outstretched as if he was bowing. All that time the channellers' lips were
  moving, endlessly repeated words handed down from a time long ago, but to
  Stevan they were just saying one word, one mantra...death.

  Then the leader rose so he was standing, and he raised his arms, letting the
  long, loose sleeves of his sacrificial robe dangle down. And in his hand
  could be clearly seen a dagger, glinting in the sun, its silver blade not
  bringing life, but death, death to a comrade. Then echoing down the mountain
  could be heard his last words before the sacrifice, a chilling voice, a
  fearful noise, and an evil sound to the ears of the people from the Black
  Tower. The dagger fell...

  Suddenly the ground shook violently. The volcano began to rumble, and lava
  poured out of its top. It ran quickly down the mountainside, burning the
  little vegetation that was there. The mad channellers began screaming, and
  ran down the mountainside.

  "The Fire-God is not pleased with our sacrifice! She must go free!" Janara
  was pushed down the side of the volcano by the mad channellers, who cut her
  bonds as they shrieked for the Water-God to save them. But nothing could, for
  at that moment the rim of the volcano gave way to a terrifying cloud of gas
  and ash hurling down the slope of volcano at an amazing speed.

  Many of the slower channellers had already been caught in hit, and were in no
  doubt dead. And the cloud was now quickly advancing on Janara and some of the
  faster madmen. Removing himself from his previous static state, he yelled the
  first thing that came into his head.

  "Link!" He quickly linked with Andraia, and then the others soon followed as
  he wove a weave of Air and plucked Janara from the mercy of the fiercesome
  cloud to the amazement of the madmen. As soon as she was in their camp, some
  of the Dragonsworn set upon her with their Healing prowess.

  Stevan then changed his weave so that there was a shield of Air surrounding
  the members of the Black Tower. One by one the other mad channellers were
  swallowed by the cloud, until it hit Stevan's weave, where it diverted and
  went around it. Still, a tremendous heat overpowered them, and Stevan was
  forced to enlargen the weave so that that cloud of heat didn't come so near
  them.

  The ground continued to rumble, and the lava kept pouring down the mountain,
  only diverting when it hit the shield. Stevan was gritting his teeth now -
  keeping the shield going was tiring and painful work, as the taint washed
  over him - its filth sickening him. Only the bond was strengthening him.

  As a result he wasn't paying much attention as to what was happening around
  him, until Shea cried, "Look at the mountain!" Stevan raised his head and
  looked at the side of the volcano - it was heaving as if it were a turbulent
  sea. He stared amazed as it exploded, a huge cloud of gas carrying the pieces
  of the mountainside far away.
 
 

  The lava had long stopped flowing and the earthquake had long since stopped
  when the gas finally cleared, and rocks finished raining down on their shield
  from above. Now totally exhausted, Stevan let down the shield and looked
  around at the remains of the volcano. The side of the mountain facing them
  had all but disappeared. But more had happened than that. A huge crack in the
  ground reached from the mountain face to about ten yards from them.

  Curious, Stevan began walking over to it, until he was stopped by an excited
  Aramis. "Tsorovan'm'hael, look what we found on the ground!" Taking it off
  the Asha'man, he turned the object over in his hand. It was white and shaped
  like an arrow. Channeling into it, he leapt back as a dart of Air shot from
  it, thankfully thudding into the ground.

  "A ter'angreal!" he exclaimed, more in shock than delight, as his mind began
  to think about where it could have come from...and his mind led his line of
  thought back to the crack in the earth.

  Aramis and Andraia followed him as he went over to it...and he gasped. The
  crack opened into a...cavity...inside the Earth. And in that cavity he could
  see the remnants of buildings and tall towers that did not belong to a city
  of this age, a city like Cairhien, Tear, Illian, or even the magnificant
  Caemlyn and the wonderous Tar Valon, but to a city of many years ago...a city
  from the Age of Legends.

  That was where the ter'angreal came from...and therefore into the underground
  city they must go...
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------
 
 

  Here's your instructions: go into the city, search it, find the ter'angreal
  cache, get out. Simple heh? Well...actually, you can make it as complicated
  as you like. Anything can happen to you in the city, just make it cool!

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

 Ariana watched with a mixture of fascination and horror as the volcano vented
  its seeming fury, and the earth rent to reveal spires and buildings from an
  Age beyond memory. "Wow." was all the Dragonsworn could manage as she stared
  into the crack, marvelling at the architecture and afraid to even think of
  the wonders surely inside. "Just...wow." For a long time she was silent,
  staring with the others. Then her conscience jumped on her. Poor Janara.
  She left off her gaping, reluctantly, and went to find her. When she did,
  she lowered her head like a novice in trouble. "Janara, please forgive me
  for leaving you behind. I wouldn't have...." Ariana did not make excuses.
  They were some of the hardest words of her life, because she dreaded the
  response. She had been so concerned for herself that she had fled and left
  Janara with those crazies. Tensely, she waited for Janara's response......

  Ok, i ran like a craven. Now i feel guilty. grr, i hate guilt. guilt
  should be Healable, or something. Some easy way to get rid of it...

 
  The light pearing over the jagged maw of the crevice sparkled on the
  remnants of the broken and shattered buildings, but also on the few that
  remained whole, seemingly as untouched as the day they were erected, almost
  livable. Andraia lifted the hem of her skirt and began making her way down
  the rock-strewn slope, by way of a small chasm that seemed to be almost hewn
  from the living rock for the sole purpose of being a pathway. After a
  startled pause she heard footsteps behind her as other scrambled to catch up.
  First to reach her was Stevan, since he was both Tsorovan'm'hael and her
  bondmate, as well as not one to be left behind.
  "What are you doing, Andraia? You can't just start down without
  consulting-"
  "Our decision would have been to go down, Stevan. Why should I wait as
  the discussion comes to this natural conclusion? It's simply not logical.
  There is nothing here to hurt us now, anyway. The madmen all fled or were
  consumed, the lava is stopped, and this city is open and waiting. I am not
  going to sit when I can act with reasonable justification." She continued
  down the slope, which was gentle enough to avoid slipping cautious feet, and
  the others followed her.

  The towers of the city, what remained of them, were larger than they had
  appeared from the rim. Even broken they loomed high overhead, rearing
  majestically into the sky, only to end in points, like broken teeth tearing
  at the blue of the sky, exposed after countless years. The city itself was
  uniformly made of a grayish-black stone, dotted with sparkling flecks of
  mica, some sort of igneous rock, hewn from the volcanic rock the city had
  been built near and that had eventually engulfed it. Windows peered into the
  street, empty like the eye sockets of a long-dead skull, but Andraia ignored
  the cold shiver that passed down her spine, and the sensation of being
  watched. There was no one here; the city had been abandoned since the Age of
  Legends or before, and buried who knew how long.
  After a quiet discussion the grou split up, and small groups of two or
  three went off in different directions to explore. Andraia glanced around
  and began walking toward a sturdy-looking building, Stevan beside her. Now,
  to see what secrets this city held in it's grasp.

  Andraia Korinth

 
  Tareena stared upward, as far as her eye could see, at the great stone
  archway jetting towards the sky. Artwork along the archway revealed strange
  visions, things in which her untrained eye could not comprehend. Scrolling
  letters spoke of long ago stories, telling a tale rich with meaning, yet so
  far from her grasp. In awe, she marveled, a little fearful of the unknown.
  Stevan had ordered the city to be searched, and search they would.
  With a deep breath she motioned towards the arch taking the first steps
  under it's massive bulk. Without waiting to see if Darren, Traighan and
  Raelyah would follow, she entered into the depths. A bone chilling cold
  immediately brought forth goose bumps forcing her to vigorously rub her arms.
  The floor began to descend causing the vast room to appear even larger.
  Reaching out, she let her fingers trace the intricate carvings on the walls.
  Their footsteps echoed in the cavernous room, not even coming close to
  breaking up the overwhelming sense of space. Looking ahead, a frown creased
  her brow. They had been going down at a steady pace but now they had reached
  a stone wall. There did not appear to be any way around it. There only other
  option was to go back up the ramp they had just came down.
  "This doesn't make any sense. Why would they put a ramp that leads from
  the doorway, down, and not have it go anywhere? We must be missing something."
  "Yes, we are missing the building I wanted to go into just because you
  wanted to come into here." Tareena turned and coolly looked her bondmate in
  the eye. "Look Darren, just because you are still pouting about the maze
  doesn't mean you have to take it out on the rest of us. Either you want to
  go on with me or you don't. I don't have a chain around your neck." Tareena
  smiled to take the bite out of her words, for she truly did not want to
  fight, she just wasn't going to put up with this uncharacteristic sulking for
  much longer. She knew she was sick of it, let alone what the other two
  thought.
  "Now, what do you make of this? Any ideas? Anyone?" Tareena felt the
  bite of a pebble in her boot, a remnant of making their way down the gravely
  volcano path. Leaning down, she rested her rump against the offending wall,
  reaching to remove the problem. As she did so, a great screeching nose
  resounded inside the room. Clapping her hands to her ears she turned and
  stared in amazement as the wall began to move inward, creating a path where
  there previously had been a wall.
  Wide eyes, she turned and faced her friends. "Well, where the head
  failed, the butt made progress. Shall we?"
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  -----------
  I thought we might explore and find something cool in the bowels of the
  earth. I hope no one minds me bringing them along. It's been so long I
  wasn't sure if your
  character name was Shea or Reaylah so forgive me my mistakes :) I claim
  stupidity freely but I hope you join us :) Luke, Mike, you guys ready? I
  hope so!

 

  Dazed at this turn of events, Shea could only nod. Tareena started down the
  passageway with Darren close behind. Not wanting to interfere with what was
  obviously a private issue, the novitiate turned around on the ramp and
  surveyed the incredible city for a moment before submitting herself to the
  passage's shadows, scampering to catch up with the others.
  As soon as she was close enough behind Traighan to be certain that if she
  suddenly fell down a false floor or something, somebody would notice, Shea
  relaxed her pace and began to take in her surroundings. The narrow walls
  were lined floor-to-ceiling with intricate mosaics. Not that meant much; at
  five feet eight inches her head was perhaps a foot below the ceiling. Thank
  you, Light, for not making me taller. Grinning at the thought, Shea leaned
  to examine the mosiac closer. Why bother with such elaborate designs in this
  dank, dark hall? Her question was answered almost immediately with a bump on
  the noggin. Scowling, she rubbed her head and surrieptiously stuck her
  tongue out at the sconce that had so rudely protruded from the tiles.
  Similar sconces lined the walls on the right side every ten or so feet. Of
  the torches that had once lit the way, nothing remained.
  "Where does this thing go?" Shea wondered aloud. They'd been walking in
  the darkness for several minutes now, with no sign of side passages or an end
  somewhere. There had to be a reason for it. Conceivably it could have wound
  over a cavern, or past sewers or the like, but, thinking of the way Tareena
  had found the entrance to the tunnel itself, Shea doubted it.
  "This place, this city," she remarked, stopping where she stood, "is not
  the most open of locations. Here we are in a land of hostile and insane
  channelers who try to kill anyone on arrival. They have a fountain with
  waters that are the stuff of daydreams, nightmares, and worse. The city that
  must have once been their capital is built beneath a mountain; I don't think
  anyone, even madmen, would have the tenacity to knowingly construct a city
  such as this beneath a live volcano. The entrance to this passage was a
  secret in itself. Now, what do you think the odds are that from here on out,
  things suddenly widen, open up, and make themselves clear?"
  The three of them looked at her. Shea made a wry face. "Not very
  likely. It's a secret within a mystery behind an enigma. I'm looking for
  the way out of here."
  <>
  Slowly, and as if with new senses, the group of four continued down.
  Tareena kicked experimentally at the wall every few paces. Darren ran his
  fingers along the mosiac, feeling for catches, and Traighan concentrated on
  the floor, looking for for telltale cracks or other irregularities. Shea,
  meanwhile, fixed her attention on the Light-blasted sconces. One of them had
  had the gall to give her a bump on the cranium, and as she yanked at every
  one she passed by, she satisfied herself with thoughts of retribution.
  Redemption came loud and creaky when, upon her perfunctory pull, a sconce
  gave and sprang out into the passage, a part of the wall extending with it.
  Smoothing back her by-now dusty blond locks, Shea stared into the blackness
  that had opened up behind the door. "Well." The others filled in the narrow
  space around her and she gave them all her best "brave adventurer" smile as
  she stepped into the new passage and was seemingly swallowed by shadows.
  "Shall weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee?"

  Hmm. Shea landed on her rump, hard, and looked up. Though it wouldn't
  have mattered if she'd been looking at the bottom of her shoe; there wasn't a
  speck of light in the cavern she'd just fallen into. Concentrating hard, she
  embraced the Source and channeled a glowing sphere of light. The Novitiate
  congratulated herself for such a feat and examined the chamber's opening, a
  small window from the steep slide-like drop into the room. Knowing what to
  expect, arriving wouldn't be so bad. "It's alright!" she yelled, hoping
  Tareena and the others could hear her up there. "There's kind of a slide
  thing into a big cavern, and..." she trailed off when she heard noises
  indicating descents similar to hers, and turned to look at the rest of the
  room. A heap of gleaming instruments filled one corner, and even an
  untrained girl like she could plainly see what was obvious. A thump sounded
  and Tareena walked up behind her. "Ter'angreal," whispered Shea. The two
  women exchanged a glance before the Dragonsworn set to studying the lot of
  artifacts and Shea continued her circuit around the room.
  A little piece of blackness more dark than the shadows that suffused the
  entire cavern seemed to reach out where Shea put her foot. Shortly, she
  found herself lying face down on the rough cavern floor. As she pushed
  herself up, it suddenly occured to her that this chamber, unlike the passage
  above, was not finished off. In fact, Shea hadn't noticed ANY artwork in
  here at all. Pondering it, she leaned on the heap of junk that had caused
  her to trip. And promptly jumped away.
  It was not...a heap of junk. It was a heap of bodies, preserved in the
  horror of the death that had claimed them, thousands of years ago. Their
  faces clearly showed their pain, a pain Shea thought she could almost feel
  herself. Nobody had ever said that being engulfed in liquid magma was a fun
  way to die.
  Gulping, Shea backed away from the petrified cadavers, and nearly bumped
  into Traighan, who along with Darren had also made the drop into the cavern.
  She swung her One Power-charged light around and spoke. "The way I see it,
  we have only two problems. There's that," she said, shining her lamp over
  the dead, "or should I say them. And then there's also that I haven't I clue
  how to get out of here."
  The looked at her, and she looked at them. A secret within a mystery
  behind an enigma, she'd called it. And here was the riddle wrapped neatly
  beneath it all.
  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*
  Whew, that was long! I'm sorry to have RPed you all so much, so feel free to
  change your actions. I just had this idea. The idea of Pyropolis and the
  volcano reminded me so of Pompeii, I figured I had to take advantage of it.
  Pompeii's an incredible place, and the bodies are something else. I think we
  might have just found some Pyropolian prison or something. What's your take
  on the riddle?

  ~Rae
  Shea
  Novitiate

 

  La'rece stood near. "I'll wait here with her, the rest of you can explore
  whatever seems to be going on now...something about an underground city..." All
  the people around hesitated. "She's fine," La'rece said in an authoritative
  voice. Then she brushed her hair out of her face, "I mean, thank you for your
  assistance, I can handle things from here." A couple people wished Janara well
  and left. "I'll see what is going on too," Ivan said, and left with the
  others. Janara grinned. He was a very independent man but he knew when to take
  La'rece's 'suggestions.'

  La'rece was about to say something to Janara again when Ariana approached.
  ------------------------------------------------------------
  Then her conscience jumped on her. Poor Janara. She left off her gaping,
  reluctantly, and went to find her. When she did, she lowered her head like a
  novice in trouble. "Janara, please forgive me for leaving you behind. I
  wouldn't have...." Ariana did not make excuses. They were some of the hardest
  words of her life, because she dreaded the response. She had been so concerned
  for herself that she had fled and left Janara with those crazies. Tensely, she
  waited for Janara's response......
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  -------

  "I don't blame you for leaving," Janara said quickly before La'rece could get a
  word out. Janara held up her open hand to La'rece to signal for her not to say
  anything. La'rece didn't know the whole story. "I called out to you, at least
  that's what I remember, my memories are a bit fuzzy, but I told you to leave if
  you could. The area they were taking us, it was shielding my link to La'rece
  and
  Ivan somehow, someone needed to signal the other BT members because I don't
  think
  they could have followed the bond. From the looks of things, someone did a good
  job and I assume it was you." Janara smiled at Ariana.

  Janara Dragonsworn
  Bond mate to La'rece and Ivan

   Mura'shar and Myiona walked the streets of the ancient city. It was
  eerie that such an enormous city was so quiet. There was no sign of life; no
  voices other than the other members of the Black Tower, no birds, no insects,
  no animals of any kind. Rather than calming him, the silence made Mura'shar
  more uneasy, like he was walking through a graveyard. Myiona reached out and
  squeezed his hand. He smiled At least he wasn't alone here.
  The groups had gotten smaller and smaller in order to cover more of the
  city, but everyone was careful to stay within shouting distance of each
  other. Right now, Myiona and Mura'shar were searching what looked like a
  residential district, and a wealthy one. It was hard to believe that people
  actually lived here, but even after thousands of years there were signs that
  people were born, grew up, and died here once upon a time.
  "Why are we looking here?" Myiona asked She clearly didn't like the idea
  of exploring crumbling buildings whose owners have been dead for three thousan
  d years or more. Neither did he.
  Mura'shar shrugged "It's as good a place to start as any. This
  neighborhood has the biggest houses we've seen, so I'm guessing that means
  the most important people lived here. If anyone would own ter'angreal, it
  would be them, right" Myiona shrugged and said nothing, though it was
  obvious even to him that his logic was thin to say the least. They began
  searching the most intact houses.
  The homes that were still standing had much of what one would expect:
  beds, chairs, and tables. Or the remains of them. Some things puzzled him,
  though. In sections where the walls had collapsed were remains of what looked
  like metal wires and pipes. Why would anyone put such things behind walls,
  where no one could reach them?
  After the sixth house, he decided they were getting nowhere. They had
  found only one ter'angreal, and all it did was play music when it was held
  and a weave of Spirit was woven into it. There was also a brief moment of
  amusement when Myiona found a hidden compartment in the sleeping chambers of
  one house. Inside were several crystal vials of water. Colored water from
  the fountain, or someplace like it. He wasn't certain what to make of that.
  He was about to call Myiona and ask for an idea on where else to search
  when he heard her shout from an upstairs room.
  Mura'shar ran up a rickety flight of stairs. Most of the homes had at
  least two stories, but this one had stairs in poor condition. When he
  reached her side, she was leaning out a window, pointing at something. He
  had attracted the attention of several members of the Black Tower as well.
  He recognized Regnar, Alan, and Ariana in the street below, looking up at her
  curiously.
  She was pointing towards the center of the town. "There's something
  there! Something BIG! I think that's what we're looking for."
  Mura'shar looked over her shoulder. Whatever it was, it was big. It
  looked like a huge, black statue. It was bigger than all but the largest
  buildings in the area. He and Myiona quickly left the building and headed
  for the statue.
  It turned out to be in almost the exact center of the city. It was a
  statue, carved from some kind of black volcanic stone. It was a man. He was
  smiling down at the city, but the smile was cruel, not benevolent. Like he
  was contemplating crushing the city. Despite the cruelty, the face was
  handsome, but the artist for some reason chose to put red stones in the eyes
  and mouth, so in the dim light it looked like there were flames behind the
  face.
  He heard footsteps behind them. Others had come to investigate the
  discovery. Mura'shar and Myiona gazed up in awe at the effort that must have
  gone into such a disquieting image. Was this the madmen's God of Fire?

  ______________________________

  I'm sure most of you recognized similarities between the statue and a certain
  villain in the WoT series, but they don't have to be the same person. Just
  tossing something out 'cause I've hit a dry spell for rps. Forsaken? Deity?
  Someone else? Some weird AoL artifact? You decide:)

  Jake
  Marked Asha'man

 As Myiona stared up at the black statue, she had a weird feeling. It's eyes
  seemed to follow her where ever she went. The eyes seemed to glow and made
  her skin crawl. "I don't like that thing," she muttered wanting to get away
  from it. "If it is a ter'angreal, nothing good could come from using it. I
  don't care if it is the most powerful ter'angreal ever made. I do not even
  want to be near it."
  She tried to turn and walk away, but she could not move. She could see a
  glow surrounding the figure. Waves of power rippled from it, crashing into
  her and sending her sprawling to the ground. Myiona gasped for air, feeling
  like she was being crushed by the power. Then everything went black.
  When she opened her eyes, she found herself in a richly decorated room.
  Myiona, no, Murienna smoothed the fabric of her gown and looked at her
  reflection. A great ball was to be given this night and she would be
  presented to Lord Tarlach.
  The scene shifted rapidly. Murienna was dancing with a handsome young man
  when a hush fell upon the crowd. Lord Tarlach was descending the staircase.
  The music stopped suddenly and all eyes fell upon their leader. Murienna
  felt his gaze upon her and she lowered her eyes demurely.
  Murienna was standing looking out the window at the night sky. "It won't be
  long now," a voice said behind her. "This city will rise in prominence and
  I will rule the world. The price is really small compared to the gain."
  She turned and looked at him as he stood gazing into the fire. He walked
  toward her and pulled her to him for one last kiss as the dagger pierced her
  breast.
  Myiona gasped for breath. She could still feel the sensation of the blade
  cutting through her flesh. She touched her chest and felt a wetness there.
  She lifted the finger to her face and found it was covered with blood. "Oh
  light," she moaned, "I am dying."

 Eventually, after an indeterminable stretch of time, Ariana moved. She
  stepped cautiously toward the desk. The figure of the dead teacher didn't
  move, did not magically come to life. She stepped even closer, then slowly
  worked her way past him. And then the books captured her attention. They
  were not like the books she knew; elegantly bound in leather and adorned with
  gems and precious metals and obviously made for the rich who had the money
  and education have them produced. The covers were plain brown leather, worn
  in many places and in some cases water-damaged or even torn. Only a few had
  gold inscriptions on the spines. Feeling almost as if she was dreaming, she
  reached out a hand to touch one. Vaguely she noticed that it was trembling.
  Then the cover was under her hand, and she pulled one from the shelf. Openng
  it, she slowly discovered that it was a medical text. She closed it and
  looked at the others with wonder. She began exploring each one, starting in
  order and ccarefully replacing each one when she had flipped through it. Ligh
  t! Light. The knowledge of the Age of Legends, and I'm looking at it!
  Touching it! It was an incredible thought. And by the time she had flipped
  through them all, she knew she could not leave them here to sit unread when
  they could be of such use. With exquisite care, Ariana stacked them in her
  arms, then turned to leave. When she passed the remains of the man, however,
  she set them down. His startled expression seemed to be directed at the bold
  youn would-be student who was taking his prized books out of his office under
  his very nose. Ariana regarded the corpse.
  The feeling of the room was heavy, but not oppressive; laden with age and the
  solemnity of the dead ancient scholar and the measureless knowledge it
  contained. The young cripple gently set down the books on the floor, then
  went to stand before the desk. "Sir, I take this knowledge to better the
  lives of those I live with. Please forgive me if I seem rude." There was
  only silence. "I swear I will care for them and protect them with my own
  life, and will never let them sit unused on a shelf as a symbol of pride or
  wealth, and that never, upon my soul, will I let this precious gift go unused
  when they could be used to help another." The young Aes Sedai swore with all
  her heart, wondering if the man's spirit could even understand her language,
  or knew of the Oaths that bound all Aes Sedai of her time to any oath they
  swore. The room seemed to lose a little of its pressure, suddenly, and
  Ariana felt a tiny breeze stir her hair. She had a flash of memory, her
  father's gentle smile when she had first told him she would be a Healer, and
  thought that the same warm approval was being showered down on her. And then
  she could have sworn she heard a voice, soft and full of humor like her
  father's, speak in her mind. Take them, child, take them and do what Healers
  have felt called to do since Time began. And my blessing on you, daughter,
  for your oath. I do not doubt you will do as you say, bound to it or not.
  But do not value knowledge above the lives of others. Go and do with them
  what they were meant for. You will do well. The next thing she knew, she
  was kneeling again, the books stacked beside her, before the desk. She bowed
  again, then curtsied so deeply her hair brushed the floor. Then she gathered
  her books and left the building, looking back only when she stood outside it
  once more. She knelt in the street and packed the books with infinite care
  in her pack, then strode off down the street. She knew she would never speak
  of this to anyone, but she would remember it until she left this life. Now,
  though, she had living people to find, and ter'angreal to look for. She
  strode off into the ruins, her pack carefully balanced to avoid disturbing
  its precious cargo.

  ok, there was a delay in getting part two out, sorry, the comp decided it had
  better things to do than let me send email, so it sent a message saying i
  didn't have enough memory to run this program and i should try to quit some
  programs , then it froze so i couldn't shut down anything. Sorry!

 La'rece was not best pleased. Watching intently as Ariana struggled with the
  possibility of Janara's anger for leaving her behind ... but Janara, as only
  she was able, seemed perfectly fine with events as they had unfolded.
  Perhaps fine was a bit of an overstatement, but not angry. For her part,
  La'rece was just glad that they had been able to retrieve Janara from the
  lunatics inhabiting the island. Exhausted and relieved, La'rece relaxed her
  defensive position and sat next to Janara. I need a glass of chilled wine
  and about a month's worth of rest. Light! An interesting woman, Ariana ...
  fascinating skin and eyes ... Janara's hand rubbing her aching shoulder made
  her smile ... I'm making Ivan give me a backrub tonight. Flaming lunatics!

  Lauren
  Bondmate to Ivan and Janara

 

  The statue? I don't know. Maybe this city was built to hide from that
  person who was erected a statue with the memory imprint of his evil deeds
  on it, with a little physical kicker thrown in? or who knows?

  and one last thing... the fountain we found had transparent water. The
  colors were hallucinations. oh well, it's done.

  *****

  As Shea disappeared into the pitch dark opening, her three companions look
  down after her, but not too closely - they didn't want to fall in
  themselves. A few moments later, they heard an echoed-to-incoherence shout,
  but it didn't sound bad. Tareena shrugged, said, "There must be some way
  out of there", sat on the edge, and pushed herself in.
  Traighan followed suit, but Darren, before following, tied a rope to one of
  the sconces and tested its strength with his full weight. He lowered
  himself down, but the rope ran out a ways before the surface became
  climbable. He could hear their conversation, so figured they were close
  enough that they could get to it when getting back up... especially with
  the aid of Air if they needed it. He flipped around and let go.

  Soot was covering everything here. Up top, Darren had noticed that for
  being on the inside of a volcano it was remarkably clean... exept for
  recently fallen dust from the eruption, which was still hot. He had wanted
  to go into a public-looking building, with wide entrances. Such would
  probably have a library or exhibits. Here... he would not have expected as
  much, but here there were ter'angreal to spare. Tareena was gingerly
  inspecting those she could detect, with Shea looking on.
  Traighan was poking at others with the power, trying to determine whether
  they were saidin or saidar based.
  Darren sat down between them, looking at each, ready to zap any adverse
  effects that any of them might begin to create. Things looked like they
  were not the most dangerous, so he set his head on his hand and stared at
  Tareena, wondering. Tareena glanced up at him, and Darren self-consciously
  looked away. Tareena returned to examining the triangular metal
  contraption. She looked up to say something and found him staring at her
  again. She stopped in mid-utterance, smiled, shook her head, and set back
  to work.
  ****

  Would continue but want to sleep and also let Lisa get a word in on this
  situation.

  Luke

 After trekking through half the city, Ariana came to another of the shabbier
  districts. With a careful eye out for stone gates, Ariana limped over to see
  what had caused the growing cluster of Black Tower members under a window.
  She got withing hearing range just in time to hear, "Big! I think that's
  what we're looking for." Reflexively, she looked toward the pointed-to
  object, and then joined the group as they went to check it out.
  "It" was a huge, and rather creepy, statue of a man with what seemed like
  rubies for his eyes and mouth. Unlike the strange place of study, this thing
  gave her the shivers. For someone who can take a corpse's books, you sure
  are jumpy about a statue, Ariana, she chided herself. If this was an example
  of the sorts of ter'angreal this city had, though, the Healer wanted nothing
  more to do with the city. Right now getting away from this thing seemed a
  very good idea... Apparently Myiona had the same idea; she said something
  Ariana could not hear and turned to go. Ariana watched as she suddenly paled
  and seemed to fall into a dream. Then just as suddenly, she cried out and
  put a hand to her chest. Alarmed, Ariana darted over. Somehow,
  unexplainably, Myiona was bleeding.
 

  just catching up to where we are...

 The streets were cold and dark, and Stevan shivered as he walked along them
  with Andraia. There were many towers on this street, each reaching many feet
  into the emptiness of the cavity, even if some of them had been broken in two
  by some terrible catastrophe.

  Through the bond he could sense Andraia, emotionless as ever, although he
  could feel her curiousity for her strange surroundings. And they certainly
  were strange. Unlike any tower he had ever seen, they were circular and built
  out of a strange grey-black stone, which was perfectly smooth all the way up
  the tower. He had seen towers before...but never so tall and so narrow. How
  could these structures stand?

  Andraia seemed to share his opinion. Although her statements on "logic" were
  often tiring and unnecessary, he had to agree with her when she gazed around
  and muttered, "Illogical..." under her breath.

  There was one tower that was taller than the others though, and when they
  reached it Stevan stopped. "Andraia, look at this one." She then stopped too,
  unaware that he had halted, and stared up at the monstrousity in front of
  her. This tower had a much larger diameter than the others, and rose at least
  forty feet higher, before being so decisively broken up near to the roof of
  the cavity. It was also periodically adorned with bands of decor, each band
  standing out from the side of the tower. Carved in them were strange
  patterns, which seemed to defy reality as they snaked in and out, seemed
  never to join, and never to end.

  Andraia was incapable of taking this all in. What in the Light was this woman
  taught in the White Tower? She stood, gazing at the patterns, muttering the
  mantra, "Illogical," repeatedly, as if in a trance. It took Stevan to grab
  her arm and yank her into the Tower before she snapped out of it.

  But once they were inside they froze again, for what they beheld was almost
  too amazing to mention. In the middle of the circular room was a transparent
  tube, with a golden door frame on the side nearest to them. It also had a
  small golden panel to the side of it with two symbols, one an arrow up, and
  one an arrow down.

  What appeared to be a bar was directly opposite them, in so much as it was a
  long, high desk, with space behind for someone to serve you. There was a sign
  above it, written in the Old Tongue, so Stevan didn't understand what it
  meant except that the characters read, "Reception." He would have to ask
  Xyranthes about that later...

  Also on that desk were strange boxes, with slots in them, apparently for
  things to be inserted. And on the walls all around them were pictures of all
  kinds - big, small, bright, dim, happy, sad, colourful and dull. The rest of
  the room was filled with many other weird objects, that so defied the concept
  of his reality that he could barely describe them.

  One such object was a large brightly covered box by a wall. Walking over to
  it he saw that it had buttons down one side, and a large flap at the bottom.
  Tentatively he pressed one. Nothing happened. He channelled into it. Nothing
  happened. "Blood and ashes!" he cursed, as he gave the useless box a
  frustrated kick.

  Thunk. Stevan frowned, puzzled, and then reached into the flap where the
  sound appeared to come from, and he pulled out a small metal cylinder. "What
  do you think of this Andraia?" he asked as he passed it to her. She turned it
  over in her hands, and then pulled a small flap on one end...a fizzing sound
  could be heard...and a strange brown liquid sprayed out over the two of them.

  Standing in shock, the two looked at each other in surprise, as Andraia let
  the metal cylinder drop to the ground. When it hit, more of the liquid poured
  out over the floor. "What was that?" she gasped. Stevan shrugged. He was
  getting used to things being strange in this place now.

  But it wasn't any of these things that intrigued him most. What intrigued him
  most was the fact that there was no visible way of getting to another floor.
  After pacing around the room for a few minutes, he sighed and decided to give
  up. Andraia was scowling to, as she usually did when things didn't conform to
  her definition of "logical." Well...a tall tower with only one floor did seem
  to involve a great lack of common sense.

  It was Andraia though who took the lead. "Why don't we exit out of the hole?"
  she suggested. She was right, there was a large hole in one wall, leading to
  a different street to the one they had entered this tower by. Stepping out,
  she gasped, and when Stevan followed, he had the same reaction.

  On the ground in front of them was a...triangle shaped box...although it had
  wheels...and a much shaplier design. Stepping over to it, Stevan pulled at
  the door on the side and he ducked inside. And he was faced with a mass of
  bright symbols, buttons and knobs, and a strange wheel shape immediately in
  front of him. Curiously, he pressed the button which read as "ON."

  A huge whirring sound went up around him, and some of the symbols on the
  surface in front of him lit up in green, red and orange, some flashing, some
  static. Andraia, who was looking in through the glass pane in the door on the
  other side of this strange object took a step back, and tried to divert her
  eyes from it. Opening her door for her, Stevan leaned over, "Come on Andraia,
  come on in! This is great!"

  When she cowered away again, Stevan leaned over some more and once more
  grabbed her, and yanked her into the box before closing her door behind her,
  amid protests of, "It's illogical! Material can't give light!"

  Ignoring her cowardly shouts, Stevan turned his attention to the gadgets
  inside the box. Just above the floor by his feet were three platforms,
  seemingly for feet. Testing his hypothesis, he put his foot on the one
  furthest to the right...
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  -------------------------------------------

  k, guess what's going to happen next :) Sorry for boring you...I think this
  RP's too long and with little action...but if you haven't fallen asleep yet
  then I congratulate you :) Feel free to explore this city as long as you wish.

  Steve
  <><

 Mura'shar could sense power emanating from the statue. And something
  else, he couldn't describe it exactly, but it brought out all sorts of
  emotions in him: pain, fear, anger, hate. It made his skin crawl having that
  face staring down at him like he was a bug on the ground. But if this was a
  clue, or better yet a cure, to the disease striking down the Sea Folk, they
  would have to examine it.
  Myiona liked it even less than he did "If it is a ter'angreal, nothing
  good could come from using it. I
  don't care if it is the most powerful ter'angreal ever made. I do not even
  want to be near it."
  She started to turn, but she suddenly froze where she stood. Mura'shar
  felt a wave of the One Power emanate from the statue, sending Myiona
  sprawling on the ground.
  Mura'shar ran to her side, but as far as he could tell, she was fine.
  She was sleeping, in fact. He stood and glanced back at the statue.
  Whatever struck her came from the statue. Should he leave her here and
  investigate? Or wait for someone else to show up, or for Myiona to awaken on
  her own?
  His curiosity was still warring with his protectiveness when he felt a
  pain in his chest that dropped him to his knees. At first he thought someone
  had shot him with an arrow. But it wasn't him, something happened to Myiona.

  His bondmate gasped and put a hand to her chest. It came away red.
  "Oh light," she moaned, "I am dying."
  That decided the matter for Mura'shar. Forgetting all matters of
  propriety, he unlaced her blouse to find the wound. Blood poured a wicked
  looking dagger wound that just missed her heart. But she was dying anyway.
  Drawing as much of the One Power as he could, he put all of his puny Healing
  skills to work, knowing it wasn't enough. The damage was too great for him.
  A voice spoke from behind him "What happened? I saw her fall, but there
  was no attack. Here, let me.
  It was Ariana. She knows Healing. She was a Yellow at the White Tower,
  wasn't she? He stood up as Ariana examined Myiona's wound. By now Myiona
  was unconscious again.
  Mura'shar shivered as saidar was channeled. Ariana was speaking quietly.
  "The wound is deep, and she's lost a lot of blood. What is this from, a
  knife ? There are no Gray Men around, are there?"
  I don't know. She was right next to me when she collapsed. She seemed
  to be asleep, and then..." It was obvious what happened then. HE had a
  suspicion of what happened, too. Sometimes Myiona's dreams were more real
  than ordinary dreams. Terrifyingly real. "Will she ...recover?"
  "I think so, yes. Though it will take some time. Where are you going"
  She called the last part out as Mura'shar headed for the statue"
  Mura'shar was near bursting with the Power. He was relieved that Myiona
  would live. But he wanted to make sure this thing didn't hurt her again.
  "This isn't what we're looking for. It nearly killed Myiona. So I'm going
  to destroy it" He called over his shoulder, not really caring if she heard
  or not. She was too busy with Myiona to stop him anyway.
  He could already feel the assault beginning on his mind. Nothing
  specific. He must not have the sensitivity to the se things Myiona has. But
  as he got closer to the statue, it grew in intensity.
  He saw all manner of betrayal and death. He saw whole cities fed to
  Trollocs at one man's command. He saw a mad channeler slaughter dozens of
  Aes Sedai. He saw the sun blotted from the sky and all manner of horrors
  descend on a country, and people rejoiced at its coming.
  He also saw simpler betrayals. Confidence artists cheating money from a
  man. Lies told by children to get other children in trouble. He saw a man
  hit his wife in a drunken rage. He saw all manner of pain and suffering
  great and small. But the ones that caused death were the most common.
  He was maybe ten feet when he saw an inscription on the base of the
  statue. It was badly faded and in the Old Tongue. But there was a word he
  knew: Chaos
  As he read that, he sensed the One Power being used, and the full horror
  of the history of the Land of the Madmen flooded into him. What he was
  before was but the beginning. Before the Land became an island, when the
  Forsaken still walked the earth. Now he saw everything that happened in the
  Breaking. He saw the decay of society and the inexorable fall to barbarism,
  and the horrors that came after.
  He saw the statue carved as a history lesson and warning to flee the
  land, flee the Fire Within the Darkness, by the last of the sane. He saw a
  volcano a volcano rise to bury both city and warning. He saw the warning
  fail anyway, to become a trap rather than an escape.
  It was too much to take. Centuries and more of suffering poured into his
  mind in moments. He tried to back away, tried to cry out, but he lost his
  balance and fell over, blood leaking from his ears and nose. The wind was
  knocked out of him, and his scream was reduced to little more than a gasp.
  His vision clouded, and the last clear thing he saw was a smiling face, a
  face set with red stones. It was taking pleasure in the suffering it had
  caused. He could picture it saying "I win again" to its felled opponents,
  just as it had gloated over others before them.
  Just before he lost consciousness, Mura'shar channeled everything he had,
  directly at the statue's leering face. He didn't know what he channeled, and
  he was beyond caring. He just wanted it gone from the world. Then darkness
  descended.

  Jake
  Marked Asha'man

 Ariana channelled quickly, almost instinctively. "Stop the blood, close the
  wound, keep..." she muttered under her breath, repeating the string of
  familiar directions learned at the White Tower. When she had done all she
  could, she turned to the anxious bondmate at Myiona's side.The wound is deep,
  and she's lost a lot of blood. What is this from, a knife ? How did...
  There are no Gray Men around, are there?"
  His answer was not encouraging. I don't know. She was right next to me when
  she collapsed. She seemed to be asleep, and then..." Ariana nodded. And
  then she was bleeding from an unexplained injury. No insight there.
  "Will she... recover?" Mura'shar asked.
  "Yes, I think so. It will take some time, though. I healed the damage to
  skin and muscle, but she's lost quite a bit of blood, and is still weak."
  She stared as he suddenly turned and dashed toward the leering statue.
  "Where are you going?" she called. Fool man! His bondmate just nearly bled
  to death because of that thing, and here he goes charging out at it! I don't
  want to have to Heal any more mysterious knifings! Or worse. After all,
  Myiona had not been that close to the nasty thing when she was hurt.
  Mura'shar seemed bent on getting close enough to touch it. She watched as he
  charged it, heedless of his own safety or the others watching him, and saw
  his pace falter and slow a bit as he got closer. All at once she realized
  what he planned to do, and she reached out to saidar, gathering the weaves
  she would need to Heal whatever the result was.
  Mura'shar, though he slowed, did not stop, and when he got close to the
  hideous thing Ariana saw a sudden vortex of sparks, glowing like fireflies,
  shoot from his outstretched hand. The spark-things settled on the statue-
  and seemed to be absorbed by its gemstone eyes and mouth. They glowed hotly,
  and Ariana could see the metal around the sockets begin to drip metal tears.
  The Asha'man collapsed, and the statue seemed to grow for a moment. The
  light of the sparks died, and the evil thing was abruptly its normal size
  again.
  The Healer tore her eyes from the sick-making sight and looked at the figure
  on the ground. She dare not get closer to the statue for fear of a similar
  fate, so she changed the Power she held. A rope of Air dropped over the
  fallen Asha'man's ankles and she towed him as gently as she could across the
  ground. She dreaded what she would find....

  Ok, out of creativity. Have fun.
  ~Erin
  Ariana Kantori, Aes Sedai
  Dragonsworn of the Black Tower
  "Curiosity killed the cat- but I bet it was interesting."

 
  Myiona knew that something was wrong. She could remember the blood and
  the feeling of pain. Somehow, she had gone beyond that to another place.
  As the icy cold of Saidar washed over her body to heal her, she found
  herself floating through a strangely distorted land.
  Trees were no larger than the flowers. Mountains rose and fell in a
  matter of moments. The sky was a strange violet color and the clouds were
  fluffy pink. As she looked upon the clouds she floated up to one and
  touched it pulling off a handful of it. It smelled strangely sweet and she
  took a nibble. It was sweet like the candy she had loved as a child.
  She drifted along as if caught in the current of a slow moving river.
  She reached a point where something held her back and she was unable to go
  any further. Tears of frustration poured down her cheeks as she tried to
  pull free from the anchor.
  Suddenly, she was yanked backwards. This time she was moving very
  fast. She felt dizzy watching as she flew past the strange objects. The
  icy cold feeling poured over her leaving her gasping for breath. She opened
  her eyes again to see two faces looking down at her. "What?" she asked
  before remembering who and where she was.
  She could feel him nearby as the others lifted her to her feet. They
  told her what was happening. Her eyes could barely focus on the man who was
  now running to put his arms around her. ~Mura'shar,~ she remembered holding
  him tight and pressing her lips to his.
  Putting her thoughts in order was difficult, but she knew he had done
  something foolish. Myiona took a step back and slapped him as hard as she
  could. She forced the words out, "Ariana told me what you did. What were
  you thinking, risking your life like that? You should have waited for
  others to get here and help you. But no, you had to play the hero, didn't
  you? If you had died or burned yourself out..."
  It was hard to speak, but once she started the words kept coming. She
  knew that he was angry at what had happened to her and blamed it on the
  statue. The effort of standing and speaking seemed to drain what little
  energy she had left and she almost fell. The others held her upright as her
  mind drifted off into the fuzzy haze of exhaustion. She could feel the
  tears leaking out of her eyes as she was laid upon a bed. She closed her
  eyes and fell into a dreamless sleep.

  Vicky
  aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
  Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 
  Exploring. Adventuring. That's Talia's forte despite the wrong turns she'd
  made before on this mission. Talia jumped at the chance to explore this
  ancient city. Her beforehand taut and somber face changed, lightening to a
  broad almost mischevious smile as she walked down the ancient streets.
 

  "Well, I see the hermite finally smiles," said Alan, whom Talia just noticed
  was right beside her and grinning his roguish smile that made her like him
  so much.
 

  Talia smiled mockingly back at him, "I only smile when I have wicked things
  in mind." She retorted and then sped up her pace, leaving Alan behind for
  only a few seconds.
 

  With an almost cunning chuckle, Alan tugged on Talia's arm, causing her to
  stop and back up a few paces. She raised an eyebrow in curiosity, "What do
  you think you are doing?"
 

  "Being wicked," Alan said with a gleam in his eye... and immediately
  followed such a forthright statement with a deep kiss on Talia's lips. She,
  at first, strugled playfully, but the double sensation of feeling him close
  physically and through the bond mollified her. After a few seconds that
  seemed to end all too quickly, Alan pulled away, grinning that grin of his
  that simply emanated triumph.
 

  Talia grinned right back... accepted an implied challenge that oursiders
  would have likely missed. "You had better run, Alan, because I'll not be so
  merciful."
 

  Alan did not move at first.. but then he suddenly bolted down the street
  away from the others. Hey, they were exploring.. sort of. Talia chuckled
  and followed, not as quickly as he was running, but fast enough to keep an
  eye on him from the back. Cresting a rise in the street, Talia stopped to
  stare at a building that also had Alan frozen in his tracks. A huge
  magnificent building guarded at the front by two stone... animals.

  Slowly, Talia finally made her way to Alan's side, who was also staring at
  the stone animals guarding the stairway. "This.." he stated, "Looks as good
  as any place to start.."

  "Yeah.." Talia answered in a semi-distracted voice. At Alan's lead they
  began to climb the stairway to the main doors.. that seemed entirely made of
  glass.. "How..." Talia began as she touched the door... and it opened.
  Gasping at such a gesture, Talia almost jumped back.

  Alan chuckled in amusement.. "Self-opening doors.." Talia gave him the
  equivalent of a 'no-duh' look as they progressed to enter. What greeted
  them in the huge main room was.. horrible.. cluttered remains were
  everywhere.. metallic structures stood bare of anything.. and bones lay at
  their feet. "Morbid people, these Ancient Ones were.." She began...

  "Maybe they were cannibals.." Alan stated, just to get on Talia's nerves
  most likely. "Oh hush, Alan.. those aren't human bones.." Talia said with
  a slight hesitant lilt in her tone. Looking down, she saw the skulls that
  looked more... Trolloc like.. than anything else. "Did.. Trollocs exist
  back then?" Talia asked.. as she nudged Alan to progress further into the
  building..

  ~Talia Daimar~
  ~Dragonsworn~
  <><
  OOC: where am I? *chuckles* Anyone care to take a guess?

 Andraia was terrified. Her teeth were clenched, her body was tense, and you
  could almost hear her heart beating. And above all, her eyes were closed, and
  her body was slightly twisted away from the madman who sat next to her.

  This madman didn't share her fear. "Woo hoo!" he screamed as he once again
  put his foot flat on the floor, and spun the wheel in front of him wildly,
  more than once almost crashing into buildings and strange pillars with glass
  on the top. This is living, Stevan thought as he once more spun precariously
  around a corner, the box tipping on its side.

  In front of him a little display read "140." He found that the number
  increased when he went faster. There were many strange gadgets in this box
  yet to be discovered. Between him and Andraia was a slot which appeared to
  have a small plastic object jammed inside of it. Then there were buttons to
  the side of it...tentatively he pressed the one marked, ">."

  Music filled the box...if you could call it music. Instead of the gentle
  pleasant ballads Stevan had enjoyed so much back home in Shienar, there was a
  solid wall of noise, and the screaming of a man could only just be heard. Call
  this music? Well...actually it is kinda good...

  Trying to sing along, he carried on tearing aimlessly around the streets.
  Andraia had now covered her ears with her hands. Hopefully it's the music,
  not my singing. The scenary had changing now. Most of the buildings were now
  in ruins, and there was an overall darker atmosphere. Suddenly, out of the
  shadows came two dark creatures. They weren't quite as tall as trollocs, but
  were much wider and stockier.

  As they came nearer, Stevan could see their faces. They had two foot horns
  above their head, and their faces were similar to that of an ox, except that
  their teeth were an inch long. Snarling they ran towards the pair from the
  Black Tower in the speeding box. This is one battle that'll be easy to win,
  thought the Tsorovan'm'hael, as he steered towards the oncoming Shadowspawn.

  THUD! Stevan hit them at full force, and they were thrown over the roof of
  the box, hitting the ground behind the box dead, with another thud. But the
  impact had obviously greatly affected the box, and Stevan found himself
  twirling the wheel in vain as the box spun out of control towards one of the
  more intact buildings.

  SMASH! Glass shattered around them as they crashed through a large window.
  Stevan turned to Andraia. "You alright?" She didn't even look at him as she
  hurriedly opened her door and got out. Then he heard her gasp...
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  ---------------------------------------------
 

  Uninventive again, but I'm running out of ideas :)

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

 Myiona slowly opened her eyes. At first all she saw was a large crack
  that ran from one corner of the room toward the center. She took a deep
  breath and was relieved that it only hurt a little. She could feel the
  roughness of the blood caked dress against her skin.
  She remembered the dream that had caused the wound and wondered about
  the woman who she had been. Myiona knew that she had been in love with the
  man who had killed her, and, even in death, she loved him and forgave him.
  Myiona wondered if she would be so forgiving.
  She turned her head to one side and realized that Mura'shar was sitting
  with her. His eyes were closed and he seemed to be dozing. She knew that
  he had been injured in the attempt to destroy the statue.
  Myiona sat up carefully and put her feet on the floor. Her pack lay a
  few feet away. She wanted to change and wash to dried blood off, but
  wondered if she could make it to the bag. She embraced the source and used
  air to move the bag closer. It was tiring, more so than any time since she
  had been a novice.
  As she bent over to pick up the bag, a wave of dizziness overwhelmed
  her. She could feel herself falling and knew that she should try to stop
  it, but her arms seemed locked by her side. Just before she hit the floor,
  a arm reached out and grabbed her, pulling her back to the bed.

 Mura'shar was finally able to get some sleep, though his rest wasn't
  entirely restful. So when saidar was channeled, he was instantly awake.
  Myiona was standing, channeling her pack over to her. But the strain was
  too much for her and she started to fall.
  Mura'shar caught her just before she hit he floor. He laid her back on
  the bed and did a quick Delving. She seemed fine, just exhausted. He
  smoothed her hair from her face. "Take it easy" he told her "Are you hungry?
  The Healing must have taken a lot out of you"
  Myiona seemed to have recovered from her dizzy spell. She shook her head
  "Maybe later." she whispered Right now I just want to change. I don't like
  the idea of going to sleep covered in blood. Especially my own"
  Mura'shar nodded and picked up the fallen bag and laid it on the bed next
  to her. "Alright. But take it easy. I'll be in the next room, just call
  out if you need me. When you're stronger, maybe we can find some water so
  you can clean up a little more" He took a waterskin and a hankerchief from
  his own pack "This might help a little in the meantime"
  Myiona took the piece of cloth and smiled and he stepped into the remains
  of the next room and closed the door. He knew she was exhausted, but she was
  independant too. She wouldn't appreciate having to be dressed by someone,
  even him.
  The room might once have been a library or school room. The remains of
  desks and chairs lay strewn everywhere. Smashed bookcases lined the walls,
  some with disintegrated books still on them..
  While waiting for Myiona, he wandered over to one of the more intact
  desks. He peered at what was left of a book that lay open on it. The
  conditions in the city must have been good for preservation, because he could
  faintly make out writing on it. On one side was a picture, of sorts. It was
  a faint greenish shape not recognizable as anything found in nature. It
  looked almost like a head, if a tree could be said to have a head.
  There was some next to the book, like someone was taking notes from the
  book. The paper was quite old, though not quite as old as the book. One
  part of line was barely legible: ...even myth is long forgotten...
  Next to the desk was a long set of shelves. One row of books, there was
  over a dozen -perhaps as many as a score- of fat volumes written in an
  unknown language. Beneath each one was a small plaque with what he could
  only assume was the title of the books.
  Glancing at the plaque beneath the first one, he strained to translate
  the title. ""Eye... of.. a, the?...Land... no, World" A book on the
  legendary relic of the Age of Legends? Did the people in this land know
  about that site, perhaps sought it out like the Borderlanders did?
  Mura'shar looked at the second plaque. It was easier, since many of his
  lessons had this phrase "The Great Hunt" Did the people here have their own
  version of The Great Hunt of the Horn? It couldn't be the original ones, as
  they would take up several books much larger than this, large though the
  books was.
  The third one sent chills down his spine "The Dragon Reborn" An unknown
  copy of the Prophecies of the Dragon? Or another set of prophecies stuck in
  this accursed city since the Breaking. There was no way to determine exactly
  how old these books were. They were very old, that's all he knew. Maybe he
  should take a couple of these back for Xyranthes...
  The other titles weren't as eye-catching as the others. At least, they
  didn't have as obvious a meaning as the others did. He tried to take one
  down, a book somewhere in the middle of the shelf that he thought said "Heart
  of the Winter" but it crumbled to dust as soon as he touched it.
  Wiping his hands on his jacket, hoping no one would notice his unwitting
  vandalism, he turned around and knocked on the door to see how Myiona was
  doing.

  Jake
  Marked Asha'man

 Myiona had finished changing when the knock sounded on the door. She was
  exhausted from what she had done and was glad that he opened the door and
  peeked in. She was sitting on the bed holding the brush in her hands. She
  knew her hair must be a mess, but did not have the energy to do anything
  about it.
  She looked up at him and said, "I am sure you want to go exploring some
  more. Maybe you should go without me. I don't think I will be able to do
  anything else today other than sleep. The worst thing that could happen to
  me here is that I would get a tangle in my hair that I could not get out."

  Vicky
  aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
  Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 Alcinia helped get Myiona into the building and then stood in a narrow
  alley between two buildings trying to decide where to go next. Her
  pockets were full of trinkets she had found, but she had not yet
  located any ter'angreal or anything important. She decided that the
  best course would be to see things from a different view point.
  She climbed up the side of one of the buildings, using the broken
  pieces as steps and then located one of the tallest buildings in the
  town. Heading straight for it, Alcinia went over rooftops and down to
  the ground when necessary. It took quite awhile and she was glad to
  finally reach her goal.
  Large glass doors stood at the entry and were locked. Alcinia
  considered breaking the glass, but decided to use the power to gain
  entry. A few minutes later she walked into a large, almost empty room.
  In the center was a round room, but the walls only went up to about
  waist height. There appeared to be nothing interesting inside the
  small room, so she walked toward the back of the larger room. Several
  doors were scattered around the outside.
  Alcinia looked around and saw a sign on the wall with strange words and
  the picture of stairs. She walked toward the door nearest the sign and
  opened it. Stairs went up inside of a small tower. She walked up
  until she came to a door and opened it. A long hallway ran the length
  of the building and doors were on either side. Some had glass windows
  in them and she was able to look inside. With a sigh, she started at
  the first room and looked through it. She found a few more little
  things that joined the collection she had in her pockets.
  A little while later, she was ready to go up to the next floor with
  very little to show for her effort. She went through two more floors
  of rooms without finding anything significant. One the fifth floor,
  the door opened to reveal a large room filled to overflowing with
  strange objects. Books were enclosed in glass cases. Some other
  objects were also enclosed in cases. The things that caught Alcinia's
  attention was a large glass case displaying jewelry. Her eyes
  glittered as she looked upon her find. "I will be rich," she muttered.
  "I can go anywhere or do anything that I want. But how can I get all
  of these past the others and to a safe place?"
  She emptied her pockets of the trinkets and began filling them with the
  jewels. After her pockets were filled, she stuffed her pack with the
  treasure. She continued looking through the room and found a small
  case in a corner. The objects inside it were unusual and she realized
  that she had finally found ter'angreal. Several strange looking
  statues, a few oddly shaped bracelets, and other things sat inside.
  She sat down on the floor and considered what she should do. The Tower
  needed the ter'angreal and she wanted the jewels.

  Alcinia

 SMASH! Glass shattered around them as they crashed through a large
  window. Stevan turned to Andraia. "You alright?" She didn't even look at him
  as she hurriedly opened her door and got out. Then he heard her gasp...
  They were in a cavernous room, that made the throne room of a king seem a
  pauper's hut. The floor was made of some sort of shiny wood, seemingly
  untouched by time, with various colorful drawings inscribed on it in paint.
  From the floor to the walls were step-like protrusions, in regular
  arrangements and color groupings. A large, clear, flat item hung from the
  ceiling at either end of the large circular floor.
  "Where in the name of the Light are we?" Andraia slowly turned and
  looked at the immense room, her pale eyes large in her fragile face. "Some
  sort of house of worship?"
  Stevan looked around, frowning, then nodded in agreement. "It must be.
  The clear panels," he pointed toward the hanging items, as though Andraia was
  too foolish to notice them herself, "Must be where they put the sacrifices.
  The floor has some sort of stylized religious design, and the 'steps' are
  where the worshippers sit. They must truly love their religion, since
  there's so many seats!" Andraia nodded her agreement, and headed toward the
  nearest opening that led up into the seats. Stevan followed her after a
  moment, and up they went.

  Short, but I'm running out of ideas. Sorry!
  Andraia Korinth

 
  Cool water showered down from previously unseen spigots on the ceiling, as a
  strange, ululating wail filled their ears. Darren, Traighan, and Tareena all
  ran out. Shea, however, stood there for a moment with her hands over her
  ears, letting the water run down her face. After what she'd seen in that
  drawer, she could use a cold shower.
  Tareena's head reappeared in the doorway. "It's raining in the other
  chamber, too," she announced.
  "Oh." Taking a deep breath, Shea ran a hand through her by-now
  thoroughly wet short blond hair. "Well, um, why don't we leave?" Why were
  they suddenly paying so much attention to her? She was just a novitiate, not
  yet eighteen years old. Though that...thing...had definitely done something
  in the way of, er, expanding her horizons.
  Perhaps noticing his bondmate's absence, Darren also reentered the
  office, followed shortly by Traighan. "You want to leave?" he asked, again
  giving Shea that strangely disconcerting look. She shifted her weight
  uncomfortably.
  "Please!" she exclaimed fervently. Suddenly the shower stopped, along
  with the sound. He continued with the gaze until, at her nerve's end, she
  whirled around, sloshing a puddle. "You said you wanted things from here to
  study, so let's collect them, shall we?" said Shea in her most businesslike
  tone, and set to gathering up whole drawerfuls of the strange items.
  Thankfully, there was nothing to be ashamed of in these drawers. Possibly
  stifling a few laughs, the rest of the party helped.
  It wasn't until they were back in the main hallway that Shea realized
  that somebody had brought the drawer she'd burned up. In a way, she was
  proud of that drawer: her usual channelling had none of the energy she'd used
  to consume the thing in flames. But...ugh. Wincing, Shea kept her eyes
  fixed straight ahead, and focused on the load she was carrying. Tareena
  sidled up beside her, eyes dancing. "You can tell me, woman to woman.
  What's in there?" she whispered conspiratorily.
  Shea ducked her head, and gave the Dragonsworn a quick look.
  "I...I...maybe later," she said lamely. "I don't want to think about it right
  now. Much less talk." The Seanchan woman raised an eyebrow, grinned at her,
  and resumed a quicker pace to be closer to Darren. The novitiate sighed, and
  tried to focus on making her way through the corridor without tripping.
  Left, right, left.
  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*
  Lame, I know. Sorry. :/

  ~Rae
  Shea, perpetual novitiate

 

  *Kara + Dispine*
  The names carved into the wooden beam were barely visible. The only reason
  Janara noticed them was because she was too tired to continue searching the
  small
  quarters she and La'rece found in the newly discovered city. The experience of
  being captured must of been harder on her than she first thought. Even Janara's
  butt hurt as she sat on the stone floor of the building they were in. She was
  thinking about asking about going home. She would only slow the rest of the
  people down.
  "Janara, look at this, isn't this cute?" La'rece held up a small statue of
  a little girl and two kittens.
  "The eyes are too big," Janara said. La'rece frowned. She touched the statue
  with the power and then put it back. "Well," she said, "I wouldn't call it
  'art', but it's the most interesting thing, short of the buildings themselves
  and
  that huge light forsaken statue in the main courtyard, that WE'VE found. I've
  heard some other members have gotten some unique items." La'rece continued to
  search the room.
  Janara traced the names in the beam with her finger. Did they ever get
  together or was this some girl's fancy? It had to be a girl who did that, the
  letters were small and in a relatively hidden spot. If a man decided to carve
  something like that, he would make huge letters and put it in a public area like
  across the support of a bridge or something. Odd how people have such a need to
  leave there mark somehow. People don't change. The Wheel may turn but most
  things stay the same nevertheless.
  There was a loud rumble and the sound of stone crashing outside. It
  sounded
  like it came from the area where the statue was.
  "Sounds like somebody got rid of that thing," La'rece said
  "One attempt at immortality destroyed," Janara said.
  "What?"
  "Never mind."

  La'rece tossed another statue she found on the floor. It smashed into several
  large pieces. "That wasn't an angreal either," she said. She started to pace.
  "If you want to go and see what happened I don't mind," Janara said.
  "Are you sure you'll..."
  "I'll be fine, go..." Janara pointed toward the door. La'rece smiled and
  jogged out of the building.

  Janara sat for about a half hour. She leaned back hard on the beam. It was
  sturdy. She turned around and faced the beam. Then she took out her dagger and
  began chipping.
  __________________________________________________________________

  Janara Dragonsworn
  Bondmate to La'rece and Ivan

 Tareena chuckled to herself as she and the others used the power to dry their
  hair and clothes. Having water suddenly come from the ceiling could not
  really surpass the bright red funny look that Shea wore as she tried to
  unsuccessfully divert attention away from her charred drawer. Deciding to
  take pitty on her, Tareena suggested that they continue their explorations.
  Even though she was dying to know what the noviate had seen. Most people
  didn't realize the actual lack of experience Tareena had in the area of
  relations between a man and a woman. Because of her age, they assumed she
  already knew. Oh well, some day I will learn. Feeling her cheeks begin to
  blush, she threw a quick look over at Darren, knowing that he would be her
  choice.
  Once again they entered the dark passageway, angling downward, moving
  farther and farther into the bowels of this arched building. Each time they
  found a niche in the wall which opened into yet another room, another chapter
  in the lives of these people which she could not even fathom. Strange
  objects, weird artifacts, who was to say what was important and what was not?
  All of it was intriguing, sometimes delighful in it's surprises, sometimes
  dreadful in it's outcomes. She couldn't help but chuckle again remebering
  the look on Traighan's face when he had opened an unknown doorway and had
  found what must be the so called "outhouse" of these people. Waste flowed
  into different vats and then came out the other side, ready to use. He could
  be so comical with his facial expressions. Privately she thought he needed
  to lighten up a little, but who was she to critisize.
  After several more turns, they once again opened a door which led into
  a vast room. Ornately decorated, it contained a giant fireplace spanning the
  entire length of one wall. Above this hung a picture of a man standing by a
  mantle, holding a glass of spirits. Tareena felt herself drawn to the
  picture, walking slowly towards it. As she got closer, weird sensations
  began to course through her, the rhythum of her heart began to change, to
  pulse in time to the strange sensations pouring from the picture. She felt
  filth, vile and stale, course through her veins, a sludge so thick it waited
  her down. She sank to her knees with the weight of it, pulling, pulling,
  down so heavy. Suddenly she felt herself being jerked upright and away from
  the picture. Dazed she looked around to see the chalkwhite face of Shea and
  the frightened look of her bondmate.
  "What are you doing? What happened to you?" Darren asked, his voice
  hissing between his teeth. "I don't know, I felt something...pulling me,
  weighting me down, I couldn't resist it."
  The foursome backed away from the picture, as far away as they could
  get. Tareena noticed a name plaque in some kind of shiny metal underneath
  the picture. "I wonder if that is his name?" she mused aloud. " I don't
  know and I don't want to know" Darren replied. I don't like the feel of
  this."
  "This must be his building, wouldn't you think?" she asked, looking
  around at the others. Nods of agreement accompanied her question. "You
  know, we have been in this place for a long time, the others must be
  wondering where we are. I wonder what they have discovered. Maybe we should
  go back and make contact. Plus, for some reason, I think this picture is
  important, this man somehow is important. Maybe, I don't know. Shea,
  Traighan, you two go back up to the surface and find some of the others, they
  need to see this. Maybe between all of us we can figure out why I reacted to
  it in the manner I did.
  Nodding their agreement, they walked out of the room, following their
  orders. Tareena turned to look into the eyes of her concerned bondmate.
  "Tareena are you sure? Maybe you are making a big deal out of nothing. A
  lot of strange things are around here, things we don't understand. I would
  feel awful silly asking the others to come down here for no reason."
  "Yes, I do think it is important, I don't know why, just a feeling."
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  ---------------------------------------------
  Okay guys, come and join us in the room if you will. My idea is to link the
  picture of the man with the statue in the courtyard. The evil from the
  statue jhas to come from the evil of the man, possibly the leader of the city
  or an important political man who was a darkfriend or something akin to that.
  Once we do that, then my idea is to continue to exlore his builiding and end
  up in some kind of laboratory where he was creating unusual and dangerous
  objuects and entities. Possibly we could find the symbols on things that
  match the Ter'angreal on the Sea Folk island. Once we make that connection,
  we could then move to strike out at the evil as a team. I know it is sketchy
  but it sort of made sense to me..scary thought I know :)Plus, who knows what
  we would find in a mad scientists lab...some pretty cool things to fight. I
  know with our imaginations, we can have a good time. What do you think?

 Mura'shar spent several hours examining the insides of several houses.
  The things he found would have been a virtual treasure trove for scholars of
  the Age of Legends, but brought him no closer to what he was seeking.
  He stayed close to the building where Myiona was sleeping. He didn't
  want to leave her alone and helpless in this place, despite the lack of any
  signs of life here. This place still gave him the creeps and he wanted to
  reach her side in a hurry if he had to. This limited the places he could go,
  but still left him with a lot of buildings he could search.
  He was examining some kind of food product now. It was wrapped in an
  unknown substance. The wrapping was thin as paper, resilient and
  transparent, allowing him to see the object inside. It was a small
  brown-gold cake. A white, creamy substance like frosting filled the inside.
  Despite its age, it still seemed edible. Probably due to a ter'angreal of
  some kind. Maybe the wrapper?
  He took a small bite and spit it out again. It was horrible! So spongy
  and sickeningly sweet. It was like eating a piece of bread that had soaked
  in sugar water for a month. He wondered if everyone in the Age of Legends
  managed to keep all their teeth eating junk like this.
  Tossing the cake away, he glanced out a window just in time to see Shea
  rounding a corner, followed by Traighan. He waved to them , then ran outside
  to greet them.
  "Have you found anything interesting yet? There's not much in these
  houses that would interest anyone but a Brown sister"
  At the word "interesting" Shea blushed furiously but kept a serious
  expression on her face. Traighan the strange picture they found and the odd
  reacting they had to it. Mura'shar felt his heart sinking. Here we go again.
  "have you seen anyone else around here recently?" asked She "Tareena
  sent us to find some of the others. She thinks the picture is important and
  wants to find out what others have discovered"
  I saw Ariana and Alcinia a few hours ago" Mura'shar told them "They
  helped Myiona and me when there was some, ah, 'unpleasantness' with the
  statue in the middle of the city. But I haven't seen them since. "Myiona's
  sleeping right now. But I'll go wake her up and join you"
  He decided to leave out the detail of the "unpleasantness" for now. The
  others looked around curiously. There was no statue in the center of town
  now.
  They gave him directions on how to reach Tareena and Darren, then left to
  find others of the Black Tower. Mura'shar headed back to the building where
  he left Myiona. She should be waking up soon, and will likely be hungry.
  Fortunately, They still had some rations left. She'd probably kill him if he
  tried feeding her one of those little cakes.
  ----------------------------------------------
  Hey, who says a Twinkie couldn't survive the Breaking?

  Jake
  marked Asha'man

 Ariana cruised around over the city for a while, trying to see if there was
  anywhere else interesting, and if she could see anyone from the Black Tower.
  Unfortunately, she waited too long. The flying craft began to falter, the
  humming vibration skipped out and became irregular. Oops. Out of fuel. It
  seemed a reasonable assumption. Below was a wide street and a large
  building. She squinted, and could see people down there. Good. I can see
  what the newest news is. Then, as the flying machine began tilting
  erratically, Good, they can Heal me when I smash into the pavement. For it
  seemed the machine was trying to do just that, and was not responding to the
  panicked Dragonsworn's attempts to guide it safely down. "Stop, you stupid
  thing! Do you want to crash?" she yelled at it, terrified as it plummeted,
  then straightened out, then fell again. "I'm never going on anything without
  a brain again," she murmured. "At least a runaway horse won't try to go
  through a wall!" She wrenched the steering stick up, trying futilely to pull
  it out of its downward motion.
  Twenty feet from the ground, it responded, leveling out, then cruised
  parallel to the street for a while. Then, as it approached the building, it
  dipped, dipped again, then finally touched down on the street and slid a few
  feet to stop almost directly in front of the entrance to the building.
  Ariana climbed out, looked around at the Black Tower members, and announced
  calmly, "Curbside delivery service."
  He he he. Always put the best complexion possible on crash landings, i
  always say... you might actually convince someone you meant to do that. :)
  Ariana Kantori Aes Sedai
  Dragonsworn of the Black Tower
  "Curiosity killed the cat- but I bet it was interesting."

 
  Stevan sat down on one of the seats and gazed upon the area of worship
  before him. They were right at the top, and he must have been at least fifty
  feet above ground. From a distance he could now clearly see the markings on
  the shiny wooden floor - it was adorned with criss-crossing lines, circles
  and semi-circles of different colours. At each end a rectangular white board
  stood out from the wall with a hoop attached. Must have been for the
  sacrifices, Stevan thought, as he tried to picture stringing animals through
  the hoo... He stopped that line of thought with a shudder.
  Andraia stood in the mouth of a doorway behind him. "Come on..." she
  said, frustrated. "There's so much more to explore down here." Sighing,
  Stevan stood back up and followed his bondmate down the passageway...
  They went down a long flight of stairs, then through this strange set of
  gates with little 'boxes' (for people?) on either side. Finally, two smashed
  glass doors led them back into the cold outside...if you could call it
  outside in this strange cavern. He put an arm around the shivering Andraia as
  he gazed around wondering where to go next.
  Looking across at the building opposite them, he noticed two figures
  coming out at the entrance. Seizing saidin, his enhanced vision could make
  out a man and a woman...Shea and Traighan! What are they doing there?
  He quickly ran over, pulling Andraia by her hand behind him. Seeing
  Stevan and Andraia they both stopped, and turned towards the bondmates.
  Before he could utter a word to them, Traighan spoke excitedly. "Stevan! Just
  the person we need! We seem to have discovered an interesting room in this
  building, and we think it might lead to the ter'angreal."
  Shea interrupted and continued their story. "You need to go into the
  building and converse with Tareena to work out what to do next. We probably
  need everyone in the city to be there eventually, because anything might
  happen."
  After receiving directions Stevan followed Andraia into another of the
  Age of Legends' strange buildings...the main building of the town? The final
  confrontation? The end of their journey?
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------

  Oh to have ideas...

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

 Myiona opened her eyes as she heard someone saying her name. "What?" she
  asked sharply. She had been in the middle of a particularly interesting
  dream. She blushed remembering it especially since the person waking her
  had been a prominent part.
  "Myiona," he said insistently, "the others are all gathering at a building
  nearby. Do you think you can walk now?"
  "I suppose," she said sitting up. "Did you bring me anything to eat? I am
  famished."
  After eating some of the rations they had brought, Myiona and Mura'shar
  walked to the building where the others were gathered. She immediately
  found a place to sit down since the walk had been tiring and listened to
  what the others were talking about.

  Vicky
  aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
  Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 Odessa wandered slowly throughout the city, her emerald gaze taking
in
all around her.  So many strange things leapt out at her.  There were
things
that looked like carriages, but there were no hitches for horses. And
she saw
a tower with a round chunk of glass with great golden numbers with
large
posts pointing at them from the center of the circle.  In one building
she
found what looked like a giant bird made of steel.  But there were
still
thins that were familiar.  Knives and keys and parchment and other such
day
to day articles.
    The Dominai spotted a giant red building with great oaken doors.
For
some reason it intrigued her.  Slowly she pushed open the heavy wooden
door.
Inside a long hallway stretched before her, the floor was covered with
bright
blue slabs of highly polished marble.  A colored glass window poured
down a
beautiful array of lights that took her breath away.  She looked back
over
her shoulder, but Rengar had wandered off.  She took a deep breath and
started down the hallway, the heels of her leather boots creating a
sharp
report.
    The hallway opened up into a cavernous room.  The ceiling reached
far
above her head, and a great mural was painted on it.  Still more of the

colored glass windows shone brightly about the room.  But, what caught
her
eyes were the shelves.  Rows and rows of books lined the walls, the
shelves
almost touching the ceiling.  Odessa gasped and almost ran to the
closest
wall.  She looked down the out turned spines, and pulled a thick book
off the
shelf, opening it, and gaped.  The words were none that she knew.
Putting
the book back she pulled another off the wall, and it was in the same
text.
Puzzled now, she found she couldn't stop checking the incredible texts.
 
Finally she found one that seemed almost as readable as any other she
had
read.  She found a lush velvet lined chair, and curled up with the
ancient
text.  Some words were still unreadable, but she could make out most of
it.
It was absolutely fascinating.
    She glanced up away from the book, and was curious why Xyranthes
hadn't
found this place yet.  He could give some very interesting foresight
into
these mysterious texts.  She stood carrying the book, and strode to the
back
of the room.  She was slowly making her way along the mounds of books,
when
the floor beneath her dropped out, and she fell, cutting off the scream
that
bubbled in her throat.  She slammed into a hard floor, knocking the
breath
from her lungs.  She lay there, on her back, gasping for air.
    In time, she caught her breath and sat up.  Everything seemed to be

functioning correctly, and she began to look around her surroundings,
beginning with up.  There seemed to have been a spring loaded trapdoor,
that
was already closing.  She glance around her, noting the dust and
cobwebs.
This cavern hadn't been seen by humans in a long while.  As the door
high
above her closed, darkness surrounded her, closing of what little view
she
had had before.  She stood, futilely trying to dust of her clothes and
dug
around for her book.  Channeling, she created a small ball of light
that
balanced above her upturned palm.  "HELLO?!" she yelled.  No sound came
back,
except that of her own voice.  "It figures.  I finally need real help
and
there is only little old me."  Looking both left and right, she tried
hard to
figure out what direction to take.  Sighing expressively, she turned
left,
and began to make her way down the hall.
    The dust coated everything, on the floor it was at least an inch
think.
She watched around her as best she could.  She lost track of time, and
direction as she kept going left when the pathway forked.  It was
almost with
shock that she crossed over the footprints of someone else.  They had
been
made not long ago, and she knew they were not hers, because they were
almost
twice the size of her own feet.  Moving slowly and cautiously, she kept

going.  At the next fork, she saw her light glint off of something.
She
reached down, and picked it up.  It's golden surface winked back at her
in
the shallow light.  "A dragon," she muttered to herself.  "There must
be an
Asha'man down her somewhere.  But where did he come from."  She spoke
aloud,
thinking to herself was getting old.
    "HELLO?!  IS THERE ANYONE DOWN HERE?"  Still only silence greeted
her.
She groaned in frustration.  "This one I'll need to write down as
Odessa's
lovely misadventure."  She growled, upset with herself.  She stood
there,
with her back against the left wall, whispering to herself, when she
heard
footsteps coming towards her from the glaring darkness of the pathway
that
went right.  Her heart began to race, snd she waited, hoping against
hope
that it was the long lost Asha'man, and not something she'd rather not
meet.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Well, it sucked terribly, but that happens when you have writers block.
 If
anyone wants to jump on this, go for it.  I just couldn't think of
anything
better right now.  I had two others written, but as I said, my mother
went
delete happy, and I lost both of them, the day after they had been
finished.
Anyhow ... hopefully I can think of something better soon.

Odessa~
Jen~
Bonded to Rengar~
 
 The battle between the Shadowspawn, Mura'shar, and Rengar had begun to heat
  up, and it was all the two Asha'men could do just to keep pace with the
  ferocious beast. Fortunately Mura'shar had decided to try and give Rengar a
  much needed hand as he attempted to fight this beast blindfolded. Rengar
  doubted that he could pin this flaming tail on this creature if he was able to
  see what he was doing, and now he was trying harder to protect himself than do
  what was required by the game.
  Eventually Rengar was able to figure out that Mura'shar had also been trying
  to turn the creature so that Rengar could face it's rear end, and once he knew
  this he was able to plant the tail on with little difficulty. Rengar then
  heard the creature howl, and he breathed a sigh of relief as the blindfold
  disappeared and he was able to see around himself again. For a few moments
  the brightness caused by the new surroundings he found himself in blinded him
  again, but his eyes were slowly able to adjust. Which gave Rengar his first
  glimpse of where they were now.
  A large white circle had been drawn in the center of what appeared to be a
  forest. But this is impossible! Rengar though to himself, squinting his eyes
  in an attempt to see through this illusion. But he couldn't. How can there
  be a forest in the middle of a volcano?
  It was then when the voice spoke. "YOU ALL MUST PLAY THIS GAME, BUT ONLY
  ONE OF YOU WILL GET TO WIN THE PRIZE." The voice laughed madly as the
  Asha'man and Dragonsworn looked puzzled. What could it mean?
  "This place is just getting stranger and stranger," Rengar muttered under his
  breath, as he and the others who had traveled to this place stepped into the
  circled area. A parcel was then produced out of the air, or so it seemed, and
  was passed around the circle, according to the rules. This was a nonevent for
  Rengar, who on all of his attempts unwrapped in parcel only to find another
  layer of wrapping underneath. Unfortunately, Stevan was the one who claimed
  the "prize" when everything was said and done.
  After the battle that ensued Rengar was just about ready to leave this Light
  forsaken place here and now, and he was sure that many others probably agreed
  with him. But he had to remind himself that they were here on behalf of the
  Sea Folk people, and that a good number of their channelers would be in great
  peril unless they were able to find a cure for their strange disease. So
  Rengar pressed his thoughts about leaving to the back of his mind, and
  continued walking onto the next challenge.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------
  The lava began to bubble with a ferocity that even Rengar could tell was
  unnatural as the leader of these mad channelers prepared to sacrifice Janara.
  Then again, nothing in this volcano had been as it normally should; he should
  have come to expect anything by now.
  "Poor woman. I wouldn't want to spend a few seconds around those brutes, let
  alone a couple of days," Rengar muttered to himself, staring up at the mad
  channelers in helplessness, knowing that there was nothing they could truly do
  to help Janara without endangering her further. These madmen seemed to have
  short temperaments, and Rengar certainly did not want to test the limits of
  that temper at the moment. But just as the ceremony for the sacrifice seemed
  to be coming to a close, a great burst of gas and heat shot up from the mouth
  of the volcano, causing the madmen to shout something about a Fire-God before
  they shoved Janara down into the pit of lava.
  "Link!" Stevan cried, and Rengar did not need a second telling, as he grabbed
  the nearest channelers hand and began to focus saidin through the Link and to
  the leader of it. With the combined strength the Link brought they were able
  to lift Janara to relative safety and create a barrier around the members of
  the Black Tower, thereby shielding them from the worst effects of the heat
  that now consumed the area. After the heat had subsided the Link was broken,
  and as Rengar opened his eyes he saw a large opening in the side of the
  volcano that had not existed before. Blood and bloody ashes, don't tell me
  we're going into the volcano, Rengar thought to himself, but even as he
  thought that he already knew where they would be going next.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------
  They were entering a city now, one that resembled the one that they had found
  in the Jangai Pass almost a year before. Hollow buildings made out of a
  strange kind of stone echoed with silence as the wind could be heard sweeping
  through the empty passages of the ancient buildings, chilling Rengar as it
  picked up in velocity.
  "Let's have a look around, all right?" Alan asked Rengar, being accompanied
  by Ariana. Well, it's not like I had any ideas about what to do in this
  city...why not? Rengar asked himself, nodding to Alan and Ariana in
  acknowledgment.
  But before they had gotten very far they came to what appeared to be the
  center of the town, with a large number of people gathered around a large
  black statue.
  "Now what in the name of the Creator is this thing doing here?" Rengar asked
  aloud, though he had meant to keep the question to itself. But it was then
  that things around him suddenly became very dark, and he found himself
  discovering just how the statue had come into existence. And a bit more...
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------
  "The Leader will not be happy about this, Sarbonius," Michal complained, as
  the two men sat in the corner of the large Senate Chamber, which was preparing
  to decide whether to send this land's best channelers to help Lews Therin
  Telamon seal away the Dark One. At least, that was the plan; Sarbonius
  himself doubted that the plan would work, regardless of whether Tribonia's
  channelers were sent to help or not. Still, a decision had to be made, and
  Sarbonius knew that within a few minutes the debates would begin, factions
  would be formed, and very little would get done. It was the way of things in
  the Senate, for as long as anyone could remember.
  "How can you drink that stuff?" Sarbonius asked Michal, deciding not to
  follow up his friend's question with an answer just yet. Everyone was
  beginning to become just a little suspicious of how the Leader seemed to be
  getting his way all the time now in the Senate, even though some of the
  measures that he had pushed clearly violated the Code that had been laid out
  during the Founding. But only Sarbonius had openly questioned the authority
  of the Leader, as everyone called him now. Of course, he had the right to say
  whatever he wanted about anything he wished, but it seemed as though people
  had been keeping their eyes on him more since he had said those things than
  they had before.
  "Oh, you mean this?" Michal asked, lifting up his glass with a brownish-black
  substance in it. Strange bubbles were constantly shooting up to the top of
  the glass, and Sarbonius didn't know whether to be curious or wary of the
  popular new drink. "It has the same effect as any glass of burbania, but it
  tastes better."
  "I see," Sarbonius replied, frowning. He had never remembered reading about
  burbania, or any other drink now popular, in any of his histories. They all
  seemed to have come into existence the same time a woman named Mierin..."Well,
  here comes out illustrious Leader now."
  Just as Sarbonius finished his sentence, a great hush came over the Senate
  Chamber, and a tall, mildly handsome man stepped through the curtains behind
  the highest seat in the Senate. Standing on the balcony with two other men
  flanking him, the Leader looked down on the rest of the Senators in the
  chamber with his reddish eyes, a trait that had given him a lifetime of
  torture and grief in his earlier years. But now, those eyes seemed to mark
  him as someone to be admired rather than cursed; such was the effect that he
  had on the people now.
  "There will be no debates today," the Leader spoke in his characteristically
  deep voice. Murmurs began to arise among the Senators in the Chamber, but
  Sarbonius had fallen silent. What in the Creator's name is he up to this
  time? he wondered, and a moment later he received his answer. "Today I am
  unveiling a work of art done to honor me, and all of the service I have given
  to the nation of Tribonia."
  A large object with a cloth covering it was then wheeled into the center of
  the Chamber, and again talk began among the other Senators before the Leader
  silenced them again.
  "Unveil the statue," the Leader spoke, and the cloth was pulled off the
  object, revealing a statue carved out of the obsidian, black as night, with
  red ter-angreal in place of eyes. "Behold, the beginning of my legacy. A
  legacy that begins today, with the nation of Tribonia allying itself with the
  Dark One.
  And to Sarbonius bewilderment, along with the others in the Chamber, the
  hooded figure that had been standing beside the Leader threw off his hood.
  And what was revealed to the Senators of Tribonia was a man clad all in the
  black, with eyes that shown with a blood red even greater than that of the
  Leader who had betrayed them all.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  -------------------------------------------
  Sorry about this hunk of cheese here, but I figured I had to write something
  before they took me off the list...just thought I would interject some of my
  ideas into the "mystery" of this ter'angreal we seem to have stumbled upon,
  and I hope that whatever I've written hasn't broken up the continuity of the
  RP. Also, I just bought Lord of Emperors, by Guy G. Kay...which explains the
  names for some of the characters in the flashback. Anyway...have a good day,
  everyone.
  Kyle

 Alcinia pulled two very large bags down the stairs and out into the
  street. They were both bulging with objects that she thought might be
  important. She had hidden the jewels in her own bag. She still felt
  unsure about a future at the Black Tower. She was too independent for
  the "group" sort of lifestyle. Still, she longed for someone she could
  count as a friend, and a little attention from one of the guys would
  not be totally unwanted. She shook her head. She knew that was never
  going to happen at the Tower. All of the guys had proved they were not
  interested in the tiny Mayene.
  As Alcinia rounded a corner, she came upon others gathering to go into
  a large building. They were insistent that she leave her own finds and
  come with them. "Okay," she said finally moving her bags against the
  wall of the building. "I can always come back and get these later."
  She followed the others down into the building until they came to a
  large room. Alcinia watched the others from a place by one of the
  walls.

 Darren waited as the tower members arrived. Each noticed the menace of the
  painting and backed off. Until Rengar. He came in in a daze.
  "I know this place! This is the antechamber to the senate! The door is over
  here!"
  He walked right past the picture, oblivious, and opened a door. It opened
  into a vast chamber, lit by a huge skylight, and lined with seats and with
  a central platform. The others followed Rengar into the senate chamber,
  asking how he knew. "The statue told me before you destroyed it." he
  finally responded.
  He walked up to a Travelling gateway to the side of the raised platform.
  "This portal leads directly to the office of the 'great leader'. The one
  who turned the city over to the Dark One even before the War of the Shadow
  had really begun."
  Darren murmurred, "Nice guy. Odd office."
  Tareena nodded in agreement. "Rather vain, wasn't he?"
  Every surface was reflective. This made the room rather hard to look at.
  The ceiling was uneven, casting strange reflections everywhere. Two
  nonreflective objects caught Darren's eye: a chair, and paper. They were
  sitting on what appeared to be a desk made of even more mirrors.
  Darren drew both swords, and put one in. Nothing happened. He put one foot in.
  Tareena grabbed his shoulder. "Don't go alone. This feels bad. Link."
  Darren put his hand on her hand, and seized saidin. She accepted his power,
  and gathered two more.
  "Enough. If it's power we face, I want to be able to lead the link."
  After a moment, Tareena nodded, but kept the link herself.
  They all carefully walked into the office. Nothing happened.
  Darren advanced, and nothing persisted in happening.
  Another link passed in behind them, dimming the light in the room further
  as each member passed through the portal blocking most of the light for a
  moment. Darren looked up and saw their reflections. Everyone was in after a
  few moments.
  The desk was in front of him. An imposing chair, and a paper. Paper with
  writhing ink. To look upon it was fear like a Myrddraal. He staggered back,
  and averted his eyes. Fortified by Tareena's hand on his shoulder again, he
  looked directly at the paper. The fear returned, but he refused to succumb
  to it again. His left-hand sword lashed out, whistling over the sheet,
  lifting it off the desk. It slid over the air like a gull at the beach in a
  land breeze, peeling off to sea, falling back into the chair.
  A ward broke. The walls shimmered, and disappeared
  The dim light that had entered the room suddenly burst into a shaded
  silvery daylight. In the sudden brightness Darren could see no more than
  blurry shapes ahead of him, charging. Hoofbeats. Darren felt Tareena wield
  the link, sending out a wall of air. The creatures charging them stopped
  abruptly.
  Then they channelled! Spirit to subdue, fire - to sever?... Darren snatched
  the link and siezed control instantly. Tareena objected vehemently as he
  yanked the wall of air back, leaving their severing weave sinking into
  nothing.
  Darren passed control back to her, his eyes having readjusted. The creature
  which was resuming its charge was tall, very tall. The body of a man
  sprouted from the shoulders of a horse! He wore plate armor finer and of a
  stranger material than any Darren had ever seen. His weapon was a halberd
  {{a spear with an axe blade on one side towards the top}}, and the axe was
  already descending! Darren ducked behind the desk, which took the halberd's
  blade, and swung with all of his might against the creature's leg as it
  stopped next to him. A quick parry with the hilt of the halberd kept the
  monster upright. Darren spun slashed his right hand sword against the flank
  of the monster behind him. His blow bounced off the heavy armor, throwing
  him off balance for just a moment. the moment he had been about to use to
  dodge. The butt of the first monster's halberd struck him in the back, and
  Darren fell on his face. The monster above him was about to trample him to
  death when it was suddenly flung aside by a fierce strike with air. Darren
  rolled to his feet and jumped onto the toppled centaur. A sword driven down
  into its horse-chest with all of his might pierced the armor, and killed it.
  A third swiped at him, but he caught it in his left-hand blade. As he
  pulled his right-hand blade free of the body, he looked around. Two of the
  centaurs were down, of about a dozen total.
  *********
  OOC: Okay, guys. Did any of you think that Aginor was the only guy who
  could cook up bad monsters? This guy went for quality work. He would have
  been a forsaken but was killed too early on, just before he was to present
  his lovely creations to the Dark One.
  Things about this situation that Darren hasn't noticed:
  We are fighting underneath a gigantic, sick, Avendesora. Rather than its
  natural metallic colors it is a gray. The light is still silvery but each
  leaf is rather dull.
  Its branches are full of squid-like creatures. These creatures live off of
  the Avendesora. They have a form of anti-Great Song in them. They can drop
  to the ground and sink into it, and begin humming. In about a minute, where
  they were before, a hundred 2 foot tall insectoid warriors will sprout up.
  They have done this, but Darren hadn't noticed, having had our hands full
  of a dozen channelling centaurs. One of you might notice this when it
  happened.
  If you are wondering what the nature of the trap was, the room was made of
  stasis (like in stasis boxes). When the ward broke, the stasis broke, so
  the creatures he had frozen unfroze. Nice booby trap, no?
  BTW: The reflection was because light can't get into the stasis.
  Once we've fought off the two waves of monsters we can begin deciphering
  the note. It should lead us to the answer.

  Luke

 Myiona sank into a chair as soon as she and Mura'shar reached the others.
  She clearly hadn't fully recovered yet. Mura'shar stayed next to her and
  looked around.
  Several other members of the Black Tower were already there, and more
  were coming. He saw the picture that had been described to him and shivered.
  He felt a familiar feeling of dread, though not as strong, rushed through him.
  He realized he was backing away and stopped. Myiona was also affected.
  She had her hand raised to her chest, just over the wound she had taken when
  facing the statue. Mura'shar put a hand on her shoulder and realized she as
  trembling. They stayed as far from the picture as they could.
  Regnar entered the room. He seemed to recognize it as an antechamber. He
  walked right past the picture and opened a door. The others quickly followed.
  Mura'shar held onto Myiona's arm in case she needed assistance
  Mura'shar couldn't contain his curiosity. "How did you know this was a
  senate chamber? And where this door leads?"
  "The statue told me before you destroyed it." He
  finally responded."
  So others had run afoul of the statue and escaped. He'd have to remember
  to ask Regnar what he saw, exactly. Al he recalled was some vague images and
  sensations, none pleasant. And whatever Myiona saw nearly killed her. What wa
  s that thing designed to do, exactly?
  Mura'shar was so wrapped up in his own thoughts he hadn't realized how
  far they'd come until he heard Tareena say to Daren "Don't go alone. This
  feels bad. Link." Mura'shar eased his sword out of is sheath and looked
  around.
  As they entered the office, he noticed that everything seemed to have a
  reflective property to it. The uneven ceiling created some unsettling
  shadows, like something was skulking about waiting for you to turn your back.
  Darren was examining something on the desk that unsettled him. He swung one
  of his swords and a paper flew off the desk.
  As if that was a signal, light flooded the room. As Mura'shar blinked,
  he heard hoofbeats. What fool would ride a horse into a building?
  Something slammed into him and he fell to the ground as something whooshed
  overhead.
  Mura'shar sat up. Myiona was already scrambling to her feet. Se had
  pushed him out of the way of a huge creature, half man and half horse. It
  was armored and wielding a huge ax. As it raised its weapon again, Mura'shar
  swung his sword at one of its legs. It bit deep into the creature's knee
  The centaur bellowed and fell. It began to weave something with the One
  Power! Mura'shar recovered from his shock and wove a simple spear of air and
  plunged it into the beasts heart.
  Mura'shar looked around there were ten or twelve others attacking the
  Black Tower. Two of them broke away and headed towards him. As he raised his
  sword to meet one, he asked Myiona "Are you well enough to fight yet?"

  Jake
  Marked Asha'man

 "Are you well enough to fight yet?" Mura'shar asked as the two beasts
  headed for them.
  "I suppose I have no choice," she said quietly. "I will do my best."
  She pulled the bola from a pocket in her dress and swung it around. One of
  the creatures fell hard. Myiona pelted it with fire balls, which it easily
  deflected. It still had not gotten the bola from its legs.
  Myiona advanced on it with her sword ready. Two quick slices had the
  beast bellowing in rage. She backed up quickly and slammed it with a wall
  of air, followed by another attack with the sword. It took a long time, or
  so it seemed, before she killed the beast. She sighed and looked over to
  see how her bondmate was doing.

 Stevan glanced around. The tide of Asha'man and Dragonsworn coming into the
  main hall of the Black Tower had almost ceased, and most of those who were
  already sitting on the benches provided were gazing impatiently towards him.
  He nodded towards Darren and Traighan who were beside the double door at the
  back, and they silently shut them, and then took up positions in front of
  each door, ensuring that no-one could come in without their permission.

  The hall fell silent as Stevan stood and took a deep breath. He wasn't used
  to having to make these speeches. Leading his comrades into battle and
  discussing tactics were second nature to him, and he had done them many times
  before, but speeches were a difficulty. Still, it was his job and he had to
  do it.

  "You have been gathered here to witness a Proving," he began, hoping his
  voice wasn't noticably quavering. "There is one among you who has Proven
  herself worthy of a higher rank. Therefore I would like to call forward
  Ariana Kantori." The Dragonsworn gasped in shock, and hurriedly made her way
  forwards, past the rows of other envious Asha'man and Dragonsworn. Soon she
  was before him, and she stood nervously straightening her clothes.

  "Ariana, you have performed great service to the Black Tower. Your skill in
  Healing has been greatly appreciated, and has helped many times in battle.
  You are always at the front of the action, eagerly serving the Lord Dragon in
  fighting against the Dark One. Your contributions are numerous and you are a
  vital member of the Black Tower. Therefore I have no hesistation in Proving
  you to the rank of Marked. This time there are no extra pins to give you -
  you already wear those of the sword and the dragon. But from now on your
  title shall be Ariana Kantori, Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower."

  The hall slowly ruptured into applause as Ariana smiled gratefully towards
  him, and then slowly made her way back to her seat. "You are dismissed,"
  Stevan said loudly as he strode down the aisle in the middle of the hall, and
  Darren and Traighan opened the doors for him to leave. Striding out, he felt
  a great sense of satisfaction. Ariana deserved it, she was so pleased. Maybe
  higher responsibility leads to higher rewards...?
 

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

 A Trolloc's catchpole fell against Stevan's shoulder as he rode his steed
  amongst the battle. The sound of men and Shadowspawn fighting rattled his
  ears, and the stench of blood and death almost overwhelmed him. He swang his
  sword left and right, hearing the thud of limbs hitting the ground moments
  after each swing. Then a road through the battle seemed to open up in front
  of him, and there stood a Myrdraal, it's penetrating gaze freezing his soul...

  Stevan stepped carefully into the clearing, free from the overhanging
  influence of the sickly trees of the Blight. His sword was stretched out in
  front of him, clasped in two hands, as he moved silently, listening. Suddenly
  a branch snapped behind him...and he turned and screamed to see the Worm
  bearing down on him...

  Men and women of the Black Tower were vainly trying to push the vast tide of
  Shadowspawn back, as they tried to break into the room where all the evil
  seemed to stem from. Ivan was at the head, leading the charge, his blade
  thrashing wildly, and saidin dancing around him like leaves falling from
  trees in autumn. Most of these Shadowspawn Stevan had never seen before, but
  evil radiated from them just as much as from Trollocs, Myrdraal and Draghkar.
  Panting heavily after one foe fell to his sword, he took a deep breath and
  engaged another...

  He had fought many types of Shadowspawn...even ones never seen by anyone else
  before. But these were different. He wasn't a scientist, or even a scholar,
  but he would place a bet that it wasn't Aginor who made these beasts. Luckily
  there weren't many compared with the members of Haza and Maelstrom, so Stevan
  expected that the battle would be an easy win.

  Then he stopped. These creatures were weaving saidin! Some Shadowspawn
  admittedly had done so before...but these seemed to have remote human
  intelligence in forming the weaves. Perhaps these battles aren't going to be
  as easy as I thought...

  He turned to Andraia. "You shield a creature while I fight it?" he queried,
  and she nodded and he felt that tingling that only came when a woman was
  channelling. "And..." He found the words difficult to come out, as she turned
  towards him again. "...try and watch your back."

  "Thank you Stevan," she answered, emotionless as always. She turned away from
  him and faced one of the creatures, and he drew his sword out of its scabbard
  as one of the creatures turned towards the bondmate. Obviously enraged by its
  sudden shielding, it charged.
 

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

 Andraia started slightly as the centuar charged her. It was massive,
  with weapons wielded in huge hands that looked as though they could crush
  rock and musecles bulging around it's metal chestplate. It was also very,
  very enraged. She took an involuntary step back, before stiffening her
  spine. A horsey freak of nature was not going to make her into a shivering
  mass of fear! She pulled out one of her tiny throwing knives and hefted it.
  It wouldn't kill the beast, put perhaps...
  She dropped and rolled to the side, emerging from the controlled fall to
  the side of the beast on one knee. The move surprised the centaur, who tried
  to check it's rush and and turn toward her, but here it's bulk was a hamper
  instead of a help. She cocked her arm back and threw the knife, not at the
  creature's torso, but at the plunging legs.
  The tiny missile streaked toward it's target and skimmed by the leg,
  narrowly missing. She cursed softly under her breath and pulled out another
  knife, ready to try again.
  Stevan was already engaging the centaur, his sword flashing in rhythm
  with the horse-man's. But the beast was using it's legs as well, lashing out
  at her bondmate, narrowly missing each time. She knew that his luck couldn't
  hold forever, she she aimed carefully, and prepared to throw. She turned her
  head at a cry from Stevan, whose luck had run out. One of the flashing
  hooves had caught him in the thigh and opened a gash, forcing Stevan to back
  away and allowing the centaur to search for her, it's original target. It
  needed to be able to channel to win it's battle, so now it had only to kill
  her...
  She threw her knife. The shining steel once again arched toward it's
  target... and this time, it hit. Landing in the back of the centaur's front
  leg, it severed the taunt tendon, bringing the centaur crashing to the
  ground. Stevan lunged forward, driving his sword through the beast's heart,
  killing it. As he pulled it out Andraia went to him and forced him to sit so
  she could examine his leg. The sharp hoof had made a small cut, and the
  bruise would be ugly, but it had only grazed him, not breaking the bone. She
  helped him stand, supporting him with an arm around his shoulders, and looked
  to see how the others were faring.

  Andraia Korinth
  Actually RPing!

 Stevan relied heavily on Andraia as he stood, his leg throbbing. He hoped the
  centaur hooves weren't forged with human souls on the slopes of Shayol Ghul,
  for then he would be in trouble. Wincing, he spoke to Andraia. "Well
  shielded. And where did you learn that knife throwing?"

  She opened her mouth to respond but there was no time for any sound to come
  out before Stevan pushed her to the ground as a fireball thudded into the
  wall of the room where his bondmate had stood just a moment before. Now with
  no support he fell onto his healthy leg as he turned to face the centaur, who
  was beginning to weave another fireball with saidin. This time the centaur's
  attention was upon the Asha'man, and a fireball hurtled from his hand.

  Stevan channelled and wove a protective shield of Fire and Air. The fireball
  thudded into it and died down, and Stevan quickly wove a shield to stop his
  enemy from causing him any more trouble. Enraged at being cut off from the
  One Source, the centaur charged at him, face contorted into one of extreme
  hatred. Not knowing what to do due to his weakness, Stevan quickly made a
  shield of Air to block the advancing centaur.

  But that took his attention away from keeping the centaur cut off from
  saidin, and it could now easily break its weakened shield. Stevan reeled in
  shock as he felt the centaur seize saidin again, and the only defence he
  could think of was to channel all his strength into forming a shield around
  himself.

  Then the centaur suddenly collapsed onto the ground, blood pouring out of a
  wound in its chest, and a knife lying before it. "You saved my life, it was
  now my turn to save yours." The quiet yet sharp voice spoke on his left, and
  he turned to see Andraia looking at him with her wide grey eyes. Light...she
  was beautiful aside from being albino... He quickly managed to turn his
  attention back to what she had said. "It was nothing. And thank you."

  "We'd better have a look at your wound," she replied as she knelt down and
  studied the gash in his knee, and then pulled out a strip of cloth from her
  dress. But Stevan's attention turned from her to what was happening to the
  ground in front of him, and throughout the room. Little insectoids, about two
  feet high were merging out of the floor...
 

  Steve
  <><

 
  How did I get into this situation? Mura'shar thought to himself. During
  the course of the battle, he had somehow gotten onto the back of one of the
  centaurs and was now hanging on for dear life.
  The good part was that the centaur couldn't reach him with its weapons
  and didn't dare attack him with the One Power. On the down side, the monster
  was bucking and rearing and thrashing so hard Mura'shar was hard-pressed to
  keep his seat and keep from being trampled to death.
  Finally, Mura'shar dropped his sword and drew his dagger. He got one
  hand under the centaur's jaw and dragged the knife across the beast's throat.
  Mura'shar dove off as the centaur crashed to the ground.
  Mura'shar dusted himself off and looked around. Myiona was all right.
  She looked relived to see he was okay as well. The rest of the centaurs were
  being dispatched with relative ease. Unable to resist a burst of
  showmanship, he flashed Myiona a smile and gave a bow.
  Something dropped onto Mura'shar's shoulders. He brushed it off and when
  he looked down he saw it was some kind of enormous bug. He crushed it under
  his foot with a grimace. Another followed after it and began digging into
  the ground.
  Myiona gave a small shriek as a third insect landed in her hair. She
  quickly brushed it of and kicked it away. It too began digging as well.
  Where were these things coming from?
  Another large bug scuttled up to him and grabbed Mura'shar by the foot.
  This thing was at least two feet long and had powerful jaws. Mura'shar
  couldn't shake it. A careful burst of the One Power was needed to blow it
  apart and get it off his foot. But more were coming. And more.
  Mura'shar scooped up his sword and stood next to Myiona. There were
  dozens of the creatures now, all around them. His foot was starting to throb
  and he hoped these creatures weren't venomous. "This just keeps getting
  better and better, doesn't it?" he muttered

  Jake
  Marked Asha'man

 Man hath two attendant angels
  Ever waiting by his side,
  With him wheresoe'r he wanders,
  Wheresoe'r his feet abide;
  One to warn him when he darkleth,
  And rebuke him if he stray;
  One to leave him to his nature,
  And so let him go his way.

  Prince

  1.

  "Get up sleepy head," Ivan stood over Janara looking down at her as she
  opened
  her eyes. She must have dazed off. Her shoulder ached from laying on the hard
  floor. "All Black Tower members are supposed to meet and I assume that still
  includes your lazy butt!"
  Janara scrambled up, almost falling over if it were not for the post she
  had
  etched her name in. There was a slight blush to her face. She hoped Ivan
  didn't
  notice - it was such a silly act in the first place. To Janara's relief, Ivan
  didn't appear to notice.
  "Has someone found something?" Janara asked.
  "Yes, follow me."
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  ---------

  2.

  The painting held Janara's gaze for what seemed like an eternity. She heard the
  other members of the Black Tower making plans. Some people whispered about who
  they thought the painting was of, most appeared uncomfortable around it - even
  frightened. A cold shiver crept up Janara's spine. She was afraid.

  Though the painting itself wasn't very large, it dominated the room. The man
  portrayed reminded Janara of a cross between a politician and an army general -
  it
  was his assured gaze and the aura of death that surrounded his image.
  "It's like he stares into your soul through your eyes," someone whispered
  pulling back. The other Dragon sworn smacked into Janara who realized suddenly
  that she was almost touching the portrait. ~Eyes~ Janara thought as her hand
  reached up. Memories of people commenting about how the paintings eyes attach
  to
  theirs flooded her. ~But he's not looking into my eyes, no...he seems to be
  looking at my belly~
  "Ivan, let her do what she must," Janara heard La'rece say. La'rece was
  somewhere.
  Janara touched the edge of the painting and fell to the floor.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  ----------

  3.

  A cold shiver crept up Janara's spine as the healer touched her belly. She and
  Julius had tried for years to have a baby. They had traveled far in hopes of
  working with the famous healer. He indeed worked wonders - within a week she
  was
  with child. The healer said he suspected that the child would be strong with
  the
  power. Both she and Julius had some talents, that is why they tried so hard.
  People said hard times were ahead. Another channeler would be welcome.
  "I have some concerns," the healer said. Janara's heart stopped.
  "Concerns?"
  "Yes, go out to your husband and tell him that I said it would be best if
  you
  stay here for the rest of the term, until the child is born." The healer smiled
  at her and put his hand on her shoulder. Janara's heart raced faster. Her body
  tingled. "Oh," the healer said looking into her eyes. His smile was so
  handsome.
  "This will be, um, delicate. It would be best if he doesn't visit you until the
  end. We wouldn't want any mishaps, would we?" His smile was so warm. Janara
  felt
  hot. She got up and went to the waiting room. She told Julius what the healer
  said. She reassured him everything would be fine and this was for the best. He
  finally agreed. No, she didn't need anything, the healer had room and supplies.
  Yes, she was sure this was best. Someone needed to take care of things back
  home. Julius could go...don't feel guilty...it's all right love...

  The healer was waiting back in his office. "You're quarters are this way," he
  said. He was so handsome. Janara followed him. They passed another office.
  They passed a woman as big as she sitting in another room. "Hello," the woman
  called to the healer. He walked right past her. Janara felt honored that he
  was
  with her and not the other woman. The other woman was nothing. Janara was
  important. Janara straightened herself up and held her head high. They walked
  past a woman being cut open. She seemed to be screaming but no sound came out
  of
  her lips. She was tied down with leather. It was a normal operation, nothing
  to
  be concerned about. They passed a room with a vat full of fetuses. Little
  unborn
  babies with open eyes swimming in a giant pool of liquid. One was on a table,
  pieces of it at it's side. Flesh from a fetus was best, especially ones who
  would
  be channelers. Janara thought little unborn babies were so cute. They moved on.
  They passed other things...living things made of parts from animals and people
  and
  darkness. Darkness touched Janara. It reassured her. At last they stopped.
  There was a nice big door into Janara's very own private jail. This was her
  room. She had been here all her life - every scratch was familiar. A tear fell
  from Janara's eye.
  "Thank you for all your help," she said to the healer.
  "My pleasure," he replied as he stepped into the cell after Janara, shut
  the
  door behind him and took off his white coat.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  ---------

  4.

  "Of course she's alive!" La'rece's voice echoed in Janara's mind after she
  heard it with her ears. "Do you think I'd let her touch the light forsaken
  thing
  if I thought it would do any real damage to her?"
  Janara opened her eyes. La'race rushed over. "Are you ok?" Janara
  nodded. Ivan stood over her once again. He was frowning at La'rece. "I see
  you
  weren't worried in the least," Ivan said sarcastically. To Janara he said,
  "Laying on your butt as usual I see" and grinned. Janara couldn't help but
  grin.
  Then she noticed the painting and started to shake. This time it wasn't fear,
  this time it was anger!
  "That," Janara said pointing at the portrait, "is a baby killer!" Ivan's
  sword was in his hand. Janara felt him feeling what she felt through the bond.
  Neither he nor La'rece had her vision, they didn't have to. Ivan rushed into
  the
  next room. La'rece opened herself up to the power. The painting burst into
  flame.

  Janara Dragonsworn
  Bondmate to Ivan and La'rece

  -val

 
  Tareena stood gasping for breath, allowing her hold on the link and then
  Saidar slip away reluctantly. She was beginning to tire, leading a link of
  four is strenuous at best but when you add in the way her bondmate had
  wrested it from her without warning, it made it three times worse. He and I
  are going to have a nice long chat about this once we get out of this place.
  He may know how to use his swords but what he knows about the power and it's
  effects would fit into a thimble. Especially when it comes to the female
  half. He's not fit to Aghhh! What in the hell was that?
  Her diatribe was abruptly ended by the appearance of one ugly bug
  crawling up her pants. Without Saidar, she had no recourse but to try to
  fling it away from herself. The creature dug in and started the process of
  feeding off of her. Suddenly a blade came streaking out of nowhere to sever
  the head and shoulders of the strange creature, thereby ending it's blood
  buffet. Relief surged through her. Turning, she gave a brief nod of thanks
  to her bondmate. Well, maybe he's not so bad. After all, he DOES know how
  to use his swords.
  Looking around she noticed with horror that the insects were seemingly
  multiplying, even with the other members taking them out. Advancing as one,
  they continued their desperate struggle to gain new flesh and new food. They
  made an eerie sound shuffling along the ground, their antennae seeking before
  their bodies covered the ground. Caught up in the hypnotic movement she
  watched in fascination as they suddenly stopped in unison and began digging
  into the ground. Everyone stopped and watched the scene before them with a
  mixture of fascination and horror. The insects began an inexplicable
  keening/humming noise. Their antennae began to pull back into their heads.
  There multiple legs began to withdrawal into their outershell. Spiked tails
  were reeled in as well. Tareena felt like she was looking at a sea of black
  shells, encasing what used to be horrible, long creatures.
  Then the humming stopped. The metamorphosis continued. Huge scaled
  human like arms and legs began to protrude where moments earlier insect like
  parts prevailed. As they stood up, their heads spilt open, revealing two
  large eyes protected by what appeared to be helmets of scales. The final
  transformation came when they pulled huge sabers from within and began
  cutting the air with them. Their song began again, this time a battle chant,
  deep and throaty. Calling forth their numbers for the blood of their
  enemies.
  Tareena stood directly in back of Darren, trying in vain to open herself
  up to Saidar, her only weapon. Try as she might, it would not come. She had
  used her energy fighting the Centaurs. Hoping against hope, she placed her
  fate in the hands of her bondmate, willing it to be enough. The members of
  the tower took a collective deep breath and moved forward, to meet this new
  threat to their mission.

 Ariana faced off grimly against the new threat. A towering creature that,
  impossibly, seemed to be half man and half horse was charging her, and from
  his speed and the sharp pointy objects he had leveled at her chest, she
  didn't think his intent was friendly. The creature's face wore a wide grin,
  and he managed a sentence in badly mangled speech, "Wise Sarnac, attack
  cripple. Stay, girl. " then lapsed into what seemed to be the Old Tongue.
  Inside, the Healer's blood boiled. Cripple, am I? Easy prey? I think NOT!
  Still, she feigned wide-eyed shock and stood motionless until it was nearly
  atop her, then dropped and rolled between the deadly hooves and slashed at
  the hamstring of the shaggy hind leg with her belt knife. A howl, half human
  cry and half shrill scream of a horse in pain, testified that she had
  succeeded. By the time she regained her feet, the beast had turned to
  challenge her. "Now we're even," she told it calmly, not sure how much it
  could understand, but the face darkened with very human-looking anger. Then
  the unexpected happened- she felt...something... boring at the connection in
  her head. Simultaneously, she realized that she had siezed saidar and that
  the creature was trying to shield her. Saidin! "I don't think so." She
  told it, and fought with all the strength and desperation at her command. It
  wasn't quite enough; she felt the shield, a wall of nothingness, slide into
  place, but at least she had dulled the edge of the weave enough to prevent
  being stilled. Light! The very thought made her shudder. But right now she
  had other worries, like teaching this thing that she could fight without the
  Power.
  Plop! Something gray and squishy fell at her feet; she leapt back out of
  reflex and saw it was some sort of thing that looked like the squid she had
  seen in the Ebou Dari fish market. As she watched, advancing centaur
  temporarily disregarded, it soaked into the ground, and things like oversized
  bugs began to spring up. "How disgusting." Ariana, somewhat frantic,
  grabbed at the nearest one that waved menacing pinchers at her and snapped
  the two-foot tall thing's neck. She then proceeded to club the attacking
  centaur with the hard, spiny body. "Take that, you unnatural cross between a
  sorry plowhorse and a..." One of her blows connected solidly with the
  temple of the centaur, and by luck one of the back-spines of the bug-thing
  was driven cleanly into its skull. Looking stunned, no doubt at having been
  beaten by a shielded cripple wielding a dead bug, its four horse-legs folded
  under it and its eyes rolled up in its head. Ariana did not bother to try
  and pull the bug's corpse free; with the death of the shield's holder, the
  shield collapsed and saidar was once again open to her. Gladly she pulled in
  as much as she could, till the sweetness was almost pain, and began limping
  away from the main group. As she had hoped, most of the insects followed
  her, and the spreading circle of fire she released turned many of them into
  charred shapes. She channeled, and her staff of air was in her hands. Now
  was the time to fight.

 At first it was difficult for Janara to forget about her 'vision' and get
  into the fighting. La'rece and Ivan covered her well and neither said anything
  too insulting about her lack of concentration. When the insects started to fall
  Janara gave up using the power and just started hacking with her dagger.
  Everything was too close - the quarters were too cramped to risk...
  Whoosh! Everything caught on fire, including the bottom of the pants
  around
  Janara's legs. Someone had let off a huge screen of fire, Janara didn't know if
  whoever or whatever did was on her side or one of the monsters but it didn't
  matter much. Everyone was affected. Janara swore with the other people around
  her. She fell to the ground and got the fire on her clothes out. Her burnt
  legs
  stung with pain. Thankfully the insect type things started digging into the
  dirt
  floor - at least they weren't digging into Janara and the others. Also, it was
  a
  little easier to breath down on the ground. Black smoke from burnt monsters and
  everything else that was burning in the room - wasn't it some sort of lab...?
  Boom! Boom! Pop! Crash!
  Glass containers burst and slime that use to be in them spewed all over.
  Some of the liquids, or whatever bloody stuff it was, were flammable. Janara
  thought a lot of the other members of the tower spilled into another room where
  more fighting was going on. The area she was erupted into an inferno.
  "Janara!!!" La'rece yelled. Pain everywhere! Janara felt like she was
  being dragged. Then nothing.
  ___________________________________________________________________

  Janara Dragonsworn
  Bondmate to La'rece and Ivan

  ok - last I recall we were in a single room and I figured with all the power
  being thrown around, someone or something had to use fire and make everything go
  boom:) I don't care who or what it is. If someone wants to take "credit"
  that's
  fine - if not, it can be (as they say about Star Trek - a "red shirt") or one of
  the monsters (who may not care so much about the effect) I mentioned that
  others
  had moved into another area and I'm assuming that is where a lot of the other
  rp's (that don't mention a big explosion) are taking place. If someone wants to
  be the person that drags me elsewhere - that's cool - otherwise I'm going to
  have
  it be Ivan. Also, I'm really burnt - all over - and passed out.

  -val

 Rengar had thought that this mission would never come to an end, but after
  many long days of listening to Asha'man Panar yell at him, Tor and Mikel, any
  chance to merely sit and watch was welcome in his eyes.
  The Mark had decided to go into the Salidar camp himself, something the
  Rengar himself wouldn't have done, even if he had been an Asha'man. But at
  the moment he was still a Dedicated, although he was expecting his promotion
  any time now.
  It only took the Mark a few minutes before he had returned, bringing with him
  a frightened young woman. Rengar watched as Tor whispered a few words to
  Asha'man Panar, and was surprised when the Mark said:
  "Oh really? Then why don't you show us, Aielman, I warn you, anything goes
  wrong and all three of you won't see the Tower again."
  Rengar and Mikel shivered at that pronouncement, since the Mark gave off the
  air of a man that could do exactly what he had just said he would, even if he
  would be facing three men relatively strong in the One Power.
  "What is your name child?" Tor asked softly, gently. That was certainly a
  tone of voice that Rengar had never heard the Aielman use before. He's just
  full of surprises, isn't he? Rengar asked himself, intently focused on what
  was taking place here.
  "Niobe sir?", she replied, the bruises that had marked her body and face
  before pretty much gone after Tor had Healed her, though light scars still
  remained. No one could say that the Mark was a gentle man.
  "Do you know any of the sitters of the Hall?" Tor asked, staring at the young
  girl intently now as he continued to interrogate their young prisoner.
  "Yes." she answered. She seemed to be growing more pale and frightened with
  every question that Tor posed to her, and Rengar could only hope that Tor
  would finish with his questions soon. It was almost painful to see the girl
  like this, at the mercy of men that were far more powerful than she probably
  thought they were.
  "Do you know the interests of any?" he queried again, in a tone that prompted
  a quick response from the frightened girl.
  "Yes, two.", she said quickly, her eyes dashing to and fro around her now,
  never resting in one place to long. I wouldn't blame her for wanting to get
  away, Rengar thought to himself, realizing immediately that this was what she
  was thinking about.
  "I need you to bring one to us. Tell her that a group of lost travelers is
  here with an ill man. Tell her we require the service of an Aes Sedai. Tell
  her we know of things transpiring that would surely catch her interest. And
  try to bring her alone. Now walk back to camp. When you arrive there, you
  will awaken, and believe everything is as I say it is. This man will go with
  you, (indicating Enexus) and give you further instructions. He is one of the
  "travelers," Tor said, and Noibe ran as quickly as he small feet could carry
  her back to the Salidar camp, while the others waited to see if their bait
  would result in a good catch.
  After waiting for a good amount of time two horses approached their position
  on the hill, one white and one black. There was a woman sitting on the white
  one; with long ebony hair and emerald green eyes that seemed confused as she
  spotted the five men sitting on their horses on the hill, waiting. The figure
  on the black horse turned out to be a man, after the figure had gotten closer,
  with long blond hair to contrast his companions dark hair. He was also rather
  large in stature; probably the woman's Warder, or at least protector, Rengar
  thought to himself as the two came closer, coming to a complete stop before
  the group from the Black Tower a few moments later.
  "Hello, Goodman. I have been informed that you have a companion who is sick.
  Pray, show me to him, for I wish to hel..." the woman started to say, having
  directed her speech towards Tor. But before she was able to finish what she
  was saying she suddenly fell down to the ground, her face twisted in pain, and
  Rengar thought that he saw her mouth move to make a monosyllabic word before
  she completely lost consciousness.
  "We will take it from here. You three have new orders. You are to report to
  Tsorovan'm'hael Gregorian, in Caemlyn. I would suggest you hurry," Asha'man
  Panar told Tor, Mikel and Rengar after they had made a gateway to bring them
  close to the Black Tower. Tor nodded, and as Rengar watched the captured Aes
  Sedai being taken away by the Mark and Panar he couldn't help but feel sorry
  for her. Even if he most likely would never see her again in this lifetime,
  he still had a feeling that any person, even Aes Sedai, deserved the kind of
  treatment. Rengar knew the day would come where he would get bonded, and he
  knew that he would forever see a little of the captured Blue Sitter in whoever
  that woman may be.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------
  After recovering from the effects of the statue and being told that everyone
  was to meet in some underground lair of sorts, Rengar began to worry about
  Odessa. He could still feel her through their bond, but she seemed to far
  away to be at the meeting place; to far away for his comfort.
  What if something has happened to her? I should have gone with her, Rengar
  thought to himself as he began to break off on his own, he mind now firmly set
  on finding his bond-mate.
  He could feel her faintly in the back of his mind, though not enough to be
  positive as to wear she might be. She must be trapped somewhere, or else I
  would have seen her by now, Rengar reasoned, and that thought only made his
  search for Odessa more urgent. What if she's been stuck somewhere for hours,
  in this city. Who knows what kind of creatures lurk beneath this terrain.
  After wandering around the city for a good quarter of an hour, Rengar came
  upon a large red building with large wooden doors, made of oak. As Rengar
  opened the twin doors he could already tell that someone had been through here
  before him recently; the floor was covered with dust from a long period of not
  being swept, and there were fresh footprints in that dust. He may not be as
  good of a tracker as, say, Ivan, but he even his blind grandmother could have
  seen the relatively small footprints.
  Rengar noticed a few odd things about the inside of the building itself as he
  started down a large hallway, following what he assumed to be Odessa's
  footprints. There was a large mural painted on the ceiling that caught
  Rengar's notice as the hallway opened up into an equally cavernous room, as
  well as the enormous number of books lined up on all the walls of the room,
  reaching up the ceiling. But his thoughts were interrupted by the shouts he
  suddenly heard coming from the far side of the room.
  As Rengar made his way over to the area he didn't need a looking glass to see
  that Odessa, or whoever had been in here before, had been the victim of either
  very poor or very crafty architecture. I knew I should have told Odessa to
  lay off the macaroons and the other pastries, Rengar thought, knowing that now
  was not a good time to comment to Odessa about her weight. But still, it was
  funny to joke about her in his mind, where she couldn't hurt him. Of course,
  she hadn't gained a pound at all since the first day he saw her, which
  reminded him...
  But as Rengar jumped down the hole in the floor he did not immediately see
  his bond-mate, or anyone, for that matter, anywhere in the vicinity. The door
  immediately closed But he could feel her now, closer than she had ever been
  before. So channeling a bit of Fire he was able to light a piece of his
  uniform that he had torn off on fire, and having place the fabric on a stick,
  made a rather effective torch.
  "HELLO?! IS THERE ANYONE DOWN HERE?" Rengar heard someone ask faintly, and
  he followed the direction of that voice. At least I came to the right place,
  Rengar thought to himself, pushing cobwebs and other rather disgusting things
  out of his path. That is definitely Odessa voice, if I haven't heard it
  enough times before. Though she is usually using her voice to file one
  complaint or another to me.
  "I'm here, Odessa! Just stay right where you are!" Rengar yelled, picking up
  his pace through the dark underground of this city. What is she doing, coming
  down all this way? Why didn't she just blow the top off the trap door and
  escape? Rengar wondered.
  "Rengar, is that you? Oh, thank the Light!" Odessa voice cried, and before
  Rengar knew what was happening he felt Odessa small arms around his chest,
  hugging him close to her. "It took you long enough to find me!"
  "Well, that was fast!" Rengar said, unable to return Odessa's previous
  gesture because of the torch he still held in his hand. "How was I supposed
  to know that you were going to come all the way down here? Well, we might as
  well go back now. The others are waiting for us."
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------
  "I know this place! This is the Senate Chamber," Rengar cried as he entered
  the room where the others had gathered. Odessa walked beside him now, and
  though he was glad that she was all right an even greater feeling of curiosity
  and surprise came over him as he looked around the room. It looked almost
  exactly the way it had in his "vision", if you could call it that. Albeit the
  surfaces were worn and the colors faded, but that was to be expected when this
  much time has passed. But it was still very well-preserved. After he noticed
  the others staring at him as if were starting to become one of the natives of
  this land, he simply put: "The statue told me before you destroyed it."
  "This portal leads directly to the office of the 'great leader'. The one who
  turned the city over to the Dark One even before the War of the Shadow had
  really begun," Rengar added, seeing as though some people still didn't quite
  grasp what he was getting at. Of course, he had not actually seen the office
  of the Leader in his vision, but the person whom he had occupied during that
  experience at least seemed to know where the office was. The others seemed to
  be taking his word on the matter now, and they entered the portal into the
  office of the man who had betrayed an entire city.
  When Rengar first saw what the inside of the office looked like, he had to
  admit that he was a bit taken aback. Everything in the office had a
  reflection, almost as if they were all made out of the finest porcelain.
  Everything, except for a piece of paper and the chair sitting behind the glass
  desk cast a reflection that left almost everyone disoriented for a few moments
  before they adjusted to the abnormal properties of the room they now found
  themselves in.
  Comments were made by Tareena and a few others about the many oddities of the
  room, before Darren began to examine the piece of paper that seemed to be one
  of only two normal objects in the room. Then, the Asha'man took his sword out
  and slashed at the air directly above the paper, causing it to sail back into
  the seat of the chair. And that's when the real trouble began.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------
  The creatures were unlike Rengar had ever seen before in his life; they
  possessed the upper body characteristics of a man while they had the lower
  body traits of a horse. And the fact that they were somehow able to wield
  saidin didn't make matters any better.
  And to make matters worse Rengar was without Striker, which he had placed
  into the hindquarters of one of the creatures who was attacking them.
  Unfortunately the creatures seemed to have a tough skin, and he had been able
  to pull the sword out when the creature had broken away to fight some other,
  perhaps easier, Asha'men and Dragonsworn. And he seemed totally oblivious to
  the fact that Rengar's sword was sticking out of it's...
  "Rengar, take these!" Odessa yelled, placing two of her daggers into his
  hands. Rengar simply held them there for a moment, unsure as to what he was
  supposed to do with them while knowing what must be done. "What's the matter?
  Don't tell me you've never thrown daggers?"
  "I haven't," Rengar answered, smiling to spite Odessa. She in turn left her
  with an exasperated noise, which made him smile even more. How does she
  expect me to use these? I can't throw a dagger, accurately at least. I might
  wind up hitting another Asha'man or Dragonsworn! "Oh well, here goes
  nothing!"
  Rengar then took the two daggers and threw them in the direction of the
  creature who had taken his sword, and to his surprise and dismay both of the
  daggers stuck into the creature's body, causing it to howl in anger and pain.
  It then made it's way straight to Rengar, and it took a bit of quick thinking
  on his part to weave Fire onto to tail of the Shadowspawn, setting it aflame.
  He knew from experience that horses didn't like fire all that much, and he
  hoped that this Shadowspawn had a similar mentality.
  But as was usually the case with these types of missions, the real "fun" had
  only just begun, it seemed. After the centaur creature had been defeated
  Rengar heard several scream coming from the women and gasps from the men in
  the room as large black scarab-like creatures began their attack.
  "The amount of perks you get for this job still amaze me," Rengar muttered,
  as he retrieved Striker out of it's precarious position in the centaur corpse,
  reading to kill some of the dangerous pests. Then again, as the number of
  scarabs dramatically increased before Rengar's eyes, he was beginning to think
  the maybe the Black Tower members were the unwanted guests here.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------
  To give credit where it's due, the first section of this RP included many
  borrowed passages from one of Dave's (Tor's) RPs. Obviously he is no longer
  with us, but it still wouldn't be right not to acknowledge the fact.
  Hopefully we'll find some way to defeat this newest threat to the existence
  of the Black Tower (meaning the bugs), but I have to ask; are we technically
  finished with the mission? I know that we were supposed to retrieve a
  ter'angreal of some kind to help the Windfinders, but have we found it yet? I
  hope they're still alive to benefit, if we have. :)
  Kyle

 Oops. Ariana noticed that her fire-shield had given one of the enemies an
  idea. One of the two remaining horse-men cast out a hand and a liquid wall
  of fire, thin as a sheet but hot as a bread oven began to spread out from the
  four spread fingers. Out of reflex Ariana snapped out a containment weave-
  only to have it sliced through by something she could not feel but gave the
  impression of being sharp as a fine blade. The other man-horse, standing
  with the first, shot her a grin with too many teeth. Why that...Ariana began
  wading through the crowd towards the two, and she could see a few others who
  had avoided the flames doing the same. Apparently the group wouldn't be safe
  while the beasts were alive. Ariana had been at the far side of the room;
  the fire hadn't reached her yet. She shut her eyes to the sight of the
  injured, forced herself to focus only what needed doing immediately, and
  began making her way across the room. When the fire was not far, she encased
  herself in a shield of Air and Water that created coldness. It was
  surprisingly simple, provided one thought of a base for it; hers was a
  variant on the weave that would chill drinks. She still flinched as the fire
  passed around her; she could all to easily imagine it melting a way through
  her shield, and indeed the heat was enough to warm the cold air around her to
  an uncomfortable level, but the shield worked well enough. Now, if they
  could just get rid of those nasty channelling beasts...

  Ariana Kantori Aes Sedai
  Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower
  "Curiosity killed the cat- but I bet it was interesting."

 Andraia, still bandaging Stevan's wound, didn't notice the insectsoids at
  first. That is, until one bit her ankle. She cried out in pain and swatted
  the little bug, flinging it across the room to impact the wall with a wet
  splatting sound. Then she noticed that there were far more than just that
  one insect. She immediately stood, pulling Stevan up beside her, one arm
  wrapped securely around his wait, keeping him upright. The creatures were
  advancing, and with her bondmate wounded, dependant on her for support, she
  wasn't sure how she could fight them off. Short of channeling. She sighed
  inwardly and embraced the Source; there was no other option. She created a
  complex ring around them, bonds of Air that shifted in many different
  directions, impossible to walk on securely. She had crafted a trap into it,
  as well... any tiny foot that trod on one of the weaves would be caught in a
  trap, and the bug would be ripped apart like a pull toy at Beltine.
  It worked. The first insect that walked on the weave was torn apart,
  it's off-colored insides dripping onto the floor. The others hesitated, then
  advanced again, meeting the same fate. Obviously, they had a need to find
  prey that overrided their self-preservation.
  Once a good half of the advancing bugs had ripped themselves to shreds in
  the deadly weave, the others retreated, seeming to sink into the floor.
  Andraia relaxed slightly, loosening her arm from it's deathgrip around
  Stevan, who had been making gasping noises for quite some time. She was
  about to release her grip on the Source, detested thing that it was, when the
  things that had been the insects began to move again. She frowned slightly,
  starting as they rose up, having become tiny warriors, armed with large,
  deadly-looking swords. "Oh Light..."

  Andraia Korinth

 The strange thing about the bugs was their variety. No fewer than twelve
  different kinds of bugs, from quasi-humanoid to centipedic. Darren easily
  skewered a dozen of one kind, then was beaten back by a furious four sword
  wielding spider-like thing. he eventually managed to break each of its
  limbs, only receiving scratches on the knees. He turned just in time to see
  Tareena incinerate a very strange-looking quasi-humanoid quasi-lobster
  quasi-centipede monster. And then... silence.
  The bugs were done for.
  Darren finally got a look around him. They stood under an open sky (as open
  as the sky could be within this mountain crevice); the office was nowhere
  to be seen. Only a metal plate covered what had been the floor, and the
  sheet of paper lay on it. He winced even looking at it. Above them
  stretched wires, from which the insects had dropped. Darren traced the
  wires up to a tree.
  His jaw dropped.
  "Avendesora?"
  The tree of life stood, drained, bled nearly to death, strung down and its
  power drunk by the horrid insects. The great square that it had stood in
  was blocked off, full of tents and small buildings.
  Darren also noticed that the ground for many yards around the metal floor
  still had green grass, where everywhere else was dead.
  ****
  OOC: Since we've said some fairly contradictory things here I'm covering
  for it all. What do bugs look like? What kind of room are we in anyway? etc.
  If you are totally lost, here was the idea. Stasis. remember what the
  forsaken keep looking for? Boxes of stuff that was preserved from the AoL?
  The stasis makes nothing within it capable of changing at all. Well, this
  guy put a bunch of his centaur and insect guards into stasis. He also made
  the stasis into the shape of an office. You can sit on it... Nothing
  within can change, so you can't fall into it. Then when the trap was
  triggered, the office dissolves, leaving everyone outside. The stasis field
  had the monsters in it, so they charge whoever broke in. Of those NOT in
  the stasis field, most of the monsters died of starvation millennia ago.
  Avendesora is capable of living without sunlight (as witnessed in
  Rhuidean), so those monsters which lived off of it survived. We may find a
  few but nothing really worth worrying about.
  OKAY back to the story
  ****
  Various comments by those who thought they had something to say on the
  subject filtered into his mind very slowly. He walked towards it. The
  branches... he had always wanted to see this, the tree of life.. he had
  stared for hours at the drawings... but not like this. Not despoiled.
  Darren averted his eyes.
  Tareena was there. Darren turned away from the tree and took her hand. "We
  should forget this, and wait to see it in its full glory."
  "Thatnks for telling me before I looked," she teased.
  Darren looked back to where the room had been. Curiosity over the paper was
  building.
  ****
  OOC again:
  Remember that the sheet of paper has a major myrddraal-like fear aura on
  it. Good luck reading the thing.
  Ok, Though you can do what you woud like, I have an idea for a plot outline
  for the remainder of this RP.

  The paper has a summary of the various monsters _and ter'angreal-induced
  illnesses_ that this guy has invented for the use of the DO. It doesn't
  even mention the bugs (a failure)... but it does mention the seafolk
  illness, specifying the what and why of the seafolk illness, the means of
  using it (via ter'angreal of course) but only hints at a cure. We will
  recognize the sketch of the Ter'angreal as something the madmen had in
  their temple, so we will have to talk to them again... They know what to
  do, but of course we need to establish meaningful communication and then
  convince them to give the cure to us.

  what do you think?
  I know, lisa, we had something different in mind with us entering his lab.
  I agree that this should get in there somehow. Maybe to get the detailed
  information we need to break into a lab? There are certainly enough of them
  around. Our original idea was to have the paper be a list of what the labs
  were for. Perhaps this is the best idea after all.
  Oh well, we'll work it out. Everyone, be clear and let's try to avoid
  blatant contradiction
  ;)

  Luke
  Darren

 
  Stevan relied on Andraia to hold him up as he limped to the middle of the
  room. Thankfully all the insectoid warriors had been killed, and now the cool
  outside air seemed eerily silent compared with the cries, shouts and heat of
  a battle indoors.

  This whole situation reeked of "Darkfriend" or almost definitely worse. But
  when you combine the Dark One, an inventive channeler and a city from the Age
  of Legends, a ter'angreal to cause sickness in channelers was sure to be
  found nearby. And that meant that there would hopefully be a cure.

  He was slightly embarrassed with everyone having to look at their leader
  injured, but there was nothing he could do about it as this time. His
  attention was only on one thing - the piece of paper. It had fallen onto the
  floor by the desk and was sitting their enticing him to read it. Stevan spoke
  up. "Our answer to where to go next must be on that piece of paper. Therefore
  we need to read it."

  "We can't read that! You might as well try and beat a Myrdraal in a staring
  contest!" Stevan turned to see Darren looking at him in disbelief. "I'm sorry
  Tsorovan'm'hael," he continued, obviously sensing Stevan's displeasure at
  being doubted, "But I tried to look at it but it was so powerful...I can't
  see how we can manage to read it."

  Stevan grinned, and then laughed as Darren's face turned to one of complete
  puzzlement. "You're presuming that we have to actually look at it to read it,
  Asha'man. I have another idea." Now it was everyone's turn to be puzzled as
  Stevan seized saidin. Luna, La'rece, Odessa, Caballein, Alan, Luthar...they
  were all there, all looking at him as if he had been overcome by the taint.

  Glancing quickly at the parchment, ignoring the pain and fear he felt, he
  remember its exact position as he began to channel. He wove an intricate web
  of Fire, Air, Earth, Spirit and...may the Light help me...Water, just behind
  the parchment. Then in front of it he built a wall of Earth to conceal the
  parchment from view. The weave rippled, and slowly focused into reality...its
  reflective surface becoming smoother and smoother by the minute. Everyone
  gasped as they could see the piece of parchment reflected in the
  Power-wrought mirror, yet hidden from their view by the wall of Earth. But
  whereas the light was reflected, the fear was not, making the parchment as
  readable as any other.

  Stevan managed to turn, and he faced them with a smile on his face. "So...it
  appears as if we can read it without 'looking' at it. Xyranthes, you're the
  scholar. Would you care to tell us what it says?"
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  -------------------------------------------

  OOC: BTW this is necessarily an invitation for Pete to jump in with an
  RP...anyone can RP telling us what the parchment says.

  Steve
  <><

 Mura'shar checked his boots. One was all right, but the other was a
  total loss. The bug that grabbed it chewed a huge hole into it, and the fire
  pretty much finished the job on it. He didn't have time to weave a proper
  shield when the flames raced all over. He just had time to scoop up Myiona
  and held her above the fire while weaving as fast as he could. His legs were
  only slightly burnt, but his boots took the brunt of it.
  There goes my second-best pair of boots. He thought to himself. A boar
  got his first pair, but one of them was still wearable. The result was a
  slightly mismatched pair, but it would have to do. He certainly wasn't going
  to go on barefoot.
  "You didn't have to pick me up like that, you know" Myiona had just
  finished Healing him and was brushing insect parts from her hair.
  "If you like, I could set fire to your shoes so we'd be even" He replied.
  Myiona gave him a look but said nothing.
  Mura'shar looked around. The office was gone, and an open area had
  replaced it. They were standing on a metal plate that had been where the
  office floor, but green grass stretched on past that. Open sky stretched
  above them. Several people were looking up in wonder. It wasn't difficult
  to figure out what they were staring at. Avendesora, the Tree of Life.
  Or at least a replica of it. But no tree had those trefoil leaves like
  that. Save for the fact that it was so sickly, it was exactly as the stories
  said. But if this was Avendesora, how did the Aiel get a sapling of it to
  give to the Cairheinin all those centuries ago? The further they went into
  this place, the more mysterious the place became.
  Mura'shar found Regnar. "Did your visions have anything to say about
  this?" he asked. His own were far too general to et anything useful, save
  that the fate of this tree was one of the more minor evils committed by the
  owner of that office.
  "Nothing" Regnar replied. I didn't see this at all" He too, seemed
  uncomfortable around the tree. It seemed to emit an aura of anxiety and
  nervousness. There would be little useful rest to be gained here.
  Stevan, Xranthes, and several others were working on the sheet, trying to
  find a way to read it. After a great deal of channeling they managed find a
  way to read it
  "It's a list" Xyranthes reported. His voice grew more excited as he read
  moer of the document "I think we found what we were looking for!"

  ________________________________

  Well, I squeezed out enough creativiy for one more rp this month. I'm so
  proud of myself, though I probably shouldn't be:)

  Jake
  Marked Asha'man

 "You didn't have to pick me up like that, you know," Myiona said irritated
  at being tossed about like a sack of potatoes.
  "If you like, I could set fire to your shoes so we'd be even," he replied.
  Myiona thought he was trying to make a joke, but it wasn't very funny. She
  did not find anything about this situation that was funny.
  While he walked over to see what a couple of the Asha'men were reading,
  Myiona brushed off her dress. It had gotten dirt, soot, and some kind of
  green gook on it. She realized that the green stuff had come from the
  insects as they were killed.
  Myiona looked around to see how some of the others were doing. Most of the
  women looked as bedraggled as she felt. The men seemed to not even notice
  the horrible sight they presented.
  Myiona shook her head and then turned to look around. It appeared the enemy
  had finally been vanquished, at least she hoped they were all dead. The way
  her luck had been going they should be jumping out at them any minute.

  Vicky
  aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
  Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 The pale blue sky stretched for miles, as far as the eye could see. It
  was strange to be in an unknown place, brought here by the time portal of an
  inherently evil man. Who knew what could be found here...of course they had
  already seen some of it and fought others. This vista was broken only by
  the chair of the "office", the transplanted members of the Tower, and
  Avensedora.
  Tareena watched as others gathered around Stevan, trying to read the
  paper Darren had found. She knew her strengths did not lie in logic or
  deciphering, leave that to Andraia or Xyranthres. She was dirty, miserable
  and ached from head to foot. To defeat the warrior bugs she had been forced
  to open herself up to Saidar when already exhausted. The sweet painfulness
  had filled her. She had known that she was dangerously close to burning
  herself out but it could not be helped. People were counting on her and
  since she could not wield a conventional weapon, the power was all she had.
  With a sigh, she looked around once more. Tiredly she chuckled,
  realizing that a comfortable couch was not just going to appear before her.
  As her eyes swept the landscape they kept coming to rest on the Avendesora
  tree, almost if they were drawn to it. The tree was a shell of it's former
  self, drooping with the same exhaustion she felt only on a much grander
  scale. Thinking that she would rest against it she walked towards it,
  reveling in it's size and shape. As she neared the tree an odd sensation
  began to flow through her. Images to fast to comprehend jetted through her
  brain, she felt as though she was caught up in a whirlwind.
  Strange voices began a chanting rhythm. Somewhere in the far recesses
  of her mind, it was familiar. She knew she had heard it before. It became
  increasingly harder to think, much less remember. Movement caught her
  attention out of the corner of her eye. A treelimb reached out to grab her
  arm and pull her in, no it was a hand, no a limb, no a hand...which was it?
  She was confused, frightened now as she had never been before. The tree
  loomed larger than ever in front of her. She felt conflicting thoughts range
  through her head almost as if two different beings were arguing inside of
  her. The rhythm continued to pulse inside of her. Her feet moved forward no
  matter how hard she tried to will them to stop. She reached inside of
  herself, for her core of strength. For a moment, she felt connected to
  something outside of herself, a brief second where she understood what was
  being argued. With clarity she heard "No! let her go, it is over now, you
  cannot destroy me! I am the life, the bringer of life! Let her go!" Then
  it was gone, strangled by something more powerful. More hands (limbs)
  reached out to her. Tareena knew that what had been speaking was the core of
  the tree, searching to break free from the evil. Tears coursed down her
  cheeks, she did not want to go. Help me! she cried but there was no voice
  for people to hear, she had been silenced.
  Tareena managed to turn her head at the last moment before the evil drew
  her into the tree. She saw her friends still gathered around the paper,
  trying to figure out it's meaning, what it was trying to say to them. She
  wanted to scream it's hear!! it;s down here!! but she could not.
  Helplessness overwhelmed her as darkness closed in. The tree had opened and
  was now closed, drawing her inside.
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  ---------------------------------------------
  OOC: I thought it would be kind of cool if the paper was tied to the
  Avendesora tree. Maybe it is suggesting that to finally beat the evil, it
  must be removed from the tree? Obviously I have to be taken somewhere. If
  someone could have witnessed my being sucked into the tree by chance, then
  maybe it will lead us to the final lab and resting place of our evil man and
  the cure to the Sea Folk sickness. Maybe the paper has directions on the
  secret door in the tree? Just some suggestions, feel free to modify :) Just
  please don't leave me in the tree for long :)

  Lisa

 The pulsating rhythm of the chant continued to beat it's way throughout
  her consciousness forcing all thought and expression from her head. She was
  one and the same with the resonance. She was no longer Tareena, that was
  just a name someone had placed upon her long ago. She was not a body or a
  soul. She was a part of the great grinding beat, tatooing it's dominance
  upon her. She felt herself being drawn still further into the madness.
  Colors danced around her, writhing in ecstacy, blood red, dark brown,
  purple, burnt orange, weaving intricately through the dance. The floating
  sensation continued forming a pattern, spiral in nature. Larger at first,
  then beginning to become smaller and tighter. As she floated, images
  presented themselves, seen through the fabric of her mind, sightless eyes,
  useless. People, places filtered through the fog. A city! Rich in it's
  elegance, overan. Molten lava pouring itself through the cracks masons had
  known were not there. A gathering, a meeting, again fear dominating. Faster
  and faster she circled, winding her way through an unknown time. Silent
  enemies ripped at her, tearing and searing her to the core. Pain engulfed
  her, wracking her, torturing her. Monsters, created from the same evil she
  was now contained in. Destruction, mayhem, madness.
  The vileness that had entrapped the Avendesora now had her in it's
  grasp, showing her, through it's own unique circles, it's history of
  destruction. It taunted her, flaunting it's power and control. Almost she
  could hear it's voice, telling her she will never escape from it. It runs
  too deep, time allowing the evil to inscript itself, overcome the goodness of
  the tree of life. Almost she believed. Almost.
  Outside, in the vastness of an unknown place in time, a pale blue sky
  shown overhead, and a bondmate raged.

 Darren was rather amused at the result of the mirrors that Mura'shar had
  arranged to allow looking at the paper. Xyranthes was twisting his eyes to
  read the mirror-written old tongue.
  Something stopped happening right. Tareena...
  Darren turned to look at her. She was slowly wandering towards the tree.
  Strange rippling around the edges of the tree meant little to him, but were
  definitely scary. And Tareena was towards the center.
  Then he heard the sound. White noise, with a slight... was it a voice, or a
  song?
  He realized that he was hearing the white noise, and Tareena the voice. Of
  course, the link wasn't specific enough to hear what it was saying. Darren
  tried to close in on the tree, which was now rippling quite fiercely.
  Creaks from distorted limbs could be heard over the white noise.
  Darren siezed the source to cut off whatever was happening, though he could
  feel no saidin. Nothing. there was no saidar, no saidin. Nothing to cut. he
  flailed at it randomly anyway. Nothing. he dropped saidin, helpless.
  Tareena stood limply, swaying perhaps (it was hard to tell, with the
  rippling of space around her). The ripples all concentrated on Tareena for
  a moment, and she seemed to shrink to nothing. A slight blur as the whole
  mess sucked into a point on the trunk of the tree. It was done. The noise
  cut off, the tree only swayed itself to stillness.
  Darren charged ahead of the others, none of them aware of what the
  spectacle had been caused by or what it involved, except that Tareena was
  now gone, probably inside the tree! He reached the trunk, having kept his
  eyes riveted upon the hole she had been drawn through. It was no larger
  than a keyhole.
  "HOW? HOW HOW HOW IN THE NAME OF THE LIGHT DID THAT HAPPEN?"
  He rounded on Xyranthes, who was towards the rear. "Does that paper mention
  this?"
  ****
  Of course, it does. What exactly was going on, whether it is TP or song or
  wierd science, I don't know for sure...

  BTW: sorry about that bizarre RP I sent last time.

  Luke

 Ever since entering the city Xyranthes had been completely absorbed in
  everything around him. Eyes wide with joy at the sights abundant in this
  slice of history, the old Cairheinian began to wander on his own, peering
  into homes and large metal boxes whose top was hinged, allowing the top to
  open just enough for the nobleman to wiggle into the box. Inside was mostly
  the remains of what must have been garbage. Eventually the sounds of the
  black tower members drifted off, and Xyranthes found himself alone.
  "Where has everyone else gone, I couldn't have been inside the ... dumpster
  '?' for that long. And why am I talking to myself."
  All to soon the aimless wandering was cut short, called back by order of
  Steven, Xyranthes entered the Senate chambers just as the battle with the
  centaurs ended. And now a new puzzle to toy with. Suppressing a giggle of
  excitement as he tried to decipher the list before him, Xyranthes could make
  out names.
  "Ammen Veers, Imperial Walker; J. Oppenhiemer, Manhattan Project..." As h
  read further on the list...
  <<<
  Darren charged ahead of the others, none of them aware of what the
  spectacle had been caused by or what it involved, except that Tareena was
  now gone, probably inside the tree! He reached the trunk, having kept his
  eyes riveted upon the hole she had been drawn through. It was no larger
  than a keyhole.
  "HOW? HOW HOW HOW IN THE NAME OF THE LIGHT DID THAT HAPPEN?"
  He rounded on Xyranthes, who was towards the rear. "Does that paper mention
  this?">>>
  "Ahh, um, let's see.... Triton missile ... no that's not it ... Ahh, oh here.
  Eh? Oh, apparently the tree is not quite a true Avendesora, but a construct
  of some sort. It tries to exist by feeding, the tree creates a form of sub
  harmonics, it vibrates if you will, and creates a resonance, any living
  matter that echoes the harmonics is caught in a weave, shrinking them down,
  and feeding on them. According to this, it takes about a thousand years to
  completely digest someone.

  _____
  Boy it's hard to RP after so long, but there it is. BTW, I was thinking, the
  Tree may be our evil Ter'Angreal that is making the seafolk sick. My idea is
  that the tree uses flows of air, and with the bowl of winds active, maybe the
  tree is intensifying it's harmonics, and those who channel Air a lot, like
  the Windfinder, are becoming ill from the harmonics. I seem to recall
  something about scientists in France playing around with sub frequencies and
  causing all sorts of illnesses in the towns near the lab. But I'm rambling
  now, hope the RP didn't suck too much.
  BTW, points to those who can accurately list all the references I have placed
  in this RP.

  Peter
  <><

 Ariana, completely absorbed in watching the scroll readers, had missed the
  spectacle of Tareena disappearing into the great tree. She shivered and eyed
  the thing with suspicion. I don't even want to get close to it. I have no
  intention of becoming tree food. Then, as she heard the discourse being
  carried on near the scroll, thought grimly that a thousand years of digestion
  by a not-tree, or rather not-Tree, would not be enjoyable. She kept back a
  grimace at the thought and edged closer to the scrolls and the complex
  mirror-flows that allowed the Black Tower members to read it without
  suffering from the fear-weave on the real thing. She wasn't sure what she
  could do; her skills lay elsewhere than attacking evil tree entities.
  Shrugging mentally, she began going about the room, checking on those who
  were injured and Healing. Once the minor wounds of the standing group were
  taken care of, she started searching the room. There was no telling how many
  Tower members had been in it when the fight began, but against all that had
  been thrown at them she suspected at least one or two would have been taken
  by surprise. She prodded piles of insect corpses with her toe to discover
  anything, human or otherwise, that might be beneath them, and discovering
  that the mastermind behind the attack had been extremely powerful- and very
  creative. At least a dozen kinds of creatures, all more or less resembling
  bugs, were represented by the bodies, and that was leaving out the half horse
  and half human creatures that had been able to channel. Her overactive
  imagination wondered idly how they managed six limbs without stumbling or
  dropping things. A larger brain, to handle all the input, perhaps an
  enlarged cerebellum to automatically control all the ordinary motions of
  walking? A rewiring of the nervous system? She skirted the centaur corpses,
  though, for they were surrounded by clear areas where their channeling had
  removed any other bodies. Ariana smiled grimly, remembering her own battle
  against one of them. I didn't know I could stave off panic for so long, she
  thought with surprise, recalling the horrible feel of the monster's shield
  cutting her off from the Source.
  Vaguely she could hear the murmurs of the others in the background,
  discussing how they could get their comrade out of the tree, but she couldn't
  make out individual words. She wasn't surprised; though there seemed to be
  no reason, they were almost whispering, and she felt like being quiet here
  too. The shock of the past attack and the strangeness of Tareena's
  disappearance were beginning to affect them, and Ariana recognized that she
  herself wasn't immune to it. Still, there was work to be done; she was sure
  she had seen some of their people drop in the brief glimpses she'd gotten
  while fighting. She continued her circuit around the room; reactions to
  wierdness would just have to wait.

  Ok, is anyone injured? What's next? :::grins::: this is starting to be fun.
  except maybe for the getting charged by a centaur part... oh well.
  :::laughs::: I'm out of creativity for now. Research paper and Sun Also
  Rises essay have worn out all my brain cells, i guess.

 
  Ariana put her hands on his wound, and Stevan's skin tingled as she
  seized saidar. Then he gasped as she wove her Healing weaves into his leg,
  and then what seemed like an age later, he panted as she released him. He
  touched his leg, and realised it was now Healed, and he stood gingerly, and
  then more confidently, as he gazed towards the tree.
  Stevan stared at the huge and sickly montrosity that had swallowed his
  second-in-command. Its trunk was bloated, and the leaves were filthy with
  disease. It looked as if it had been uprooted straight out of the Blight, and
  he edged away from it with the same unease and caution he felt when he was
  hunting Shadowspawn in the midsts of that Light-forsaken place.
  But that Stevan didn't just feel uncomfortable, his mind was in a state
  of panic and his heart was solely pumping more and more adrenaline around his
  body. Death is lighter than a feather...no! She can't die! I can't let one of
  my party die...
  Ignoring the murmurs and the panic-struck shouts of Darren, Stevan gazed
  at the tree. I want life, peace and beauty. I want to give Tareena life,
  because I only know death. I want to put this city at peace, finally at rest
  from the War of the Shadow. I want to give this place the beauty it deserves.
  And you defy all three of those ideals.
  Saidin rushed through him like a galloping horse as he seized the One
  Power. The taint filled his mind with sickness, but nothing could sicken him
  more than the sight of that tree. Weaving Air, he could hear Xyranthes
  talking behind him, "Hmm...the rest of this document seems to be in code..."
  then he cut off as he too turned to watch Stevan.
  With flows of Air, he grabbed the tree trunk and tried to wrench it open
  to get Tareena out. He winced and he drew on more and more of the Power, but
  to no avail. The energy drew out of him as he strained, strained so hard to
  defeat the evil...give life...bring peace...beautify...
  With one final effort he channelled Fire, and wove it into one final
  weave of Air that he forced into the trunk of the tree. The sickly trunk
  buckled and widened, and he wondered whether he could see it splitting. But
  that was his last thought before he felt himself being picked up by a tree
  limb and lifted towards the tree. And the final thing he saw before his
  vision turned to black was Duratan, Mura'shar and Andraia staring upwards in
  horror.
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------

  OOC: That's my offering. Stevan being impulsive as always has tried to take
  it on all by himself...and failed. Therefore at the moment he's dangling
  upside down by his leg, being held by a renegade tree limb. So it's up to the
  rest of you to rescue Tareena AND Stevan, as well as destroying the tree :)
  But remember, this tree is tough. Stevan's pretty strong, and he was
  channelling his two strongest Elements with all of his strength, and the tree
  was only just beginning to split open.

  Steve
  <><

 It looked like Stevan was going to split the tree open and save the day
  all by himself. Then the branch came from out of nowhere and snatched him
  away. Now he was dangling helpless from the tree, which was smoldering and
  cracked, but still seemed sturdy as ever.
  A few others began hurling fire and lightning at the tree with no
  appreciable affect when Darren bellowed "Stop! You'll hit Stevan" The
  assault abruptly stopped.
  "What now?" asked Andraia. "If we all link, could be get past the trees
  defenses?
  "Probably" said Mura'shar "But we'd also destroy Stevan and probably
  Tareena as well. We should find a way around it. Can we uproot that thin?
  Dig into the soil and hoist it up?"
  Darren shook his head "This thing is massive. The roots will run nearly
  as far into the ground as the branches into the air. That will take too long"
  A few other ideas were quickly brought up and scrapped. Poison.
  Girdling. Windstorms. Nothing seemed worth the effort.
  How about dehydration? Mura'shar ventured" If we can draw moisture from
  the air, can we draw it from a plant? Maybe we can dry the thing out"
  Myiona looked doubtful. Darren and Ariana exchanged glances. A young
  soldier who was standing quietly next to them had a thoughtful look on his
  face.
  "Maybe..." Ariana said after a moment. "we have to try something." the
  rest of the Black Tower was getting edgy. Their top two leaders were captives
  of the sick Avendesora and they were sitting on their hands. If something
  wasn't tried soon, someone was going to do something rash.
  Alright. Here's what we'll do. Mura'shar said. Everyone link. Try and
  suck all the moisture out of that thing. All of it. A few of us will wait
  until it frees Stevan and Tareena and get them away from the tree. I'll go,
  since I have no talent with Water. Darren and Ariana will come too. And..."
  he looked around and saw the Soldier that was observing their debate. He
  searched his memory for a name. "Duratan"
  The Tairen sprang forward and saluted. "You'll be coming with Darren,
  Ariana and I. When the tree drops its prisoners, we'll move forward and get
  them out of danger. We don't know what condition they'll be in, so be ready
  to carry someone"
  Duratan nodded and took a position with the others. Stevan had hardly
  moved since he was caught, which was worrying Mura'shar. But there was no
  time left to worry. Myiona had spread the word and a huge link was forming.
  "Begin when you're ready" He shouted.
  An enormous flow of the One Power ensued. HE could see the flows of
  saidin acting in concert with hidden saidar. The flows were more complex
  than anything he could manage unaided. He couldn't even comprehend some of
  it. It reached out to the tree holding his friends.
  At first, nothing happened. The rescue party grew impatient. Darren
  shifted his grip on his sword. His block would make saidin useless to him if
  they ran into trouble. But he knew how important it was for him to be by his
  bondmate's side Ariana shifted her feet. Mura'shar tried to keep a calm look
  on his face. It wasn't working.
  "Sir when will it..." Duragan whispered to him then stopped. A faint
  mist was rising from the tree. The remaining fires hissed and sputtered as
  condensed water passed through them. The cloud was leaving the tree, heading
  towards the linked Black Tower members.
  "I think this answers your question" Mura'shar replied. Not quite
  daring to hope. "Now get ready."

  ____________________________________________

  OOC This is just a plan I threw together. I have no idea if it would work or
  not, so if anyone else has a better idea, I wouldn't mind if this one failed:)

  Jake
  Marked Asha'man

 
  Images continued to flow through her mind, the evilness caressing her
  almost as a lover would worship his love. The unending pain had become all
  encompassing. The core of her knew she could not take much more of this.
  Whatever entity that had her in its grasp had taken her back through the life
  cycle of the tree and of the city. It had shown her how the city was
  thriving, a wonderful place of peace and happiness. It had shown her how the
  people were oblivious to the darkness taking root in the tree, created by an
  ambitious man. It had shown her how the once revered Aes Sedai of the city,
  men and women, were tortured and slain and driven from the walls to take up
  residence in the rough terrain, eventually becoming the "madmen" the group
  had ran into. Their courageous brothers and sisters had stolen some of his
  creations, hoping to at least weaken him in some way. Tareena saw the
  fountain and remembered its effects. She also saw Ter'angreals, brought out
  at the expense of lives. They knew not that these things held the evil of
  the man inside of them.
  It laid open its triumph to her like a strutting rooster, knowing each
  image was a knife to her soul. It showed the domination and complete reign
  of terror the people of the city were forced to endure. It showed the
  eventual destruction of the people. Rended in fire and flame. Earthquakes,
  volcanic eruptions, flood, all forces of nature rearing its power to defeat
  the darkened city, its foe. Then, darkness. All that existed was the small
  pulsating glow of evil, lying within the tree, dormant. Until a new group of
  Aes Sedai had arrived, setting it free. Tears leaked from Tareena's face as
  these things became imprinted in her memory. Time mattered not, she floated
  on.
  Suddenly a shift, a jolt ended her endless floating. Suspended time,
  whatever force that had been holding her seemed to wait, almost like it was
  listening to something. Its attention seemed to no longer be centered on
  her, but on something unseen. The pain receded, becoming bearable. She
  began to be able to almost grasp her consciousness. Summoning her strength,
  she fought it, striving, pushing for it. The entity screamed, pushing back
  at her, she felt it grasp her again, wanting to push her back to her house of
  pain. She resisted. She felt something touching her, calling her. She
  reached out, opening herself to it. Pain ended abruptly. She was cushioned
  in the soft folds of light, goodness. Somewhere inside she knew she had
  tapped into the goodness of the Avensedora, trying, as she was, to fight its
  way out. Together they melded, pushing against the darkness.
  She could hear cracking sounds, feel the deep shuddering of the tree.
  Somehow she knew her friends were acting, searching for her. Silently she
  cried out her joy, knowing they would win. They would conquer this beast of
  the dark and restore the beauty of this tree to the world. Whatever they
  were doing, she could feel the anger and frustration of the evil turn into
  blind rage and then something she knew well, fear. Brightness flooded into
  the tree, blinding her in its brilliance. She realized that the tree had
  cracked, allowing light to filter in. She began to crawl towards the
  opening, physically being pushed/helped by the light of the tree.
  Hysterically she began screaming, using her last ounces of energy to reach
  the exit created for her. She pushed herself up and out. For one instant
  she felt herself flying free, breaking away from the pain and soul breaking
  fear. She landed, a crumpled heap upon the ground.
  Looking up, she saw the giant tree splitting in two, crumbling,
  breaking. Moisture was being drawn from it, killing the evil within. A
  great rumbling shook the ground. Roots and limbs began to push themselves up
  out of the ground. Dust and bark flew in every direction, blotting out
  sight.
  Tareena stood, brushing leaves and debris from her pants. Watching the
  dust settle she could not trust that her eyes were seeing what her mind was
  registering. Before where a knarled, broken, evil misshapen tree had stood,
  now stood a tree of brilliance. The Avensedora had won, the light breaking
  free from the darkness. The tree stood as it should, proud and beautiful.
  Tareena walked up to it and laid her head upon it. Sobbing, she let go of
  all her fear and pain, feeling the tree comforting her in her need. For one
  moment, she felt it speak to her, in her mind. Its last gift to her, for
  saving it. It showed her how to take bark from the tree and boil it into a
  tea, to save the others from the evil. It also beseeched her to do what was
  in her power to save her mad brothers and sisters. With one last caress, it
  was gone from her mind, but never from her heart.
  She turned from it then, looking out across the pale blue sky. A place
  of peace once more.

 
  As Tareena crawled out from the tree, Myiona released Saidar. She was tired
  from the strain of channeling so much in a short time. Her clothing was
  damp from the moisture that floated in the air. Her hair was plastered
  against her face. The exhausted Domani walked over to Tareena to check on
  her friend.
  The glow of the tree made her shade her eyes. The other tree seemed to eat
  the light and send back darkness. This radiated a light almost too intense
  to look at. Myiona shook her head as she realized that Tareena was in
  better shape than she was. Avensedora had somehow renewed the Seanchan's
  energy and health.
  Not trusting it to do the same for her, Myiona stepped quickly away. She
  did not want to open her self up completely to an entity which had been
  shrouded in darkness only moments before. After finding a place clear of
  debris and almost dry, she sat down and closed her eyes. A hand touched her
  shoulder and she turned around to see one of the new soldiers looking down
  at her in concern.

 The attempt to remove the moisture from the tree was successful. Duratan stood
  with the other three Black Tower members waiting for the tree to release those
  that had been taken captive.
  Tareena escaped from the inside after a huge crack split the tree almost in two.
  Another loud, cracking sound could be heard as the limb holding the
  Tsorovan'm'hael broke. As he tumbled to the ground, the others rushed forward
  to offer aid.
  Duratan was unsure of what to do. He stood waiting further orders, but when
  none came he turned and walked away from the tree. One of the dragonsworn, the
  sultry Domani named Myiona, seemed ready to collapse. He hurried over and
  reached her after she sat down upon the ground.
  Hesitantly, Duratan reached out and touched her shoulder. She looked up and he
  asked, "What is wrong? You looked ready to fall over a moment ago."

 The plan was working better than Mura'shar dared hope. The tree trembled
  as water and mist began to bleed from it. Yet it didn't seem to fight back.
  Or rather, it was struggling against something unseen, something within it.
  Soon everything around him was soaked from the mist. The branches of the
  tree began to sag and leaves curled and fell off. With a loud crack the
  branch holding Stevan broke off. The tsoravn'm'hael fell to the ground at
  the same time another fissure split the tree in half, releasing Tareena.
  The four rescuers rushed forward, but the tree had no fight left in it,
  assuming it had any to begin with. All that was left of the old was a
  lifeless husk...and a vibrant, new tree that emanated light and peace.
  Mura'shar's step faltered as he gazed on the Avendesora, the true
  Avendesora tree. He could believe every tale ever told about it looking at
  this silver tree with its blood-red trefoil leaves. A wave of calm wept over
  him as he turned back to the business at hand.
  As it turned out, there was little business to tend to. Stevan had been
  knocked about some, but was not seriously hurt. Andraia was already taking
  care of his injuries. Tareena was in better shape than anyone expected. She
  seemed to be in no need of Healing at all.
  Finding himself with suddenly nothing to do, he looked around again. The
  clearing was a much more pleasant place now. It was nothing he could
  pinpoint exactly, since nothing had changed aside from the tree and a great
  deal more mud. Bu everything still seemed more pleasing to the eye somehow.
  The Black Tower was starting to cluster around the tree, taking in the
  light and peace it offered. The Light knew the deserved it. What they had
  done took an enormous amount of the One Power and they must be dead tired.
  Mura'shar felt a pang of guilt for not participating.
  He frowned when he realized Myiona wasn't among those by the tree. He
  knew through the bond she was about ready to drop. Looking around, he
  spotter her at the far end of the clearing, almost as far from the tree as
  she could get, resting. The new Soldier, Duratan, was with her. In all the
  excitement with their released friends and the rebirth of the tree, he was
  totally forgotten! Mura'shar walked over to them. Avendesora is not
  something to be missed!

  Jake
  Marked Asha'man

 Myiona looked up at the soldier standing behind her. He was a newer
  member of the tower and she had never spoken to him before.
  "What is wrong?" he asked. "You looked ready to fall over a moment
  ago."
  Myiona sighed. "It has been a very long day full of too many
  surprises," she said. "I guess I am just tired, very tired."
  At that moment Mura'shar walked over. "Are you going to sit here," he
  asked, "or come enjoy Avendesora with the rest of us?"
  Myiona answered, "I don't know. I was resting for a few moments. It
  has been a hard day for me you know."
  She looked over at the tree and the others crowded around it. They all
  wore contented smiles and seemed to be refreshed. "I guess," she said
  wearily, "I should come over."
  Myiona stood up slowly. Her knees felt wobbly and she was a bit dizzy.
  "If the room would stop spinning," she said with a smile, "it would be
  easier to walk."

  Vicky
  aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
  Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower
 
 Tareena watched the members of the tower gather around the Avendsedora,
  admiring and enjoying its beauty and life. Tareena had mixed feelings about
  it. Part of her was drawn to it, wanting to bask in its goodness for all
  time. Most of her wanted to run as far away as she could get. The pain she
  had endured was fresh in her mind, threatening to drown her in its mire.
  Physcially she was fine, no outward signs of injury. Emotionally she was a
  maesma of mixed up ugliness. She wanted to strike out, she wanted to bury
  her head and never wake up, she wanted...oh, she didn't know what she wanted.

  Tareena walked over to Ariana and began to describe to her what the tea
  needed to consist of for healing the Sea Folk windfinders. Of all of the
  members, she would know best how to use the information and carry out the
  necessarry steps. She then gathered together the female novices and
  initiates, calming and soothing their anxieties and giving instructions. One
  of the new ones...Topire she thought her last name, showed great promise.
  She was quick to understand and marshal the others into action. Tareena made
  a note to herself to spend some time with her when they returned to the
  tower.
  Tareena then quietly conversed with Stevan and Andraia, letting them
  know what her ideas were regarding the madmen and women on the island. Her
  duties complete, she once again moved away from the group. Standing alone,
  looking out across the land, she wondered if she would ever find peace within
  herself. Silent tears began slipping down her cheeks. She tried to stop
  them, feeling weak. She knew that others depended on her to be strong, to
  lead. Right now she wanted nothing more than to bury her head in the mud.
  Looking around, she tried to find darren in the midst of the group. Hating
  herself for it, she wanted to touch him, be reassured, feel his strength and
  nearness. She saw him standing with a group of Ashaman, deep in
  conversation. Their eyes met and she saw his concerned look. Knowing it was
  for her, she felt guilty in her need. She could not expect him to push adise
  duty to run over to her. Knowing this in her mind did not stop it from
  hurting in her heart. Turning away, she began walking, hoping that it would
  ease some of her tension. The tears became harder to hold back, seeking a
  release from her pent up emotions. Breaking into sobs, she collapsed onto
  the ground. Fear and anguish poured from within, soaking the ground with its
  intensity. Sobs wracked her body, threatening to split her apart. She felt
  herself begining to lose control, flying apart at the seams, losing her grip
  on reality, she felt a hand gently touch her shoulder. Startled, she raised
  her head, instinctively flinching away. "It's okay, it's okay" she heard.
  She felt him sit down beside her and take her into his arms. Craving the
  touch, she allowed it, burrowing into his coat. She let go, like a child.

 Ariana lost no time in finding a spot to recline in beneath the great
  trefoil-leaved tree. Peace and quiet sounded very, very nice right now. She
  settled between two upraised roots that formed a large, comfortable V shape
  and used each root as an armrest. She stretched her legs out in front of her
  and crossed her ankles, made sure her skirt was tucked loosely around them so
  as not to be blown by any errant winds, and leaned back against the trunk,
  the image of contented rest. She could feel peace settle around her.
  Her reverie was broken by the arrival of Tareena, who had come to bring her
  the information they had come here seeking- a cure for the Windfinders'
  illness. Gratefully, Ariana produced a sheet of cheap paper and a bedraggled
  quill from her pack and jotted it down with ink from a tightly sealed bottle
  as soon as the Dragonsworn had left. It was little short of amazing that the
  ink-bottle had survived the arduous journey, but Ariana attributed that to
  the care she had taken when packing it. The bottle itself was of thick,
  durable glass, square-shaped and small enough to fit in her closed fist. Its
  metal lid sealed tightly, and she kept it in an oiled compartment in her pack
  to prevent it from spilling on something. All very useful precautions, she
  knew, especially with the priceless books in her bag now. When she had
  finished her scribbling, she blew the ink dry and carefully put away the pen
  and ink before tucking the paper between the pages of one of the books.
  Sighing contentedly, the tired Healer once more lay back and rested, her eyes
  closing almost of their own will. She wasn't exactly asleep, but not quite
  fully awake, either. Resting, with the shade of the silver leaves over her
  and the support of the massive roots around her, Ariana felt peaceful, one of
  the rarest things she had ever felt. Growing up half commoner and half
  noble, and as a channeler in Amadicia where channeling was outlawed, peace
  was not something any of her family had found often. Of course, her parents
  had found peace with each other, but the Healer had lived a solitary life as
  far as she could remember- as a child, there were no other playmates around,
  and in the White Tower she had held herself somewhat apart from the other
  novices, half of whom stared at her as she limped to classes and the other
  half who just ignored her. Which was easy enough to do; I walked to classes
  early so I wouldn't be late, and I studied in my spare time. And she had
  been the darling of most of her Yellow teachers, once it became apparent what
  Ajah she would join. But staying at the top of the class required work. Whil
  e they giggled about their future Warders, I was reviewing the basics of
  anatomy and the treatment of symptoms versus attacking the illness as a whole.
  Still, a solitary life had always suited her. To Heal was what she had
  always wanted, and she had found it at long last. Now she would even be able
  to Heal the Windfinders, as she had promised herself she would do. Looking
  back, she was happy at what she had managed to accomplish in her twenty-two
  years.
  Warm and content, the Healer fell asleep resting beneath the tree. Any
  problems of the future could wait.
  ~Erin
  Ariana Kantori Aes Sedai
  Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower
  "Curiosity killed the cat- but I bet it was interesting."
  Hey, on a different note, where's the kid? She sorta disappeared; did we
  leave her before we entered the city? Oh- and... Have a good spring break,
  everyone who's getting one! ~E

 Emotionally spent, Tareena heaved one last sob and then quieted. She
  gently wiped her face with her sleeve, forcing herself to look up into his
  eyes. Feeling embarrassment creep across her face, she started to pull out
  of his arms. "No, don't feel that way Tareena. It's okay, I understand. "
  These words seemed to fill the void she had felt being created inside of her.
  She had purged herself of the pain and anger and was now filling, not with
  insecurity and loneliness, but with peace and understanding. Genuine
  affection rose up within her for this man in black who had taken the time to
  come and find her. Some of it must have transferred itself through the bond
  because at that moment he clasped her to him and buried his face in her hair.

 
  Stevan's eyes flickered as he slowly entered back into into the realm of
  consciousness. Kneeling over him was Andraia, her face looking concerned.
  "What happened?" he murmured, as he closed his eyes once more, exhausted.

  "You were fighting the tree, and it picked you up and you fell unconscious.
  Luckily for you we destroyed the tree before it could do you or Tareena any
  more damage." Andraia's voice was cold and stern, but he could sense anger in
  it, anger out of concern for him, concern because he put himself in danger.

  "How...how destroy?"

  "Mura'shar came up with a plan to suck the moisture out of the tree, and
  thankfully it worked." It was Andraia's voice once more, and he murmured in
  acknowledgement that he had heard what she had said. Then her voice changed
  and became softer. "You relax now while Ariana heals you."

  Stevan once more opened his eyes, but this time he raised his head and he
  could see Ariana standing beside him, and the girl, Scree, watching curiously
  from behind Ariana. Then he let his head drop to the floor and his eyes close
  in a state of calm
  peace...and then he gasped as the Healing weaves of saidar overcame him.
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  -------------------------------------------
 

  Stevan should be fine after this to go and continue with the mission. Someone
  drive us onwards!

  Steve
  <><

 Duratan snapped to attention as his superior walked over. He only relaxed after
  Mura'shar told them that they should spend some time under the branches of the
  tree.
  He did not want to leave the pretty young woman alone since she seemed to be
  exhausted from the battle, but she agreed to go over to Avendesora.
  Myiona stood up slowly. "If the room would stop spinning," she said with a
  smile, "it would be easier to walk."
  Duratan offered her his arm and said, "I would be honored to escort such a
  lovely lady across to the tree."

 "I would be honored to escort such a lovely lady across to the tree."
  Mura'shar couldn't believe it. Duratan certainly had a lot of audacity
  to hit on his bondmate in front of him! As Duratan took one of Myiona's
  arms. Mura'shar took the other.
  "My lady Dragonsworn, please allow your Asha'man to guide you to the tree
  as well" He shot a meaningful look at Duratan, who didn't seem to notice.
  Myiona certainly noticed. Despite her tired eyes, she managed a smirk
  and grasped both men's arms and murmured "My, all these nice young men here
  to offer me assistance. How will repay you?" The affect was slightly
  spoiled by the yawn she could no longer suppress.
  Mura'shar hoped the grinding of his teeth wasn't too loud. How foolish
  to be jealous of a Soldier? But as they reached the Avendesora, his mind
  drifted back into calmness and peace. Myiona's face softened in contentment
  and her head lowered. Mura'shar and Duratan lowered her to the ground and
  made sure she was comfortable among the roots of the tree.
  As he straightened up Mura'shar spotted something lying on the ground.
  He picked it up and saw it was the paper Xyranthes was translating earlier.
  It was speckled with mud, but still readable, he hoped. The aura of fear was
  gone.
  Forgetting about Duratan for the moment , he started searching for
  Xyranthes to see if he cold finish reading what the paper said.

  _____________________________

  OOC just what Myiona always wanted, a jealous bondmate, right?

  Jake
  Marked Asha'man

 
  The effort of channeling and linking so many times within the last few hours
  had finally taken their toll on Xyranthes. Once he had found that the two
  tree captives would be fine, Xyranthes visibly relaxes. Leaning heavily on
  his staff, the old noblemen rests quietly beneath the Avendesora, perusing
  the list, and taking notes.
  "Fascinating ... interesting ... curious..." and a tumble of other mutterings
  can be heard by those nearby. Apparently absorbed in the parchment, the old
  man begins to touch the list, moving his fingers over it. With his right hand
  protectively holding the list, the Cairheinian rummages about in his left
  coat pocket, and draws out a small notebook. Flipping the notebook open,
  Xyranthes begins to flip though his personal notes, comparing the information
  he is gleaming with his previous notations on various subjects.
  Sliding down the base of the tree, nestling himself between two large root
  clusters, he begins to pull still more books from pockets and pouches. Soon
  an ink pot and quill join in the pile of papers.

  (OOC) Hmm, yet another post where I do nothing but read, if only life
  imitated RP's. : )
  Peter
  <><

 Myiona was pleased that Mura'shar was jealous, and she did not mind the
  attention of the other man. As Mura'shar walked away, after helping her
  find a comfortable spot under the tree, she looked up and Duratan and
  smiled.
  "You can sit here beside me," she said softly patting the ground.
  "Since you are fairly new to the tower perhaps I should try to be extra
  friendly to you."
  The young soldier sat down and smiled. "I am Duratan," he said
  introducing himself. "I appreciate your kindness, but before I get myself
  in trouble I need to know something."
  "What might that be?" she asked turning to look at him.
  "Are you bonded to Mura'shar, the Baijan'm'hael?" he asked looking
  around anxiously?
  "Why yes I am," Myiona answered touching his hand lightly. "Does that
  bother you?"

 Alcinia walked over to the tree and touched the bark tenderly. She had always
  had a fondness for trees and this one was a legend. She leaned her face against
  the tree and let the peace and energy flow into her body.
  She hoped no one would think it scandalous, but she had to climb it. It was
  something she would always remember. She climbed the tree and sat upon one of
  the branches. Below, she could see Myiona flirting with one of the new
  soldiers. Grinning, Alcinia pulled a small diamond from her pocket and dropped
  it into Myiona's lap.
  The look of surprise on the First Dragonsworn's face was worth the cost of the
  stone. Alcinia smiled and watched to see what would happen next.

 

  The group traveled once more through the portal, leaving behind the pale
  blue timeless sky. They wandered through the muck of their battle with the
  Centaurs and through the Senate Chamber, out once more onto the square in the
  center of the town.
  The Avensedora had asked that the Black Tower find a way to help their
  mad brothers and sisters. Scouts had been sent and the war council had tried
  to persuade the leaders to follow them back to the Tower, but to no avail.
  They wanted to stay where they were, at all costs. Ariana had administered
  the tea made from the bark of the tree, allowing the madmen their first
  moments of lucidness.
  Stevan ordered everyone to be packed and ready at first light. They
  were going home. Tareena walked the grounds of the city, trying to picture
  in her mind the people and places that she had seen in her memories in the
  tree. Gala balls, flying machines, stairs that moved, all came alive in her
  mind. She traveled the streets, paying homage to what had been. As she
  passed a doorway, she noticed a strange symbol carved in the stone above the
  doorway. She passed under it, into a vast room. At one end stood what
  appeared to be an altar. Sconces were placed high on the walls behind the
  altar, once proudly baring the light of the room. Upon the altar itself
  stood many smaller candles and little bells. Something drew her closer,
  wanted her to see what it held for her. Using the power, she lit the many
  candles, immediately feeling the joyful seduction of Saidar. Kneeling, she
  began to contemplate her life to this point, where she had been, where she
  wanted to go. She let herself drift through time, allowing herself to
  finally remember her family, not in nightmares when sleep presses down upon
  your awareness, but in full light of reality. She gave herself permission to
  morn her sister, who even now wears the hated collar of the Damane. Her
  father, tired and worn from toiling long hours on the farm, but happy with
  his life. Her beautiful mother, who blamed herself for having daughters
  instead of sons. Finally she wept, as she had wept for strangers in a city
  but had never been able to do for those close to her. Walls that she had
  toiled to build, invisible brick by brick, came tumbling down, never to be
  felt again as a heaviness in her heart. She was free.
  Time had no meaning, at the altar with the light illuminating her
  features. Tareena worshiped the light, feeling it growing powerful within
  her, chasing the darkness from her past and forcing it to turn its tail and
  run, like a dog who disobeyed its master. She laughed out loud, feeling like
  a young girl, about to discover life for the first time.
  Tareena awoke, stretching and yawning. The candles had long since burnt
  down, the darkness once again claiming the light, but only until the dawn
  came to turn it away. With a smile, she remembered her evening spent. She
  knew she needed to get back to the others. It would be light soon and time
  to leave. As she turned to leave she felt something fall from above onto her
  arm. Brushing away the dust, she dismissed it as the building decaying.
  Until another piece and then another fell, more and more, covering her hair
  and her outer clothing. Suddenly the floor trembled and then began to shake
  in earnest. Making her way across the room, she dodged debris and finally
  made it to the doorway. She looked out onto chaos. Walls of buildings that
  had stood rock solid were now beginning to fall over, driven from the force
  of the shaking. Her mind understood what her eyes could not. Earthquake!
  She ran through the twisting and turning streets, trying to reach the
  center, stumbling, thrown off balance, red blood seeping through the
  abrasions on her knees. She ran and ran, fear making her move faster than
  she thought herself capable. She burst into the center, almost crying out in
  her feverish need to find her friends. Doubled over she took great heaving
  breaths, trying to orient herself to her surroundings. In the middle she saw
  that a gateway had been erected and the group was moving through it in turns.
  Stevan was standing off to the side arguing once more with the leader of the
  madmen, futilely attempting to reason with a mind that had been set along
  this path years before this time. Tareena wondered if the Avensedora could
  understand that in allowing them their choice, they were being saved.
  Darren came running up to her, fear and anger rolling off of him in
  waves, crashing through the bond. "Where have you been?" he roared, while
  simultaneously picking her up in a bear hug. "Taking care of some old
  business" she replied, hugging him back just as fiercely.
  As their turn came to enter the gate, she turned around to look once
  more at the city, her mind seeing it in all of its glory. "Goodbye", she
  whispered. "Thank you."
  As the gate closed behind them, she saw the destruction, felt the souls of
  her brothers and sisters soar towards the light, free at last, and she felt
  no sorrow.
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  ---------------------------------------------
  I'm sorry if someone else had a different idea on how they wanted this RP to
  end, this just made sense to me, somehow. Of course, my sense of sense may
  be a little whacky but hey, at least I gave it a whirl ::grins::: I say we
  get back to the tower and have a huge celebration! I need a drink after this
  one!

  Lisa

 So that was that, they where to leave again, and soon. Steven wished to
  return to the Black tower at dawn, and the sun was approaching fast.
  Xyranthes franticly tried to stuff as many books and oddities into his ever
  present folding crates, and bags, and sacks, and anything else he could grab.
  One of the madmen had seen him toiling with one of the crates, and had tried
  to block the old nobleman. Madman and Bibliophile stood across from one
  another, their stares spanning the distance. Finally madness gave way to
  obsession, and the old Cairheinian claimed his trophy. Elated, Xyranthes
  struggled to drag his books to the gateway, only to fall as the ground shook
  beneath him. Building, once proud and strong, now folded into themselves,
  vanishing into clouds of ash and dust. A soldier ran past Xyranthes, trying
  to reach the gateway. Grabbing the man by his cuff, Xyranthes stopped his
  flight. "First grab a crate, then go through." Nodding, the soldier stooped
  and grabbed the crate Xyranthes had been carrying, and disappeared into the
  gateway. Picking up another crate, Xyranthes turned to go through the gateway
  himself, and then stopped. Craning his head over another crate of books, old
  man locked eyes with young girl. The child the Black Tower had rescued from
  the crazed village. Her fear Filled face looked into his, and silently
  pleaded to come along. In same fashion, the invitation was made, and youth
  and age left the southern continent together.

  Peter
  <><

 "I don't care if she decides to turn to the Dark One himself as a result," he
  said just before stomping out of Janara's room at the Black Tower, "I am not
  going to be responsible for the death of a baby before it even has a chance in
  this light forsaken world! She is done with active duty - period."
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  ----------

  "Janara, Janara..." La'rece's voice whispered in Janara's mind.
  "She's out cold," another voice said.
  "She's going to...?"
  "Yes, we think so, anyway. Don't know if she's going to come out of it but
  she has a good chance. I think we can at least keep her alive long enough so
  that the baby will be along enough so we can do something to save it."
  "Do something? What do you mean by 'do something'?" La'rece asked.
  Silence.
  Someone stamped her/his foot. "Janara! Wake up this instant!"
  "Can you feel anything through the bond?"
  "It feels like I'm linked to something but I don't feel any emotions.
  There's something distant though... What?"
  "She was burned bad. She shouldn't have even survived long enough for you and
  Ivan to bring her here. How did the other members of the Black Tower do after
  you left? Have you heard any news?"
  "Who cares?!"
  "I know this is difficult..."
  "Like the Dark One's red eyes you do! What do you know of it?!"
  "I've seen others..."
  "Seen others what?!"
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  ----------
  There was whispering. Soft female voices. They sounded familiar.
  "She was such a stiffy anyway..."
  "Who would have guessed she even knew how..."
  "I bet it was Ivan, and under La'rece's nose too..."
  "No, I know who it was..."
  "Oh do tell, do tell..."
  "It was your man."
  Silence. Slap. Laughter.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  ----------
  There were hands poking her. Cold fingers. Voices. Janara thought she felt
  the touch of the power probe her body.
  "Amazing..." It was a familiar voice. Janara thought she knew this woman,
  she had been a Yellow at the White Tower of some repute. "Amazing, it's like the
  fetus is keeping her alive as opposed to the other way around. "
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  ----------
  Warmth. The sound of a heart pumping. Something tickled her mind. She thought
  of her father. Her father's image appeared in Janara's mind. "Come back to me,"
  he said. His eyes were like hot blood. They were the larva red and steaming,
  waiting for her to be pushed in. It was not her father's voice. "Come back to
  me and live.
  Come back to me and your baby shall live. This is my offer. My promise, - fail
  me again and die."
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  ---------

  Janara Dragonsworn
  Bondmate to La'rece and Ivan

  OCC: ok, I'm leaving. I'm getting ready for moving, school, etc. and just don't
  have time. I left it open about what happens so my other bondmates or others
  can decide if they want. I may come back later - either as Janara or a
  different character depending.
  Take me off the list for now.

  -Valerie

 Luthar booted the horse to a trot, it happened been a year, yet it still
  continued. He still ran, always running, never turning back to face it.
  Someone would say he was running away from destiny, yet destiny had its ways
  and the irony of the situation would bring many a laugh from Luthar in the
  future. Luthar knew not but head lie the Black Tower in all its glory, the
  farm.
  Luthar was running from channeling or so he thought. Channeling had
  unexpected come on him during his last "mission." He ran from the place
  thinking he could escape, yet to no avail he couldn't thus resorted to
  isolation, trying to control the desire, to steady the fear.
  Thus Luthar found himself on the road to some farm. Luthar had the feeling
  someone was watching him. Sweat and grime covered him, yet he went on and
  coming to a halt near the "farm," he said to one man who stood nearby, "Sir,
  I am just a traveler could I please have some food and water and a bed for
  the night?"

  OOC: not my best, but I just wanted to put something out there
  ~Ed
  Luthar Dartheon
  "I always get my mark, hehe"

 Ariana watched as the members of the Black Tower began to send packs, crates,
  and other assorted storage objects through the gate, then filed through
  themselves. She watched as the ancient city, older than she could really try
  to comprehend, began to crumble around them and the once-mad channellers of
  this land left to resume hopefully normal lives. She watched the entire
  panorama of events, but she was really looking for one small detail- Skree.
  The child had somehow found a way into the solitary Healer's heart, and had
  followed her around as she made her way to healing her comrades, but had
  disappeared when the Healer told her to pack her things. Ariana watched as
  all the people entered the gate and disappeared, looking for one thin, short
  one among the rest. At length her searching eyes found what they sought;
  Skree and an older Asha'man entered the gate together while she watched. At
  that she breathed a sigh of relief- she hadn't been sure that the others
  would allow the child to come with them, but it seemed that they had. The
  Healer limped toward the gate, with many last looks at the crumbling city
  behind her. Absently she touched her pack, feeling the solid weight of the
  books and carefully wrapped objects she had stored there. It seemed all was
  in order. Sighing, she turned for one last look, and her eyes instinctively
  turned toward the building where she had found the precious tomes. She
  raised both hands, palms toward the spire of the building and fingers spread
  in a solemn gesture of respect. She saw its gleaming white top standing
  still, but soon it too wavered, shook, and gradually fell, as though it was
  fighting the destruction around it. Ariana resolved again to use the
  knowledge she had rescued from it to do the same, and gravely turned and
  limped into the gate, leaving the city of wonders behind.
  ~E
  "The Red Raccoon"

 Growing up in Shienar had taught Stevan a lot about evil. Ever since the War
  of the Shadow the Blight had been tainted by the presence of the Dark One.
  Therefore he had no problem imagining what had happened in this city.

  Listening to Tareena narrate her surreal experiences inside the tree, he
  nodded his head, understanding perfectly. Once the life of the city, when it
  became corrupted by the evil of the War of the Shadow, the city became death.
  The people turned on each other, and soon the only feet left on the streets
  were those of Shadowspawn, looking for more human carcasses to feed on.

  But that had ended. The evil surrounding the tree had been destroyed, and now
  the two members of the Black Tower were bathing in the light of the
  Avendesora. "So, it appears the evil of this tree not only corrupted the
  city, but corrupted its ter'angreal too...and we both know what happens to
  those who came into contact with those ter'angreal."

  Tareena nodded as Stevan drew his conclusion from her story, then she added,
  "And it was contact with these ter'angreal which caused the people from this
  area to go insane." It was Stevan's turn to agree with her, and he nodded
  too. But what of the other people in this strange land? Have they gone mad
  for similar reasons?
 
 

  "What does this land have to offer you? Your neighbours are madmen, as you
  once were! Come to the Black Tower - we can offer you training on how to use
  the One Power." Stevan grew angry as he argued with the leader of the Madmen,
  who seemed to deny all logic in his decision to stay where he was.

  "No, Asha'man. This land is our heritage. It is our duty to fight Tarmon
  Gaidon here, and help our brothers and sisters in this land. Your duty is to
  fight where you were born, it is our duty to fight where we were born." The
  Madman spoke in a sharp, exotic accent. "I wish you all the best in your
  battles. May the Light bless you."

  Stevan walked away dejected. He could understand what the Madman was saying
  in his heart, but his mind was still confused as to why he would reject the
  chance to come to the Black Tower. Stevan sighed, and walked through the
  gateway back to the Black Tower. Today a hard earned rest, tomorrow visit
  Tremalking...
 
 

  OOC: k, we're back at the Tower now. We're going to have a couple of weeks at
  the BT doing some character development etc. giving you a chance to update
  your bios :) Go on, think of some mini-plotlines between you and someone else
  in the Tower, enjoy yourselves - character interaction is probably my
  favourite part of RPing.
 
 

  Steve
  <><

 The first week back at the tower passed in a whirlwind of meetings,
  moving, and reaquaintences. While they were away, the Tower had managed to
  build most of the necessary additional space required for all of the existing
  members. Tareena was very pleased with her new quarters. Sharing a room at
  times could be fun but the thought of actually having her own private room
  was enough to make her feel very appreciated indeed. One of the first things
  she had done upon return was to soak in her tub for hours, burn her clothes
  from the trip, and have new ones made to order. The second was to attend
  debriefing meetings with the other members of the War council which were
  tedious at best. The third was to begin trying to meet all of the new female
  members of the tower and at least begin to initiate them to their duties.
  Bringing her mind back to the present, Tareena once again began
  assessing her class for their strengths and weaknesses. Currently, they were
  learning battle techniques. As a former battle trained Seanchan, Tareena had
  unique qualities alien to most of the sisters who had trained in the White
  Tower at one time. The white tower had taught them discipline and how to
  think. Tareena taught them how to fight.
  Dismissing the class after several words of encouragement she chose to
  leave out of the garden gate instead of heading back towards the tower. It
  was such a beautiful day, she couldn't resist once again going back to her
  favorite spot by the lake. She had not been there in a long time. For a
  moment, she hesitated, remembering her last visit to the lake. Eamon had
  surprised her there, at first smiling and showing a great deal of charm.
  Then it had changed to something else, something she couldn't quite put her
  finger on. A tendril of fear had crewed into her and she hastily began to
  make her way from the clearing. Eamon did not seem as though he was willing
  to let her leave but then Aramis had shown up, gallant as always, and had led
  her from the clearing. Shaking her head, she smiled. I am not going to let
  someone spoil my favorite place. I will go and enjoy it, as always.
  Entering the clearing, she once again felt its peace steal over her,
  offering in its simplicity the very thing she most needed. Laying down upon
  the grass, she felt herself begin to drift away to the sound of the water
  lapping gently against the bank. She was home and it was a good place to be.

 Being back at the tower, Ariana quickly decided, was a mixed blessing. She
  was extremely grateful to be out of woods and caves and strange places, but
  at the same time she would have liked to stay had the city not fallen. Oh,
  well, it's gone, so there's no going back. At least I don't have to limp any
  further than the bath or the conference room now. When she had first
  returned, she had barely realized how footsore and weary she was- until she
  sat down on her bed to rest and promptly fell asleep. She had wakened to
  find most of the night gone but feeling much better.
  Now, though, there were things to be done. Moving, for one; the recent
  expansion had shifted her quarters again. Ariana had packed her meager
  belongings- several books, spare clothing, and some packs of herbs that she
  hadn't taken with her, and had found her new place. Happily, there was only
  one flight of stairs to negotiate now, and there was more room, too. Not
  that she really needed it; she had little in the way of material things. Come
  s from spending half your life running, the Healer thought dryly, there's no
  time to grab stuff to take with you. Still, there was much to be done,
  starting with a decent cleaning. Dust and debris from the building were
  still present; a whisk of Air sent them out the window to land neatly in a
  pile by the path. There they would quickly be dispersed of by many feet.
  The furniture took much stronger flows, since she certainly couldn't move it
  herself. "Now I know why Cera chose such a great hulking Warder," she mused,
  laughing at the thought of her old classmate. As small as Ariana, her Warder
  could probably squash her into a ball and toss her fifty feet without
  breaking a sweat. When the furniture was settled, Ariana began emptying her
  packs from the trip. She most definitely did not want to see the dusty,
  abused packs again for a long time, so she tossed them into the back of the
  small closet. "Good riddance!" she called out after them.
  The packs' contents, spread out on the bed, required more careful handling.
  The little Dragon figure she set on her desk, a slight frown crossing her
  face as she wove a small flow into it and tied off the weave. Tiny wisps of
  flame now curled from the creature's open mouth. Given its setting, it
  seemed appropriate. The books, the precious, all-important books, went onto
  a shelf above her others, all of them on various topics relating to Healing.
  None of the others were in the Old Tongue, but she hoped her translating
  skills hadn't gotten rusty out of disuse. The rest of the stuff on the bed
  was the clothing from the trip. Grimacing, she almost tossed it into the
  closet with the packs, but decided that she had better deal with it now.
  Down the stairs she went, and into the nearest laundry room where she threw
  them into steaming hot water to soak. Hot water- I think I need some,
  myself. Smiling, the Healer went to soak her aches in the tub, an undeniable
  luxury after a long trip.
  ~Ariana Kantori
  Aes Sedai of the Yellow Ajah, and
  Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 
  It had only been a few moments since the insects had started to appear, but
  already they were making their presence known to everyone in the Tower.
  Fortunately, after a few weaves Rengar let out a sigh as the creatures began
  to sink back into the ground from what they had come.
  But the relief was short lived, as the insects resurfaced a few seconds
  later, looking even deadlier than they had before. Before he could begin to
  make his first weaves on of the bugs, looking something like a centipede
  except that it stood on it's hind legs, had already sliced his forearm open a
  bit, and Rengar bit back a yell of pain, kicking the insect across the floor.
  I always knew those football games we used to play in the village would come
  in handy one day, though I hardly could have imagined of a scenario like this,
  even as a child, Rengar thought to himself, sending a Fire dart towards the
  creature that had just injured him, leaving a burnt shell of what had been a
  fierce insectoid warrior lying on the ground.
  Within a few minutes the deadly bugs were destroyed, and after waiting for a
  few moments it seemed clear to Rengar and the others that the bugs would not
  be returning for a third outing. But now everyone seemed to be concerned with
  something entirely unrelated to the attack that they had just faced, and when
  Rengar realized that a large shadow has suddenly fallen on him he looked up.
  And that's when he caught his first glimpse of Avendesora.
  But it certainly did not look like the tree of legend, the one that he had
  often heard about from his mother as he would lie in his bed, begging her to
  tell him a story to close the day with. The creatures that had just attacked
  them seemed to have somehow drained most of the energy out from the Tree of
  Life, leaving a shell of what had used to be the most magnificent Tree in the
  history of the world.
  "Did your visions have anything to say about this?" Mura'shar asked, seeming
  to be just as interested in why Avendesora was here as Rengar was.
  "No, not a thing," Rengar replied, wishing that he had seen this tree in his
  dreamlike trance. At least it would lessen the amount of foreboding he was
  feeling at the moment, not knowing what to expect next, but still ready to
  expect the worst.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------
  Once Tareena had finished with her ordeal with the tree the city began to
  crumble all around, as if the evil in this place had been supporting these old
  buildings through the ages and had now left them without any reinforcement.
  In the midst of this destruction Rengar could only walk around the area where
  the other Asha'men were getting ready to leave through a gateway that had been
  created.
  He found Odessa standing off to the side, her arms wrapped around her body as
  if she were cold, though in fact this city had proved to Rengar that a
  Cairhien in the summer was nothing compared to the heat in some parts of this
  city.
  "What's the matter? Don't tell me your going to miss this place," Rengar
  said coyly, putting his hands on Odessa shoulders and turning her to face him.
  Rengar was surprised to see a look of...sadness, he thought, painted on her
  soft features. "Odessa, tell me what's wrong."
  "Oh, I just can't help thinking about the people who live here...do you think
  they'll finally be free of the grips of madness now?" Odessa said, looking up
  into his eyes with a look of both hope and pity that caught Rengar off guard.
  It took him a few moments to regain his composure, and even then he could only
  come up with,
  "I don't know Odessa. Personally, I hope so. Even after everything they put
  everyone through, I still hope that they can be freed of the madness. The
  women and children, at least," Rengar said, bowing his head down. I have to
  lighten the mood a bit here, Rengar thought to himself. After all, we did
  successfully complete the mission. "So, what do you what to do when we
  finally get back to the Tower? You decide this time."
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  -------------------------------------------
  Sorry about this short, pathetic excuse for an RP (especially given the time
  I've had), but I haven't been feeling all that well recently and I've decided
  to save the parts I missed in this RP for the next one. Feel free to continue
  where I left off, Jen; I know that you will come up with
  something...imaginative.
  Kyle

 Myiona looked up as the small diamond fell into her lap. "That
  couldn't have," she said before seeing the grinning face above her. "Nice
  joke Alcinia, but you should come down from there before anyone else sees
  you."
  The Mayene girl slid down the tree trunk with agility and skill. She
  glanced at the man by Myiona. She raised her eyebrows before turning to
  walk away.

  Back at the Black Tower, Myiona hurried to see her new quarters. She
  smiled at the small suite of rooms that were now given to her. Considering
  that her gold had funded it, she felt no guilt for the luxury. She quickly
  found and novitiate to care for her clothing while she soaked in a hot tub.
  She closed her eyes and relaxed, allowing the water to ease the aching
  of her muscles. She was almost asleep when a knock sounded at the door.
  "Who is it?" she asked in an irritate voice.

  Vicky
  aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
  Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 
  Darren sighed, somewhat disappointed. "Soldier, what did I just tell you to
  do?"
  The soldier tried to recall.
  Darren supplied the answer. "I told you, parry, not dodge! If you're
  leaping to the side, you can't slide in and strike."
  "But you have that other sword..."
  "Get back in line. You there."
  The next soldier stepped up, confident. "Sir."
  "Parry this blow so the others can see how it's done."
  Darren swung with his left hand. The soldier caught the tip of Darren's
  false blade near the hilt of his own, stopping it. He then slid in along
  the blade to counterattack too close to be blocked. Somewhat amused, Darren
  swung his right-arm sword, and the soldier ducked out of the way. He wasn't
  free, though, since Darren had already disengaged his left hand blade and
  gently put its tip below the soldier's chin.
  Nothing happened for a moment after the soldier realized that he was
  looking up Darren's practice sword. "Did I say counterattack?"
  "No, sir."
  "That may be the right spirit, but you should never attack a man with two
  sords without a good plan."
  "Then... why the line about being able to slide in and strike?"
  "Because that is why one parries, to maintain range. However, this is just
  a demonstration of _parrying_, not parrying and striking. Got it?"
  They resumed, demonstration, then the testing. The testing was to see which
  soldiers had aptitude or existing knowledge in sword-fighting. To this end,
  Darren had gotten a hold of a few Dedicated who could channel air and
  illusion and make swords appear and be felt. With practice, the Dedicated
  could swing enough identical swords in the same way for all of the
  soldiers. It was too early for these very new soldiers to be making attacks
  of their own - not, at least, until they had been sorted out into those who
  were competent and those who were not. Darren watched for a while. After a
  few minutes he had decided which soldiers belonged where.
  He halted the testing. Those that were too new to the weapon, he sent to
  train under the dedicated. Nine of them, he sent to train in the
  intermediate group. The remaining five he took himself. These actually knew
  something.
  While waiting for the others to go, Darren suddenly felt Tareena. Calm. So
  utterly calm. He pulled himself away, trying to decide how short he could
  cut this first session.
  Only a few minutes later, he had managed to get the training organized, but
  provide a break until the evening. Tareena was still there.
  He set off.
  ****

  Luke
  Darren Sadke
  Extremely budy but not so busy I can't slip in an RP on alternate weeks
  :(

 Mura'shar pulled on a pair of boots and sighed. They used to be his
  third-best pair of boots. Meaning they were his worst pair. But now they
  were his only pair. A boar got his first set, and giant bugs followed by a
  wave of fire destroyed his second pair. Mura'shar made a mental note to
  visit Caemlyn first thing tomorrow and see a cobbler.
  It was good to be home. His quarters seemed so much bigger now than when
  he left. Of course, at the time Myiona had been staying here while the
  bureaucratic mix-up that left her homeless was straightened out. He was glad
  she finally had a place of her own again. While it was never dull having her
  here, if they had stayed much longer together they would have either married
  or murdered each other.
  Mura'shar walked over to tone of the larger practice yards near the edge
  of the Black Tower. He was teaching a class on using the One Power as a
  weapon this morning. When he got there, he saw a small group of Soldiers
  already gathered there. Talking and laughing among themselves. They quickly
  came to attention as he approached.
  He began without preamble "Today you will learn how to strike at an enemy
  while he is still a distance away from you. If you can hit the enemy while
  he's too far out to reach you, the fight is already yours"
  He then provided a demonstration. He gestured to a group of straw
  dummies placed at varying distances from their position. He wove a simple
  weave of Fire, and one of the closer scarecrows burst into flame.
  "Unless your enemy has a bow, or can channel himself -or herself- you can
  kill or disable them with little risk to yourself. It may seem unfair, but
  if you are in combat, you have two choices: kill or die."
  The simple, matter-of-fact way in which he spoke sobered the newer
  Soldiers who had not yet been on a mission. The more experienced ones nodded
  thoughtfully.
  That last mission to the Land of the Madmen seemed like one long combat.
  Either against mad channelers, Shadowspawn, ancient traps, or the very forces
  of nature.
  Mura'shar scanned the crowd and saw a face he recognized. "Duratan" he
  called out as the man stepped forward. "Why don't you try the next target?"
  he gestured to one about twenty paces ahead. "Seize saidin, and destroy the
  scarecrow any way you can"

  Jake
  Marked Asha'man

 Sleep was ruined by a stiff pounding on the old oaken board that served
  as a door to his oom. Groping about for his glasses, which had come lose
  while he napped, Xyranthes assayed the damage he may have caused to the text
  he had been reading before falling asleep without realizing it. No drool
  stains, but the page had crumpled slightly, putting the elderly nobleman in a
  further annoyed state. Flinging the door open, the short man stared at the
  collarbone of a much larger, but no less scrawny man. No, not a man, a
  Dedicated, and from the looks of his pinched nose, and mousy eyes, one of the
  rodents from the Master of Room and Board.
  "Excuse me, Sir..." the dedicated began, but Xyranthes road over whatever
  else he may have said.
  "Ahh, at last, so the Master sent you over to see about my door did he,
  good, I wasn't expecting anyone to come over for at least another week or so,
  such a bother."
  Mouth agape for a moment, the young dedicated cleared his throat, and
  gratingly squalled out the rest of his sentence before he could be
  interrupted again.
  "You must be Xyranthes Demandredal, and no, I'm not here about the door,
  but the replacement will be deducted from your deposit once you have settled
  into your new quarters. You're being reassigned over to the old barn."
  "But ... but ... what about my books?" Xyranthes stuttered, shock mixing
  with his still sleepy mind from his long nap.
  Grinning as only a man who truly loves his work can, the pimply faced
  dedicated rummaged through his overstuffed bag, and pulled out a much
  crumpled, and badly battered notice of relocation, complete with the seal of
  the Master of Rooms and Boarding. The scrawny man snorted a laugh, sizing
  up the thin old man with glasses clutched in skeleton thin hands, figuring he
  would bully him into moving out right now, just as he had bullied other
  members of the Black Tower into doing just as he wanted them to do. They all
  had done what he wanted, they had no choice, because everybody knew that they
  would be in a worse position outside the boundary that made up the haven for
  male channelers from the outside world.
  "Look, it's not my job to make sure your precious books are happy. I'm
  the relocation assistant manager. Manager, hear? My job is to see that
  members of the Black Tower take what space we have available and live with
  it, or get out. You want a nice large mansion like you started out with back
  in Cairhein, go back there. If you don't like the rooms we got, blow. This is
  the Black tower, we don't have room for spoiled book worms."
  He droned on, in a high nasally pinched voice that grated on the nerves
  of all listeners. His manners where horrific, and rude.
  There was rudeness, plain old run of the mill rudeness, and then there
  was that special rudeness that separated the pencil pushers from the rest of
  the citizenry. That special rudeness, the dedicated knew, could not be
  learned. It was a gift.
  The dedicated had that gift. he was born with it, and he was a pro in his
  field. He knew how to make his evictees feel so miserable, so beaten, so
  helpless that they would not dare refuse anything he told them to do. Since
  he had begun his job six months ago compliance with the changing of rooms had
  gone up more than fifty percent. In another month, he would be manager of
  relocation and eviction. In another year he's be heading up the entire office
  of Housing.
  Xyranthes stared at the paper, fluttering in the boys hand as if it was
  some long dead carcass. Then he looked at the face of his adversary, and saw
  the vile grin, then the gaze fell back to the parchment. He had to think of
  something, he was not going to move, not ever again. He had just finished
  unpacking all the books from the fourth mission he had been sent on, and
  there where at lest three score more crates from a half dozen other missions
  yet to be sorted.
  The dedicated was nearly lost in his reverie when he noticed that the old
  man before him was speaking.
  "If you think..." Xyranthes began, vainly trying to think of someway to
  forestal the boy till a more opportune time, "that I am going to ... to...,"
  act confident, and don't give him an edge, "accept an eviction notice in such
  a sate of disrepair you have another thing coming." A plan was forming, now
  if the twit in front of him would only oblige him a little.
  "Ahh, Sir, you have no choice, and this isn't exactly an eviction notice,
  it's a relocation notice, and it clearly..."
  "I don't care if it's the long lost thirteenth volume of Laosta
  Terratuminus Mu I refuse to accept anything in such a state of disrepair. And
  you can tell that to Thoren himself.
  That's it, always use the first name of the boss, it makes it look like you
  have some special connection with the higher-ups. Xyranthes gleefully
  thought, and by the paling of the pasty face in front of him it was working.
  With a loud gulp, the dedicated opened his mouth to say something, but
  Xyranthes took hold of the conversation once again.
  "Now, run along and get me a clean, legible copy of that thing, and if
  there's one smudge of ink on it, Thoren will hear about this, mark my words,
  or I am not Lord Xyranthes of House Demandredal, Marked Asha'man of the Black
  Tower, Former commander of Haza Stormteam, and Master of books for all of the
  Black Tower."
  As he spoke his titles and positions, Xyranthes slipped in a small weave
  to help awe and frighten the pencil pusher in front of him. As he spoke each
  word, his old frail voice took on depth and sustenance, each word grew in
  power and volume till it boomed across the courtyard. And Xyranthes appeared
  to be growing in size with the words. Now gazing down at the pimply faced
  Bureaucrat, the nobleman from Cairhein pointed his index finger to the office
  of the master of Room and Board, and with a squeak, the dedicated scampered
  away. Letting out a sigh of relief, Xyranthes let the weave unravel, breaking
  the illusion. Now he had to figure out a way to put an end to this madness.

  Peter
  <><
 

  Luthar booted the horse to a trot, it happened been a year, yet it still
  continued. He still ran, always running, never turning back to face it.
  Someone would say he was running away from destiny, yet destiny had its ways
  and the irony of the situation would bring many a laugh from Luthar in the
  future. Luthar knew not but head lie the Black Tower in all its glory, the
  farm.
  Luthar was running from channeling or so he thought. Channeling had
  unexpected come on him during his last "mission." He ran from the place
  thinking he could escape, yet to no avail he couldn't thus resorted to
  isolation, trying to control the desire, to steady the fear.
  Thus Luthar found himself on the road to some farm. Luthar had the feeling
  someone was watching him. Sweat and grime covered him, yet he went on and
  coming to a halt near the "farm," he said to one man who stood nearby, "Sir,
  I am just a traveler could I please have some food and water and a bed for
  the night?"

  OOC: not my best, but I just wanted to put something out there
  ~Ed
  Luthar Dartheon
  "I always get my mark, hehe"
 
 Ariana watched as the members of the Black Tower began to send packs, crates,
  and other assorted storage objects through the gate, then filed through
  themselves. She watched as the ancient city, older than she could really try
  to comprehend, began to crumble around them and the once-mad channellers of
  this land left to resume hopefully normal lives. She watched the entire
  panorama of events, but she was really looking for one small detail- Skree.
  The child had somehow found a way into the solitary Healer's heart, and had
  followed her around as she made her way to healing her comrades, but had
  disappeared when the Healer told her to pack her things. Ariana watched as
  all the people entered the gate and disappeared, looking for one thin, short
  one among the rest. At length her searching eyes found what they sought;
  Skree and an older Asha'man entered the gate together while she watched. At
  that she breathed a sigh of relief- she hadn't been sure that the others
  would allow the child to come with them, but it seemed that they had. The
  Healer limped toward the gate, with many last looks at the crumbling city
  behind her. Absently she touched her pack, feeling the solid weight of the
  books and carefully wrapped objects she had stored there. It seemed all was
  in order. Sighing, she turned for one last look, and her eyes instinctively
  turned toward the building where she had found the precious tomes. She
  raised both hands, palms toward the spire of the building and fingers spread
  in a solemn gesture of respect. She saw its gleaming white top standing
  still, but soon it too wavered, shook, and gradually fell, as though it was
  fighting the destruction around it. Ariana resolved again to use the
  knowledge she had rescued from it to do the same, and gravely turned and
  limped into the gate, leaving the city of wonders behind.
  ~E
  "The Red Raccoon"

 Growing up in Shienar had taught Stevan a lot about evil. Ever since the War
  of the Shadow the Blight had been tainted by the presence of the Dark One.
  Therefore he had no problem imagining what had happened in this city.

  Listening to Tareena narrate her surreal experiences inside the tree, he
  nodded his head, understanding perfectly. Once the life of the city, when it
  became corrupted by the evil of the War of the Shadow, the city became death.
  The people turned on each other, and soon the only feet left on the streets
  were those of Shadowspawn, looking for more human carcasses to feed on.

  But that had ended. The evil surrounding the tree had been destroyed, and now
  the two members of the Black Tower were bathing in the light of the
  Avendesora. "So, it appears the evil of this tree not only corrupted the
  city, but corrupted its ter'angreal too...and we both know what happens to
  those who came into contact with those ter'angreal."

  Tareena nodded as Stevan drew his conclusion from her story, then she added,
  "And it was contact with these ter'angreal which caused the people from this
  area to go insane." It was Stevan's turn to agree with her, and he nodded
  too. But what of the other people in this strange land? Have they gone mad
  for similar reasons?
 
 

  "What does this land have to offer you? Your neighbours are madmen, as you
  once were! Come to the Black Tower - we can offer you training on how to use
  the One Power." Stevan grew angry as he argued with the leader of the Madmen,
  who seemed to deny all logic in his decision to stay where he was.

  "No, Asha'man. This land is our heritage. It is our duty to fight Tarmon
  Gaidon here, and help our brothers and sisters in this land. Your duty is to
  fight where you were born, it is our duty to fight where we were born." The
  Madman spoke in a sharp, exotic accent. "I wish you all the best in your
  battles. May the Light bless you."

  Stevan walked away dejected. He could understand what the Madman was saying
  in his heart, but his mind was still confused as to why he would reject the
  chance to come to the Black Tower. Stevan sighed, and walked through the
  gateway back to the Black Tower. Today a hard earned rest, tomorrow visit
  Tremalking...
 
 

  OOC: k, we're back at the Tower now. We're going to have a couple of weeks at
  the BT doing some character development etc. giving you a chance to update
  your bios :) Go on, think of some mini-plotlines between you and someone else
  in the Tower, enjoy yourselves - character interaction is probably my
  favourite part of RPing.
 
 

  Steve
  <><

 
 

  The first week back at the tower passed in a whirlwind of meetings,
  moving, and reaquaintences. While they were away, the Tower had managed to
  build most of the necessary additional space required for all of the existing
  members. Tareena was very pleased with her new quarters. Sharing a room at
  times could be fun but the thought of actually having her own private room
  was enough to make her feel very appreciated indeed. One of the first things
  she had done upon return was to soak in her tub for hours, burn her clothes
  from the trip, and have new ones made to order. The second was to attend
  debriefing meetings with the other members of the War council which were
  tedious at best. The third was to begin trying to meet all of the new female
  members of the tower and at least begin to initiate them to their duties.
  Bringing her mind back to the present, Tareena once again began
  assessing her class for their strengths and weaknesses. Currently, they were
  learning battle techniques. As a former battle trained Seanchan, Tareena had
  unique qualities alien to most of the sisters who had trained in the White
  Tower at one time. The white tower had taught them discipline and how to
  think. Tareena taught them how to fight.
  Dismissing the class after several words of encouragement she chose to
  leave out of the garden gate instead of heading back towards the tower. It
  was such a beautiful day, she couldn't resist once again going back to her
  favorite spot by the lake. She had not been there in a long time. For a
  moment, she hesitated, remembering her last visit to the lake. Eamon had
  surprised her there, at first smiling and showing a great deal of charm.
  Then it had changed to something else, something she couldn't quite put her
  finger on. A tendril of fear had crewed into her and she hastily began to
  make her way from the clearing. Eamon did not seem as though he was willing
  to let her leave but then Aramis had shown up, gallant as always, and had led
  her from the clearing. Shaking her head, she smiled. I am not going to let
  someone spoil my favorite place. I will go and enjoy it, as always.
  Entering the clearing, she once again felt its peace steal over her,
  offering in its simplicity the very thing she most needed. Laying down upon
  the grass, she felt herself begin to drift away to the sound of the water
  lapping gently against the bank. She was home and it was a good place to be.

 Being back at the tower, Ariana quickly decided, was a mixed blessing. She
  was extremely grateful to be out of woods and caves and strange places, but
  at the same time she would have liked to stay had the city not fallen. Oh,
  well, it's gone, so there's no going back. At least I don't have to limp any
  further than the bath or the conference room now. When she had first
  returned, she had barely realized how footsore and weary she was- until she
  sat down on her bed to rest and promptly fell asleep. She had wakened to
  find most of the night gone but feeling much better.
  Now, though, there were things to be done. Moving, for one; the recent
  expansion had shifted her quarters again. Ariana had packed her meager
  belongings- several books, spare clothing, and some packs of herbs that she
  hadn't taken with her, and had found her new place. Happily, there was only
  one flight of stairs to negotiate now, and there was more room, too. Not
  that she really needed it; she had little in the way of material things. Come
  s from spending half your life running, the Healer thought dryly, there's no
  time to grab stuff to take with you. Still, there was much to be done,
  starting with a decent cleaning. Dust and debris from the building were
  still present; a whisk of Air sent them out the window to land neatly in a
  pile by the path. There they would quickly be dispersed of by many feet.
  The furniture took much stronger flows, since she certainly couldn't move it
  herself. "Now I know why Cera chose such a great hulking Warder," she mused,
  laughing at the thought of her old classmate. As small as Ariana, her Warder
  could probably squash her into a ball and toss her fifty feet without
  breaking a sweat. When the furniture was settled, Ariana began emptying her
  packs from the trip. She most definitely did not want to see the dusty,
  abused packs again for a long time, so she tossed them into the back of the
  small closet. "Good riddance!" she called out after them.
  The packs' contents, spread out on the bed, required more careful handling.
  The little Dragon figure she set on her desk, a slight frown crossing her
  face as she wove a small flow into it and tied off the weave. Tiny wisps of
  flame now curled from the creature's open mouth. Given its setting, it
  seemed appropriate. The books, the precious, all-important books, went onto
  a shelf above her others, all of them on various topics relating to Healing.
  None of the others were in the Old Tongue, but she hoped her translating
  skills hadn't gotten rusty out of disuse. The rest of the stuff on the bed
  was the clothing from the trip. Grimacing, she almost tossed it into the
  closet with the packs, but decided that she had better deal with it now.
  Down the stairs she went, and into the nearest laundry room where she threw
  them into steaming hot water to soak. Hot water- I think I need some,
  myself. Smiling, the Healer went to soak her aches in the tub, an undeniable
  luxury after a long trip.
  ~Ariana Kantori
  Aes Sedai of the Yellow Ajah, and
  Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 
  It had only been a few moments since the insects had started to appear, but
  already they were making their presence known to everyone in the Tower.
  Fortunately, after a few weaves Rengar let out a sigh as the creatures began
  to sink back into the ground from what they had come.
  But the relief was short lived, as the insects resurfaced a few seconds
  later, looking even deadlier than they had before. Before he could begin to
  make his first weaves on of the bugs, looking something like a centipede
  except that it stood on it's hind legs, had already sliced his forearm open a
  bit, and Rengar bit back a yell of pain, kicking the insect across the floor.
  I always knew those football games we used to play in the village would come
  in handy one day, though I hardly could have imagined of a scenario like this,
  even as a child, Rengar thought to himself, sending a Fire dart towards the
  creature that had just injured him, leaving a burnt shell of what had been a
  fierce insectoid warrior lying on the ground.
  Within a few minutes the deadly bugs were destroyed, and after waiting for a
  few moments it seemed clear to Rengar and the others that the bugs would not
  be returning for a third outing. But now everyone seemed to be concerned with
  something entirely unrelated to the attack that they had just faced, and when
  Rengar realized that a large shadow has suddenly fallen on him he looked up.
  And that's when he caught his first glimpse of Avendesora.
  But it certainly did not look like the tree of legend, the one that he had
  often heard about from his mother as he would lie in his bed, begging her to
  tell him a story to close the day with. The creatures that had just attacked
  them seemed to have somehow drained most of the energy out from the Tree of
  Life, leaving a shell of what had used to be the most magnificent Tree in the
  history of the world.
  "Did your visions have anything to say about this?" Mura'shar asked, seeming
  to be just as interested in why Avendesora was here as Rengar was.
  "No, not a thing," Rengar replied, wishing that he had seen this tree in his
  dreamlike trance. At least it would lessen the amount of foreboding he was
  feeling at the moment, not knowing what to expect next, but still ready to
  expect the worst.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------
  Once Tareena had finished with her ordeal with the tree the city began to
  crumble all around, as if the evil in this place had been supporting these old
  buildings through the ages and had now left them without any reinforcement.
  In the midst of this destruction Rengar could only walk around the area where
  the other Asha'men were getting ready to leave through a gateway that had been
  created.
  He found Odessa standing off to the side, her arms wrapped around her body as
  if she were cold, though in fact this city had proved to Rengar that a
  Cairhien in the summer was nothing compared to the heat in some parts of this
  city.
  "What's the matter? Don't tell me your going to miss this place," Rengar
  said coyly, putting his hands on Odessa shoulders and turning her to face him.
  Rengar was surprised to see a look of...sadness, he thought, painted on her
  soft features. "Odessa, tell me what's wrong."
  "Oh, I just can't help thinking about the people who live here...do you think
  they'll finally be free of the grips of madness now?" Odessa said, looking up
  into his eyes with a look of both hope and pity that caught Rengar off guard.
  It took him a few moments to regain his composure, and even then he could only
  come up with,
  "I don't know Odessa. Personally, I hope so. Even after everything they put
  everyone through, I still hope that they can be freed of the madness. The
  women and children, at least," Rengar said, bowing his head down. I have to
  lighten the mood a bit here, Rengar thought to himself. After all, we did
  successfully complete the mission. "So, what do you what to do when we
  finally get back to the Tower? You decide this time."
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  -------------------------------------------
  Sorry about this short, pathetic excuse for an RP (especially given the time
  I've had), but I haven't been feeling all that well recently and I've decided
  to save the parts I missed in this RP for the next one. Feel free to continue
  where I left off, Jen; I know that you will come up with
  something...imaginative.
  Kyle

 Myiona looked up as the small diamond fell into her lap. "That
  couldn't have," she said before seeing the grinning face above her. "Nice
  joke Alcinia, but you should come down from there before anyone else sees
  you."
  The Mayene girl slid down the tree trunk with agility and skill. She
  glanced at the man by Myiona. She raised her eyebrows before turning to
  walk away.

  Back at the Black Tower, Myiona hurried to see her new quarters. She
  smiled at the small suite of rooms that were now given to her. Considering
  that her gold had funded it, she felt no guilt for the luxury. She quickly
  found and novitiate to care for her clothing while she soaked in a hot tub.
  She closed her eyes and relaxed, allowing the water to ease the aching
  of her muscles. She was almost asleep when a knock sounded at the door.
  "Who is it?" she asked in an irritate voice.

  Vicky
  aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
  Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower

 Darren sighed, somewhat disappointed. "Soldier, what did I just tell you to
  do?"
  The soldier tried to recall.
  Darren supplied the answer. "I told you, parry, not dodge! If you're
  leaping to the side, you can't slide in and strike."
  "But you have that other sword..."
  "Get back in line. You there."
  The next soldier stepped up, confident. "Sir."
  "Parry this blow so the others can see how it's done."
  Darren swung with his left hand. The soldier caught the tip of Darren's
  false blade near the hilt of his own, stopping it. He then slid in along
  the blade to counterattack too close to be blocked. Somewhat amused, Darren
  swung his right-arm sword, and the soldier ducked out of the way. He wasn't
  free, though, since Darren had already disengaged his left hand blade and
  gently put its tip below the soldier's chin.
  Nothing happened for a moment after the soldier realized that he was
  looking up Darren's practice sword. "Did I say counterattack?"
  "No, sir."
  "That may be the right spirit, but you should never attack a man with two
  sords without a good plan."
  "Then... why the line about being able to slide in and strike?"
  "Because that is why one parries, to maintain range. However, this is just
  a demonstration of _parrying_, not parrying and striking. Got it?"
  They resumed, demonstration, then the testing. The testing was to see which
  soldiers had aptitude or existing knowledge in sword-fighting. To this end,
  Darren had gotten a hold of a few Dedicated who could channel air and
  illusion and make swords appear and be felt. With practice, the Dedicated
  could swing enough identical swords in the same way for all of the
  soldiers. It was too early for these very new soldiers to be making attacks
  of their own - not, at least, until they had been sorted out into those who
  were competent and those who were not. Darren watched for a while. After a
  few minutes he had decided which soldiers belonged where.
  He halted the testing. Those that were too new to the weapon, he sent to
  train under the dedicated. Nine of them, he sent to train in the
  intermediate group. The remaining five he took himself. These actually knew
  something.
  While waiting for the others to go, Darren suddenly felt Tareena. Calm. So
  utterly calm. He pulled himself away, trying to decide how short he could
  cut this first session.
  Only a few minutes later, he had managed to get the training organized, but
  provide a break until the evening. Tareena was still there.
  He set off.
  ****

  Luke
  Darren Sadke
  Extremely budy but not so busy I can't slip in an RP on alternate weeks
  :(

 Mura'shar pulled on a pair of boots and sighed. They used to be his
  third-best pair of boots. Meaning they were his worst pair. But now they
  were his only pair. A boar got his first set, and giant bugs followed by a
  wave of fire destroyed his second pair. Mura'shar made a mental note to
  visit Caemlyn first thing tomorrow and see a cobbler.
  It was good to be home. His quarters seemed so much bigger now than when
  he left. Of course, at the time Myiona had been staying here while the
  bureaucratic mix-up that left her homeless was straightened out. He was glad
  she finally had a place of her own again. While it was never dull having her
  here, if they had stayed much longer together they would have either married
  or murdered each other.
  Mura'shar walked over to tone of the larger practice yards near the edge
  of the Black Tower. He was teaching a class on using the One Power as a
  weapon this morning. When he got there, he saw a small group of Soldiers
  already gathered there. Talking and laughing among themselves. They quickly
  came to attention as he approached.
  He began without preamble "Today you will learn how to strike at an enemy
  while he is still a distance away from you. If you can hit the enemy while
  he's too far out to reach you, the fight is already yours"
  He then provided a demonstration. He gestured to a group of straw
  dummies placed at varying distances from their position. He wove a simple
  weave of Fire, and one of the closer scarecrows burst into flame.
  "Unless your enemy has a bow, or can channel himself -or herself- you can
  kill or disable them with little risk to yourself. It may seem unfair, but
  if you are in combat, you have two choices: kill or die."
  The simple, matter-of-fact way in which he spoke sobered the newer
  Soldiers who had not yet been on a mission. The more experienced ones nodded
  thoughtfully.
  That last mission to the Land of the Madmen seemed like one long combat.
  Either against mad channelers, Shadowspawn, ancient traps, or the very forces
  of nature.
  Mura'shar scanned the crowd and saw a face he recognized. "Duratan" he
  called out as the man stepped forward. "Why don't you try the next target?"
  he gestured to one about twenty paces ahead. "Seize saidin, and destroy the
  scarecrow any way you can"

  Jake
  Marked Asha'man

 Sleep was ruined by a stiff pounding on the old oaken board that served
  as a door to his oom. Groping about for his glasses, which had come lose
  while he napped, Xyranthes assayed the damage he may have caused to the text
  he had been reading before falling asleep without realizing it. No drool
  stains, but the page had crumpled slightly, putting the elderly nobleman in a
  further annoyed state. Flinging the door open, the short man stared at the
  collarbone of a much larger, but no less scrawny man. No, not a man, a
  Dedicated, and from the looks of his pinched nose, and mousy eyes, one of the
  rodents from the Master of Room and Board.
  "Excuse me, Sir..." the dedicated began, but Xyranthes road over whatever
  else he may have said.
  "Ahh, at last, so the Master sent you over to see about my door did he,
  good, I wasn't expecting anyone to come over for at least another week or so,
  such a bother."
  Mouth agape for a moment, the young dedicated cleared his throat, and
  gratingly squalled out the rest of his sentence before he could be
  interrupted again.
  "You must be Xyranthes Demandredal, and no, I'm not here about the door,
  but the replacement will be deducted from your deposit once you have settled
  into your new quarters. You're being reassigned over to the old barn."
  "But ... but ... what about my books?" Xyranthes stuttered, shock mixing
  with his still sleepy mind from his long nap.
  Grinning as only a man who truly loves his work can, the pimply faced
  dedicated rummaged through his overstuffed bag, and pulled out a much
  crumpled, and badly battered notice of relocation, complete with the seal of
  the Master of Rooms and Boarding. The scrawny man snorted a laugh, sizing
  up the thin old man with glasses clutched in skeleton thin hands, figuring he
  would bully him into moving out right now, just as he had bullied other
  members of the Black Tower into doing just as he wanted them to do. They all
  had done what he wanted, they had no choice, because everybody knew that they
  would be in a worse position outside the boundary that made up the haven for
  male channelers from the outside world.
  "Look, it's not my job to make sure your precious books are happy. I'm
  the relocation assistant manager. Manager, hear? My job is to see that
  members of the Black Tower take what space we have available and live with
  it, or get out. You want a nice large mansion like you started out with back
  in Cairhein, go back there. If you don't like the rooms we got, blow. This is
  the Black tower, we don't have room for spoiled book worms."
  He droned on, in a high nasally pinched voice that grated on the nerves
  of all listeners. His manners where horrific, and rude.
  There was rudeness, plain old run of the mill rudeness, and then there
  was that special rudeness that separated the pencil pushers from the rest of
  the citizenry. That special rudeness, the dedicated knew, could not be
  learned. It was a gift.
  The dedicated had that gift. he was born with it, and he was a pro in his
  field. He knew how to make his evictees feel so miserable, so beaten, so
  helpless that they would not dare refuse anything he told them to do. Since
  he had begun his job six months ago compliance with the changing of rooms had
  gone up more than fifty percent. In another month, he would be manager of
  relocation and eviction. In another year he's be heading up the entire office
  of Housing.
  Xyranthes stared at the paper, fluttering in the boys hand as if it was
  some long dead carcass. Then he looked at the face of his adversary, and saw
  the vile grin, then the gaze fell back to the parchment. He had to think of
  something, he was not going to move, not ever again. He had just finished
  unpacking all the books from the fourth mission he had been sent on, and
  there where at lest three score more crates from a half dozen other missions
  yet to be sorted.
  The dedicated was nearly lost in his reverie when he noticed that the old
  man before him was speaking.
  "If you think..." Xyranthes began, vainly trying to think of someway to
  forestal the boy till a more opportune time, "that I am going to ... to...,"
  act confident, and don't give him an edge, "accept an eviction notice in such
  a sate of disrepair you have another thing coming." A plan was forming, now
  if the twit in front of him would only oblige him a little.
  "Ahh, Sir, you have no choice, and this isn't exactly an eviction notice,
  it's a relocation notice, and it clearly..."
  "I don't care if it's the long lost thirteenth volume of Laosta
  Terratuminus Mu I refuse to accept anything in such a state of disrepair. And
  you can tell that to Thoren himself.
  That's it, always use the first name of the boss, it makes it look like you
  have some special connection with the higher-ups. Xyranthes gleefully
  thought, and by the paling of the pasty face in front of him it was working.
  With a loud gulp, the dedicated opened his mouth to say something, but
  Xyranthes took hold of the conversation once again.
  "Now, run along and get me a clean, legible copy of that thing, and if
  there's one smudge of ink on it, Thoren will hear about this, mark my words,
  or I am not Lord Xyranthes of House Demandredal, Marked Asha'man of the Black
  Tower, Former commander of Haza Stormteam, and Master of books for all of the
  Black Tower."
  As he spoke his titles and positions, Xyranthes slipped in a small weave
  to help awe and frighten the pencil pusher in front of him. As he spoke each
  word, his old frail voice took on depth and sustenance, each word grew in
  power and volume till it boomed across the courtyard. And Xyranthes appeared
  to be growing in size with the words. Now gazing down at the pimply faced
  Bureaucrat, the nobleman from Cairhein pointed his index finger to the office
  of the master of Room and Board, and with a squeak, the dedicated scampered
  away. Letting out a sigh of relief, Xyranthes let the weave unravel, breaking
  the illusion. Now he had to figure out a way to put an end to this madness.

  Peter
  <><

 
  When she woke, Ariana decided that she'd had enough of being inside. She
  stood and left the building, but stopped at the end of the steps. "Now,
  where did they put my poor, abused horse?" she mused, for she had lost track
  of Tai'dari after he had been brought home from Tremalking and now she had no
  idea what stable he was in. Trekking around to all three didn't sound much
  like her idea of fun. Glancing around, she saw a tall, bony Dedicated
  clutching a very battered piece of paper and walking quickly toward one of
  the other buildings with a grumpy look on his face.
  "Excuse me," she began, only to receive a scornful glance down a long and
  pinched-looking nose. The towering messenger did not even bother to reply,
  but simply brushed off the petite Healer and hurried his step toward wherever
  he was headed. Caught off-guard, Ariana overbalanced and hit the dusty path.
  Anger rose; she would not be treated this way by an acne-plagued, asinine
  fool! "Dedicated!" she called sharply as she scrambled to her feet. He
  turned to look at her, his face expressionless except for a hint of...was it
  smugness?... in his piggish eyes. "Woman, I am late. I must return this to
  the Master of Housing and have it recopied, and I do not have time for-"
  Ariana, her eyes blazing, cut him off. "Rudeness is inexcusable, Dedicated.
  I-" then the idiot dared to interrupt her. "I do not have time to aid a
  crippled Tower reject," he informed her haughtily, still looking down that
  thin lumpy nose at her.
  The Healer lost all patience. She glared, and a weave of Fire sprang up,
  encircling him in a ring of flames. If he tried to pass, his precious paper
  would be burnt to a crisp. "I am neither crippled, nor one one of those cast
  out, Light burn you. You, in your discourteous haste, have just shoved
  Ariana Kantori, former Healer of the Yellow Ajah and now Marked Dragonsworn
  of the Black Tower, into the dust. I will have your apology." She waited,
  trying not to tap her foot impatiently. This lout was not worth the dirt he
  stood on! At the moment he was turning bright red, and for a moment she
  hoped that an apology might actually be coming. But no. "You are no
  Dragonsworn," he sneered, "and no Aes Sedai, either. I wager you're barely
  eighteen, and besides, I've never seen you around here before. And I'm in
  charge of all the room assignments, so I should know!" Ariana was actually
  speechless for a moment in rage, but at least he had given her a way to
  refute his words. She tossed her head and put on all the arrogance she could
  summon. "Two and twenty, base-born lout. A graduate of the White Tower and
  the Black, with the ring and bracelet to prove it." She displayed said
  pieces of jewelry. "As for my presence- I have not been here to be seen.
  Surely even you know that a stormteam arrived recently? I have been trekking
  through the Land of Madmen and ancient Lothier'en'aneril while you were here
  learning to find the Source."
  She dissolved her Fire- ring, most of her anger having passed. "By the way,
  where would the horses from that trip be?" Looking completely stunned, he
  managed to point toward a stable, then scurried off. Pleased to have gotten
  an answer from him, she turned on her heel and made for the distant building.
  The Dedicated went the other way, muttering angrily about nobles and still
  holding the ratty paper. Ariana's mood changed when she reached the barn,
  however, for her horse was nowhere to be seen. That arrogant,lying...
  Whitecloak! She applied the strongest insult she knew. Now she would have
  to go search all the barns anyway.

 It had been a miserable day, first the stupid old Cairheinian ruining his
  perfect record, and then the crippled hag who had tried to get in his way. It
  was inexcusable how far the Black Tower must have fallen, no wonder it needed
  people like him. Mortamer stopped just long enough in his hast to get his
  bearings. He had just darted away from the Tar Valon witch, and now couldn't
  figure out where he had ended up.
  "Great, just great, now where the bloody ashes am I?" He cried, crumpling the
  paper up in his hands as they shook with his inner fury. Looking to his left
  was the mess hall, so if he cut across the main square he would end up just
  behind the Housing office. Now if he could just avoid anyone else.
  Who would have thought that today, of all days, would be the beginning of the
  end for Mortamer Sneed's great rise to power. And the day had started out so
  well. The eviction of the orphaned children, whose parents had foolishly
  taken them to the Black Tower for fear they could channel, had gone so
  smoothly. The brats could hardly be useful, none could channel at so young an
  age, and the rooms they took up could be useful to the throngs of
  hopeful/fearful petitioners seeking the sanctuary of Rand Al'Thors famous
  proclamation calling for male channelers.
  Just as Sneed was working himself into another delusion of grander, someone
  else disturbed him.
  "What!" He snapped, whirling around.

  (Notes, Sneed is your run of the mill NPC jerk who need to be brought down a
  few dozen notches, so have fun everyone.)

  Peter
  <><

 Duratan was told to go to the practice yard for training. He quickly went
  outside and waited. He stood alone, ignoring the chatter of the other trainees,
  keeping his mind focused on the job at hand.
  He was momentarily distracted by a tingling sensation that told him a woman was
  channeling nearby. He did not notice Mura'shar approach until the group became
  quiet.
  Duratan listened attentively to the instructions given. He was surprised to be
  called upon first to try to use saidin to destroy the scarecrow. He thought
  about it for a moment and discarded the idea of using fire, since it had already
  been used. He tried to be creative using a blend of water, air, and spirit.
  The scarecrow seemed to swell and wiggle before it stiffened and exploded. A
  murmur ran through the crowd, but he did not hear it. Duratan had passed out
  from the effort of trying to control so much power at once.

 Mura'shar was impressed with Duratan's wrok. The flow was complex and he
  put quite a bit of saidin into it. What was it, some sort of ice attack?
  And what was the Spirit for?
  He wasn't sure he liked Duratan. He had a roving eye that Mura'shar's
  rigid sense of honor couldn't really condone especially when those eyes are
  on Myiona . But he had a creative streak and a lot of promise.
  He was about to congratulate Duratan when the soldier's eyes rolled up
  and he slumped to the ground. The rest of the soldiers backed away, more
  than a little nervous as Mura'shar checked him.
  A quick Delving revealed that he hadn't burned himself out or otherwise
  injured himself. He was just exhausted. Once Duratan had recovered a bit,
  Mura'shar ordered the class to continue.
  None of the others were as orginal in their attacks. Some made the
  ground erupt beneath the scarecrows. Others used blades or clubs of Air. A
  few used fire as Mura'shar had. HE finally ended the class by destroying the
  last three dummies with a column of Fire that turned into a flaming Dragon
  that devoured the scarecrows before vanishing.
  After the soldiers exclamations died down. Mura'shar told them:
  "Sometimesit's worth the extra burst of saidin to show the opponent something
  unexpected. It makes them doubt themselves and wonder at your capabilities.
  Then you can strike more effectively. "
  He dismissed the class except for Duratan. "Are you all right? Do you
  want to see a Healer?"
  "No. Thank you" replied Duratan. "My pride's hurt worse than anything
  else."
  Mura'shar grinned. "One lesson I hope you learn is to pace yourself. If
  you use up all your strength in the beginning of battle, well, your really in
  a cookpot aren't you?"
  He lowered his voice to a near whisper. "To tell the truth, though, I
  nearly passed out myself my first lesson here, and it was doing something a
  lot less comlpicated. What was that you used anyway?
  They spent a few minutes talking about the flows Duratan used to explode
  the scarecrow, and Mura'shar demonstrated hoe to perform simple Illusions. He
  didn't think his Talents would be enough to use Duratan's trick, he was no
  good with anything involving Water, but maybe he could modify it a bit...
  Duratan had another lesson to get to, but Mura'sahr still had a little
  free time. He decided to see how Myiona was doing in her new quarters. As
  he approached them, he could sense she was inside, probably getting ready to
  teach a class of her own.
  He knocked on the door and got a sharp "Who is it?" from Myiona. he
  heard water sloshing, and knew she was in her bath. This gave him an idea.
  He had long suspected Myiona had little shame in flaunting herself. It was
  the source of many an arguement between them. Maybe it was time to put it to
  the test.
  SHow the opponent something unexpected...he quickly wove another
  Illusion, this time around himself. Now he looked exactly like Stevan,
  provided he didn't make any sudden moves, as the Illusion was fragile.
  He opened the door and walked in on Myiona. She was indeed in her
  bath. And on seeing the tsorovan'm'hael walk in, she let out a YELP! and
  tried to totaly submerge herself while at the same time grabbing at a towel.
  Mura'shar couldn't help himself, the scene was so comical. He started
  laughing so hard he couldn't hold onto his weave and it collapsed. When
  Myiona saw who was really standing there laughing, her yelp turned into a
  screech.
  "Get out!" she yelled "Get out of here you..you..." he didn't hear the
  rest of it as he scrambled out just ahead of several small objects that were
  within arms reach of Myiona.
  Jake
  Marked Asha'man

 Walking into the practice yard, Alan was suprised to see the amount of
  activity that was going on. He gently took his bag off of his shoulder and
  started walking towards his old room. After about his third or fourth step
  he noticed a man mumbling to himself. Alan walked over and gently tapped
  him on his shoulder. The dedicated, as Alan saw the silver sword on his
  collar, responded with a rude "what". Alan saw the man's eyes go to the
  dirty traveling clothes that he was wearing, and Alan could almost feel the
  dedicated's arrogance and confidence grow. A sneer was on his face, and he
  actually started to berate Alan for wasting his time. "What do you want, i
  am a busy man, and can not be intterupted by the likes of you?" Alan just
  put down his backpack, and drew his sword from the scabbard on his back.
  The dedicated still was oblivious to his error. "In my homeland, words like
  that can kill someone...I suggest you defend yourself." The dedicated had a
  sword on his hip, but obviously could not use it. He drew it anyway, and
  Alan could sense him drawing on the power. Alan just smiled at the pencil
  pusher, and assumed a battle stance. By this time, the two "combatants" had
  obtained the curiousity of many of the people in the practice yard, and some
  were beggining to come out of the Tower itself. The dedicated decided he
  would attack first and tried to throw a simple weave of air at this dirty
  man standing across from him. Right before it reached Alan, he cut it with
  a viscious weave of spirit. The impact jarred the young dedicated. His
  sneer was replaced by a look of shock. Alan then decided to make an example
  of him. He picked the man up with a weave of air, and continued to float
  him through the air until he was at about the height of the top of the
  "Black Tower." Alan then raised his voice. It was a strong voice, unaided
  with the power. Speaking to the people crowded around him he said, "We are
  here to fight for the dragon, and the people the dragon is going to protect
  and save at Tarmon Gaidon. How can we protect these people, if we
  constantly think they are worth less than dirt. THis man thought me an
  unruly traveler, and is paying for his foolishness. Remember why you are
  here...you are a living weapon of the dragon, and will most likely die
  before or during Tarmon Gaidon. Remember that." Alan then lowered the
  shaken dedicated to the ground and cut off his weaves of air. He then
  picked up his bag and headed toward his room. Inside of it he found a young
  soldier. Instead of ousting the young man, almost a boy really, he just
  went on his way. He knew Xyranthes had some extra room in the library, and
  maybe his old friend could find room for him for a couple of days. Maybe
  after he found someplace to put his stuff and sleep he could finally wash
  the travel dust off. Now that would be a luxury worth dying for.
  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  Sorry i havnt Rped in so long, but i have been mad busy. I will be more
  active from now on, since certain things have come up and i have more time
  on my hands. Well i am off to study, check ya later
  Joe

 Sighing deeply, Shea hauled herself out of the bath. She could have happily
  stayed for the next two hours...or days...or weeks...but as a Novitiate, with
  no Provings in sight, there were probably better ways to spend her time.
  Though, she was sure, none quite so clean. Sadly, she loosened the tub's
  drain, and dried herself off.
  Dressed in her new black uniform -- the only one she'd owned previously
  having gone with her to the Land of Madmen, and subsequently been destroyed
  -- she examined herself in the mirror. Her blond hair, which she kept
  cropped for minimum fussing, had grown unevenly during that strange odyssey,
  and was now chunky and strange-looking, besides being dripping wet from her
  bath. "Oh well," she said in a sing-song tone. She was in the Tower to
  learn, not to catch some crazed husband. Whistling off-key, Shea belted her
  sword, and went out into the practice yard.
  She stopped and stood still for a moment, trying to absorb the sudden
  flurry of activity. The Tower had had its rest and was getting back on its
  feet. Apparently, that process included a large lesson of Soldiers and
  Dedicated in the One Power, as well as an Asha'man and a Dedicated battling
  it out with weaves she could not see, but results that were plainly visible.
  Shea frowned at the Dedicated who was floating mid-air. That was all
  very well, but she couldn't channel saidin. Not that I'd want to, she
  thought wryly. Resting a hand comfortably on her sword hilt, she turned and
  began wandering in the other direction. Surely, for someone of her rank,
  gender, (lack of) experience with the One Power, and combat skills, there had
  to be something to pass the time.
  Now she just had to find it.
  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*
  Yes, I RPed, and yes, you can all get up from having a heart attack on the
  floor. :Þ And while you're at it, you can follow me up on my request for
  adventure...::cute puppydog face::

  *Rae*
  Shea Vironda
  Perennial Novitiate

 Myiona was totally surprised when Stevan stepped into her room. The
  surprised "yelp!" that popped out of her mouth would have shamed her at any
  other time. She slid as far under the water as she could and grabbed a
  towel to cover herself.
  He began laughing and Myiona blushed even more. Then his appearance
  wavered and Mura'shar stood before her. Her eyes narrowed and she stood up
  in the tub. "Get out!" she yelled "Get out of here you..you... beast
  ...you." Each word was given more force by the objects nearby that she
  threw at her bondmate.
  The door slammed behind him as he left the room. Myiona could still
  feel his laughter as he left. "You will pay for this," she muttered under
  her breath. "I promise you will regret trying to humiliate me. This is
  war!"
  A little while later, Myiona had calmed herself enough that she was
  ready to face the others. She grabbed a novitiate who was walking past her
  room. The wide-eyed child ran quickly to do as she was told.
  In a very short amount of time, Andraia and Tareena were sitting
  drinking tea with Myiona. "I think," she said, "that it would be best to
  divide our work among the three of us. Tareena, I would like for you to
  take over the training of our Novitiates and Initiates in battling with the
  power. You have a greater experience and ruthlessness with that aspect of
  training. I would also like to you to pay close attention to Shea. I
  believe she is ready to be proven as Initiate and would like your assessment
  of her abilities."
  "Andraia," she said turning to the other woman, "I would like you to
  begin working with the Novitiates easing their way into the life of the
  tower and giving them basic lessons in using the power and when they are
  ready turn them over to Tareena."
  Myiona stopped and took a drink of her tea. "I will handle some of the
  weapons training and pull in other instructors to help with that task."
  "On another note," she said smiling, "I would like for us to have a
  little gathering tonight in the courtyard for the women. This will give us
  all a chance to unwind and to get to know our newest members in a relaxed
  setting. I will need some help pulling things together so quickly.
  Andraia will you go speak to the people in the kitchen. Tareena, you can
  gather some of the others to help you decorate. I am going to find the
  entertainment. I can promise that it will be a night to remember."

 

  Alcinia was sitting on a tree branch near the practice yard watching the guys
  battle it out. She smiled as she watched several of them land headfirst in the
  dirt. She had hidden her findings from the island in her room and planned on
  sneaking off to sell them soon. She was bored and a bored Alcinia meant
  trouble.
  A novitiate stepped under the tree. Alcinia smiled and jumped down to land
  behind her. The girl whirled around, pulling her sword. "Whoa," She said
  taking a step back. "I did not mean to startle you. I just wanted to say
  hello. I am Alcinia and a Dragonsworn here. I am from Mayene. My favorite
  activity of late is climbing trees." She pointed up at the branch she had been
  sitting on.
  She smiled shyly at the girl and said, "I still feel pretty new here myself.
  There does not seem to be anyone conducting lessons for the women today. If you
  are as bored as I am, we could go to the kitchen and try to sneak some food out.
  I would like to ride by the river and check out the trees there. What do you
  think?"
 
 

  Resheathing her sword, Shea grinned. "Sounds fun," she said in a neutral
  voice, trying to size up Alcinia. She was a Dragonsworn, and most likely an
  Aes Sedai -- I'll try not to hold it against her --, who liked to climb trees
  and sneak around? Unusual, to say the least. It was, however, more like
  herself than Shea cared to admit.
  "Shea Vironda, Novitiate," she said, extending her hand. "I was born in
  Tar Valon, but I moved to Whitebridge when I was eight years old." Raking
  her fingers through her hair, she turned around and gave the yard a sweeping
  survey. "Most of my time as a Novitiate was on the island," she confessed,
  "and this is only my second day in Caemlyn. I'm afraid you'll have to lead
  the way."

  ~Rae
  Too tired to write coherently, but oh well!

 Luthar looked at the farm grounds from afar and knew something was
  different and odd. Luthar climbed off his horse, a nag he had stolen from a
  some farmer along the road. Luthar could not believe he had stoop to that
  level. He was use to the finest horses, yet he did not have the money he
  had before, so he had to make due with this flea-ridden nag.
  Slowly he crept toward the farm after tying his horse to a tree. Luthar
  saw a young man seemingly slumped on the ground in what seemed like a
  courtyard, yet another sign of strangeness for a farm. Walking up to the
  young man, he said, "Good day, good sir, I am a traveler wandering this
  land, could you perchance show me to..... whoever is in charge around here?"
  The young man stood up and sneered, "Do you know where you stand?"
  Luthar completely bewildered, "aww no, where do I stand?"
  The man objected to this thinking him joking and said, "Get back on your
  horse and leave and never come back, you fool with powers beyond your
  comprehension, Get away!"
  Luthar insisted, "Please I just need a bed and food and water, please
  good sir."
  The man quickly drew a sword, and pointed it at him, saying, "Leave now,
  or I will have no other resort but to kill you!"

  ~Ed
  Luthar Dartheon
  btw if you didn't know the man is Mortamor Sneed, and also this is sort of
  planned for someone to respond so please can you let that person respond
  before you junp in to save me, you know you love me hehe :P

 Tareena's mind flew in all different directions, trying to absorb the
  events of the afternoon. One minute she had been lying peacefully in the
  grass by the lake, the next she had been swept up in a tide of feelings which
  threatened to drown her in their wake. She had turned at the sound of tree
  branches parting and footsteps along the path, smiling to see Darren
  approaching. He had quietly sat down next to her, pulling her into his arms
  with ease, making himself a part of her favorite place as no one else could.
  They had sat for what seemed like hours, cherishing the time alone which was
  so rare. At one point, Tareena had turned around and looked up to respond to
  a question and stopped midsentence as she sucked in an involuntary gasp of
  air. The look in her bondmates eyes was enough to set her heart to beating
  faster, its intent unmistakable. He leaned down and brushed a kiss across
  her lips then anther and still yet another. Her pulse quickened even more as
  she raised her hands to his hair and responded, deepening the kiss and the
  contact. What would have happened next is lost in a time of maybes and might
  have beens for at the moment, a young noviate walked into the clearing. It
  was hard to say who was more embarrassed at the time, it was quite a toss up
  between the three of them. Tareena finally broke the taboo by asking what
  the young girl wanted. Hearing that she was asked to see Myiona, she
  silently breathed a curse and a thank you, not sure which one she meant the
  most. Brushing her skirts, she turned to leave, not quite being able to meet
  Darren's eyes.
  Moving along the path, she felt herself begin to blush once more at her
  wanton audacity. What must he be thinking I wonder? What was I thinking?
  But oh it felt so nice, being there with him. I am so confused and yet...it
  felt right too.
  Turning a corner she came upon a sight which drove all thoughts of
  Darren from her mind. In front of her stood a Dedicated holding his sword
  pointed at an unknown man, threatening to kill him if he did not leave
  immediately. Assuming the Dedicated knew what he was about, Tareena moved to
  pass them stopping in her tracks when she heard the stranger ask for food and
  a bed. To her ears, it sounded like this was not the first time this plea
  had been voiced or ignored. Quietly she moved to stand next to the
  Dedicated, calmly asking what was going on here, hoping that she was
  misinterpreting the situation. That hope was dashed in under a minute as the
  Dedicated, with a sneer said " This is none of your concern move along lady."
  Before Tareena could answer, the stranger spoke to her. "Ma'am, it's okay,
  I will leave, I want to cause no trouble here." Still not looking at her,
  the Dedicated moved his sword and knicked the man on the neck, drawing blood.
  "Then get out and don't come back." A look of surprise and something
  Tareena could not read flashed across the man's face in the instant before
  her voice whip cracked across the path, startling both the Dedicated and the
  stranger. "How dare you touch this man? I will have your hide for this you
  ingrate." The Dedicated turned to protest, finally getting a good look at
  her. Blood drained from his face and his pompous attitude deflated like a
  balloon. Babbling almost incoherently, she caught words here and there,
  mostly apologies and the like. "You will go immediately to the Captain of the
  Soldiers and report to him what just occurred. Leave out nothing, for I will
  be conversing with him myself. If you so much as leave out a comma in your
  narrative, you will wish you had never laid eyes on the Black Tower. Do I
  make myself clear? With satisfaction, Tareena watched the man jump to his
  feet and take off.
  Tareena looked at the stranger and smiled. "Please accept my apologies
  for your treatment. There is no excuse for this, therefore I shall not try
  to offer one. " Turning to the noviate who had followed her from the
  clearing, she gave instructions for the strangers care and turned to make her
  way once more down the path. As she moved from hearing, she heard the
  stranger ask the noviate in a strange tone of voice, who she was. She did
  not hear the answer however, her mind already moving on to other things.
  Tareena began to catalogue in her mind the things she needed to
  accomplish in the next few days. Myiona had asked her to continue training
  the noviates and the initiates in using the power for battle. Too, there was
  a noviate, by the name of Shea, who showed great promise in her abilities but
  was moving along slowly. Myiona had asked that she take a special interest
  in the girl, find out what the problem might be and help move her along. The
  Tower needed all of the females in top shape, using their power effectively,
  not stuck in some vacuum. Myiona had also suggested that the ladies meet
  tonight in the courtyard, an informal gathering, just to relax and get to
  know one another better. They had been gone from the tower for so long there
  were many new faces. Tareena also had to speak with the Captain of the
  Soldiers. Deciding that couldn't wait, she took off at a brisk pace, thinking
  of what she wanted to wear that evening and what kind of exercises she wanted
  to use in her training exercises.

  Lisa ~ aka Tareena De'Havilan
  Guardian of the Black Tower
  Marked Dragonsworn

 Mura'shar reentered the Black Tower after buying a few things in town,
  especially a couple of pairs o shoes. They were plain, but the best made
  available. And he intended to try something to make them better.
  As he neared his quarters, he passed a sour-faced Dedicated. Mura'shar
  had heard of this one, Mortamor Sneed. He's been causing trouble for half
  the Tower recently. Rumor said he even attacked a visitor to the Tower
  without provocation. If and when he becomes a full Asha'man, he'll be
  insufferable. The Light help us all if he ever becomes marked.
  Sneed noticed Mura'shar approaching. He sneered at him and began to
  swagger over. As Sneed was about to open his mouth Mura'shar lowered his
  bundles so both his sword and dragon pins were clearly visible to the
  Dedicated. The Sneer faded from his face, and he went pale when he finally
  recognized Mura'shar. He gulped and started to back off
  Mura'shar quickened his pace so he would pass Sneed before he cold run
  off. As he passed he said in a low voice "See you at weapons practice
  tomorrow at dawn" That should give him something to sweat over.
  Once back in his quarters, he put away his purchases except for a pair of
  boots. He studied them carefully, with both his eyes ad the One Power.
  Slowly, be began to weave. He used all five Powers in small amounts and
  very, very carefully. e never tried anything like this before. Once he was
  finished, these boots should be as soft as well-worn shoes, but as strong as
  chain mail, and resistant to fire as well. If it worked off course.
  I was well past sunset by the time he finished the first pair. Mura'shar
  rubbed his eyes ad stood up. He was famished. He wandered over to the mess
  hall to see if there was anything left to eat.
  On the way he realized he hadn't seen much of Myiona recently. Not since
  that incident with his Illusion. He hoped she hadn't taken it too seriously,
  though much of Mura'shar's attempts at humor blow up in his face. Mura'shar
  kept his door locked the first night after the incident, fearing retribution
  from his bondmate. But by now he hoped she'd, if not forgiven and forgotten,
  at least calmed down a little. Still ... he unconsciously kept a weave for
  cutting flows of saidar ready as he scanned the shadows. No need to be
  nervous. No need at all...

  Jake
  Marked (for death?) Asha'man

 After Tareena and Andraia left, Myiona sat down and made a list of things
  she needed to do. The first thing on her list was to line up entertainment
  for the party. Quickly, she wove a gateway and stepped through to her
  aunt's home. After a brief conversation, Myiona stepped back through to her
  room at the Black Tower. She would open a gateway prior to the start of the
  party and her aunt would take care of arranging the entertainment.
  Her next item of business was a visit with Ariana. She did not find the
  healer in her room and there were no novitiates lounging around nearby.
  That left the finding totally up to Myiona. With a sigh, she walked through
  the halls of the tower. No one seemed to know where the healer might be.
  Myiona walked outside and checked the training grounds. Still no Ariana.
  She was about to give up when she caught a glimpse of a woman limping out of
  one of the stables. "Ariana," Myiona said using the power to carry her
  voice. "I need to speak with you." She hurried over to the young woman.
  One glimpse of Ariana's face showed her anger. "I will not need much of
  your time," she said, "and then you can go after whoever it is that has you
  looking so upset. I have been thinking that it is time we set-up a proper
  infirmary, more on the lines of what they have at the White Tower. I think
  you are the proper one to determine what needs to be done. I would like for
  you to put together a list of things you will need for the infirmary as well
  as the size of the building that should be built for it. After that, I want
  you to sit down and work up a schedule where you can work with the
  Novitiates, Initiates, and Dragonsworn. I think we all need a course in
  battle healing as well as brushing up on minor healing. One last thing, I
  would like for come to my room tomorrow for lunch."
  Myiona listened to Ariana's reply and smiled. "I would love to chat with
  you further," she said, "but I have a long list of things that I need to do
  this afternoon." The First Dragonsworn hurried off in search of the next
  person on her list.
  Myiona found Xyranthes huddled over an old book jotting down notes
  furiously. "Good day," she said with a smile. "I am sorry to interrupt
  you, but I have something I need to discuss with you." She looked around
  the cluttered room, noting the dust and disorganization. Nodding to
  herself, Myiona said, "I think the Library has grown out its current
  housing. I would like for you to think about getting a new library built.
  If you can put together a brief idea of the size of the building and what
  you would like to have inside, we can go present the idea to the proper
  officials." She smiled sweetly waiting for his reply.
  Later, Myiona hurried to the courtyard to check on preparations. The
  decorations were all finished. She also caught sight of several women
  carrying platters of food to the tables. With a smile, she hurried back to
  her room to change and bring the entertainment to the Tower.

 
  Passing the elaborately carved full-length mirror, the woman caught her
  reflection and paused. Pale green eyes met pale green eyes and for a moment the
  world fell away and became the past ...

  .. "Where will you go?" the woman asked. "I've got to find her, La'rece. Are
  you coming?" La'rece Barata'gan met her bondmate's eyes. "No." Ivan's glare
  would have burned her to ashes had they been fire. Yet he knew she could not
  follow. Her place was here, at the Tower in the event Janara returned. The
  three were joined by a common bonding, each compelled to care for the others.
  To remain was La'rece's way of caring for Janara. For now she would wait while
  Ivan set off in search of ... what? La'rece could sense ... something.
  Something undefined, yet something of Janara still.

  .. coming back to the present, the Marked Dragonsworn took in her appearance.
  She had taken to wearing the fine gowns one would find at court. A look she had
  generally avoided as often as possible since setting to her more adventurous
  road long ago. Today she wore green silk satin, so dark as to appear black at
  first. Her red hair rolled back from the sides and held in place with silver
  combs in the likeness of butterflies, their wings glittering with emeralds.

  La'rece had become a recluse in the Black Tower since their return. Even before
  she had become withdrawn and silent, keeping counsel with only Ivan and Janara.
  She had become a stranger in a strange land, but in order to survive, to live,
  she needed to rejoin the Tower, but ...

  Ivan had been gone for a fortnight and La'rece's days had become one of
  contemplation and introspection. Too long had her sword and saddle sat unused.
  "Woman, you cannot sit here like this! They're gone. For now, they're gone
  .." Tears welled up and the fiery Green fell upon her bed letting the fear and
  sorrow she had kept at bay wash over her.

  Lauren
  La'rece Barata'gan
  Bondmate to Ivan and Janara
  Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 "What, and relocate again, after I just got the 3rd mission copied, cataloged
  and filed? I don't think I could stand that." The old Cairheinian looks
  longingly around.
  Why today, he thought, is everybody trying to get us to move.
  "Can't we just add on another attachment? It would keep the problems of
  having the books jostled at a minimum. I'm sorry, but I just couldn't bare
  the thought of having to endanger the books in another relocation without a
  better reason than we've grown to large."
  Xyranthes smiles benignly, but refuses to budge.

  Peter
  <><

 
  Alcinia grinned and said, "Well then let's get moving." Quickly, they raided
  the kitchen and grabbed a couple of horses from the stable. The ride was short
  and they allowed the horses to graze while they ate.
  A little while later, Alcinia was sitting in the top of one of the trees looking
  off into the distance. She saw a horse approaching the river, and the rider was
  slumped over in the saddle.
  Alcinia jumped down and pointed it out to Shea. "I think there is someone," she
  said, "who needs our help." Alcinia jumped onto the back of her horse and rode
  toward the stranger.
  The young girl was running a high fever and her leg appeared infected. Alcinia
  and Shea pulled her off of the horse, lowering her to the ground carefully.
  "Healing isn't my strongest area," Alcinia said. "What about you?"

 Shea snorted. "Alcinia," she said dryly, "channeling isn't my strongest
  area. Most of my training thus far has been how to outrace a volcano, how to
  lurk around in old ruins, how to fight off madmen. You know, useful stuff
  like that. I came to the Black Tower because I wanted to learn to channel,
  anywhere but the White Tower. I haven't really accomplished that," she
  grinned, "but I must say, my instincts are a lot sharper than they were back
  when I was a merchant's daughter in Whitebridge. Even though that merchant
  just happened to be a Warder, as well." Alcinia was probably giving her a
  strange look, but Shea concentrated on the girl.
  "What's your name?" she asked her in as gentle a tone she could manage.
  The child's eyelids fluttered open and closed. Beneath the long black
  lashes, the eyes were deep brown, the same shade as her hair, but beyond that
  Shea couldn't tell anything, such as nationality or class, from the girl's
  appearance. "Norraine," she whispered hoarsely.
  "What happened to you?" asked Alcinia.
  Norraine opened her mouth as if to answer, but when her lips moved, no
  sound came out. Looking alarmed, the girl tried to sit up, but slumped back
  down after a moment's wasted effort.
  Oh dear. "Norrie," Shea said soothingly, "don't waste your energy on
  trying to answer questions. It's okay, we can talk later, when you're
  better...Norrie? Norrie? You want some water?"
  The young girl nodded feebly, and Shea tipped her waterskin over the
  child's small, parched mouth, filling it with cool liquid recently raided
  from the Black Tower's well-stocked kitchen. "Thank you," whispered Norraine.
  "You're welcome." The novitiate dabbed Norraine's forehead with the
  water as well, exchanging a glance with Alcinia, when the Dragonsworn glanced
  back down at the recumbent child and made a small noise of alarm. Shea's
  green eyes dropped to see what was happening -- but whatever it was, it had
  already come and gone, because Norraine was totally unconscious. Shea sat
  back on the grass, her short hair ruffling in the mild breeze, and looked at
  Alcinia, who, though she wasn't asserting her rank, was still at least
  technically in charge.
  "Well!" remarked Shea.

  Shea * Rae
  Novitiate
  Desperately in need of a muse...!
 
 
  Ariana awoke much later than she had intended; a glance out the window
  revealed how much later. "Light! At this rate I'll be late for lunch!" She
  leapt up and began hurriedly getting ready. She had agreed to meet Myiona
  for lunch; now she hoped she wouldn't be late. "Oh, why did I sleep late on
  the one day it's really important not to?" she wailed as she dashed about the
  room. She almost forgot, in her haste, the papers pinned to the wall.
  Giving both a cursory scan as she limped out of the room, she decided they
  would have to do for now. No time to neatly recopy them and make sure they
  were corrected, but at least the writing was reasonably neat, and she could
  proofread them on the way.
  She strode (as best she could) out of the building, having leaped the stairs
  by threes, but paused a moment to scan the area for that wretched prim-faced
  fool who had knocked her down the other day, and was responsible for her sore
  ankle today. Of course, I'm sure riding on it had absolutely no effect on
  how much it hurts, she thought wryly, It didn't hurt that much before I took
  Tai'dari out- and if I had thought about it rather than storming off furious,
  I might have realized I'd wrenchedit that badly and skipped the riding. But
  after her encounter with that horrid Dedicated, she had been determined to go
  riding, if only because he had tried so hard to prevent it. She refused to
  let such people win even petty battles.
  She was almost halfway to where Myiona's quarters were, when she passed by
  one of the few roads that led to the Tower from elsewhere. Oddly enough, a
  horse was standing patiently by the side of it, and two figures were
  crouching over something she couldn't quite see. She thought one of the
  people was the girl she had spoken to on the trip, the one who had a dislike
  for the White Tower. The other wasn't recognizable; her face was in the
  shadow of the horse. "Hello?" she called. "Is there a problem?"
  Heh, I woke up late this morning, so Ari gets to suffer my fate... I hate
  when I do that. It means I have to rush. And my school is NOT worth rushing
  for! :)

 "So," Alcinia said, "it looks like she is in my hands, poor girl. I can't heal
  much more than a scrape."
  It was quite a relief when Ariana walked up and
  said, "Hello?" she called. "Is there a problem?"
  "Thank the light," Alcinia said stepping back. She gasped as the young woman's
  features blurred and shifted. "Illusion. She is using illusion to hide her
  appearance." The child disappeared to be replaced by a young woman with reddish
  hair.
  "I guess I shouldn't be surprised," Alcinia said looking at Shea. "I used it
  all the time in Mayene without really knowing what I was doing. Of course that
  was when I was stealing for a living. Looking small and helpless can be a big
  advantage when you get caught." She laughed and watched Ariana work.

 As he looked around, Aramis began to feel much older than he really was.
  Most of the men and women he had served with previously had scars and the
  soulfull(?) eyes of people who have seen too much. Much like Aramis himself.
  Healing could remove scars, if tended to in time, but sometimes there just
  wasn't time. He also knew that Healing wouldn't replace lost limbs; the
  curved steel protruding from his right sleeve was proof of that.
  That's life. Deal with it.
  It did feel nice to be back on Tower grounds, though. Aramis wandered
  almost aimlessly between the buildings and around various practice grounds,
  looking for the T'sorovan'm'hael of the Maelstrom. When Aramis finally found
  him just outside his room, Stevan was the first person,and only person,
  Aramis had recognized.
  Aramis saluted, fist over heart, exactly as he had done since his first
  day as a Soldier. "Good day, Asha'man."
  "Good afternoon, Aramis. You're finally back with us."
  "Aye, and hopefully for good this time." Grinning, Aramis donned the
  accent of his most recent residence, Illian. "Ye do need t' shave, boss. Ye
  look like a Tairen pirate."
  Stevan gave him an odd look. Aramis laughed.
  "Sorry, Steven. The wharves of Illian are an informal place. What's new
  at the Tower?"
  The two men made a slow circuit of the nearest training ground. Stevan
  listed the various goings-on that the Maelstrom had seen in Aramis' absence.
  Aramis listened with one ear, paying attention mostly to the new faces he saw
  along the way. When the Storm leader finished his account of the tainted
  Avendesora, Aramis commented on the number of people he didn't know. "I've
  not seen Mura'Shar or Tor or anyone. Mostly raw recruits, from the looks of
  it."
  Stevan sighed. "Tor's gone, transferred out, as well as Rengar, Kano, and
  many others. Mura'shar' is still around, probably trying to hide from Myiona.
  A few others you know are still around." He smiled. "Not that that matters.
  As it stands, we have more than our share of talent and skill. Would you like
  to meet some of the new people who might save your life on day?" Stevan
  gestured toward a couple of Dragonsworn.
  "Why not?"
  Stevan led Aramis over to the two Dragonsworn in question. "Aramis
  Morwyn, these are Genia and Atia."
  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  And you people thought you could be rid of me... I had intended on Rping
  sooner, but my doctor gave me some really good drugs after my knee surgery. I
  spent most of spring break floating around the house ::sings Purple Haze::
  Anyway, hope it was worth something.
  J

 

  Luthar stood in bewilderment as the events flew by his eyes. The woman
  coming to his rescue as if were took him totally off guard. As soon as it
  began it was over, leaving Luthar looking upon the back of the woman. The
  young woman the woman directed to show him to his room walked toward him.
  Luthar began with curiousity deep in his voice, "who was that, may I ask?"
  The young woman replied, "why that is Dragonsworn Tareena De'Havilan."
  The young woman began to prattle on as young women tended to do, but Luthar
  heard not a word and only responded when neccessary by nodding as the young
  woman led him to a room. Luthar began to mull over his situation as the
  young woman left. Luthar had ran right into what he was running from, the
  title of the woman affirmed this, she was Dragonsworn which meant the Dragon
  which of course meant channeling. Luthar had heard rumors of a place such
  as this but didn't believe they were actually true and now he stood face to
  face with what he thought was a rumor. Luthar thought he could run, but he
  knew he could not and live with himself. A debt indeed was owed and if he
  had to die to repay this debt he would. ~I owe this Tareena De'Havilan
  much,~ he thought, ~and where she liked it or not he would repay her in
  full.~ The simple fact was that this was way of things for Luthar.
  His stomach groaned in hunger, and he began to regret not listening to
  the young woman. ~oh well,~ he thought. Putting his little belogings he
  had with him away in the room and then pulling on black cloak, he emerged
  from the room with a determined walk. His stomach clenched as he shut the
  door, ~Can they detect the ability to channel?~

  Ed
  ~Luthar Dartheon

 Andraia stared up at the ceiling in her darkened room, sleepless and not
  restless. Shadows had shifted during her long vigil, moving slowly across
  the ceiling and wall. She was thinking, about her days in the White Tower,
  the change to the Black Tower, and whether she truly wanted it anymore. Or
  if she ever had.
  Finally she sat up and swung her legs off the bed, shivering as her bare
  feet hit the icy air. Her nightgown was too thin to provide any protection,
  so she dressed quickly and began to gather her possessions... what little she
  had in the way of them. Then she was ready. She wrote out a brief note and
  folded it, leaving it propped on the desk, Stevan's name on the front. He
  deserved an explanation, at least. Then she was gone.

  Stevan stirred in his sleep. Only semiconscious he turned in his sleep,
  and pulled his covers tightly over him to protect himself from the cold
  night. Then startled he suddenly sat up in bed, blinking his still sleepy
  eyes rapidly. Through the bond he could sense Andraia, but she wasn't lying
  in her bed...she was outside, somewhere, wincing as brambles dug into her
  legs. And in her mind, only two emotions - determination and yet uncertainty.
  He quickly jumped out of bed, puzzled and confused. Pulling on some
  clothes to protect himself from the icy night air he stepped out into the
  corridor. Still not believing what the bond was telling him, he put his head
  into Andraia's room...and she wasn't there. But something caught his eye.
  Even in the dim light he could make out a folded note bearing his name.
  Stepping into her room he had eyes only for the note. Unfolding it, his
  eyes moved over it in a dreamlike trance, not believing what he was reading:

  Stevan-
  This will seem sudden to you, I know. But I must leave, and now. I
  didn't want to say goodbye, as I am very bad at saying goodbye, and knowing
  that you are my only friend would make it all the worse. Please forgive me.
  Andraia

  He let the note drop to the floor as he stood alone in that bare room.
  Thoughts flashed through his mind undiscernably, except one. What Andraia was
  doing now was dangerous and...illogical? And then he began to pick off his
  other thoughts one by one, and he pieced them together in his mind and they
  formed the words that even deep in his heart he didn't want to admit. He
  couldn't face life without her...
  Impulsively he ran out into the night.

  Andraia pulled at the skirts that had, once again, gotten tangled into a
  briar. Skirts were not the best for traipsing about in the forest, and the
  dead of night certainly the worse time to do so. She wasn't afraid of the
  beasts that roamed the forests... they were far more afraid of her than she
  was of them. Any harmful men would certainly be asleep at this hour of the
  night, and she found it difficult to believe that anyone from the Black Tower
  would be after her yet. The utter stillness of the night, broken only by the
  crunch of leaves under her feet and the snap of breaking branches when she
  pulled her skirts free, surrounded her and encased her in a cocoon of calm.
  Her wall was up again, the icy barrier that kept all others out. She had
  left her few friends behind as she had left, and had now only herself to
  think of. Which was something she preferred not to do.
  She had continued on for some time, as quiet as she could be in the
  forest, when an alien sound broke the quiet. She whirled around, knife at
  the ready: she would be easy prey for nothing.

  Stevan ran through the forest, occasionally tripping over sticks and
  brambles, stumbling, but never falling as his confused emotions drove him
  onwards. Why? This was the predominant question that was in his mind. He was
  confused...why would she leave? Has to? Why? Any circle of thought lead him
  back to that one word, that one word that was playing around in his mind,
  driving him insane.
  The trees sheltered him from the icy wind, but the slight breeze still
  made him shiver, and he pulled his jacket tighter around him as branches
  crunched under foot, and leaves crackled as his heavy feet stepped on them.
  Suddenly he fell to the ground, tripped by an overgrown root.
  May the Light forsake that cursed women! He slowly got up, his emotion
  now changing to one of anger. How could she leave him when they were bonded?
  Bonding was for life - having her in his mind all day knowing that he would
  never see her again would surely drive him mad quicker than the Taint would
  rot him to a skeleton.
  Then he felt her nearing in the bond. Slowing down as not to scare her,
  he made his way carefully through the trees and undergrowth, using his
  tracking skills his late father had taught him as a child in Shienar. He
  seized saidin as to enhance his vision, and within a minute he could glimpse
  her in the distance.
  The sky was clouding over now, and the moon was being swallowed by the
  expanse of cloud sweeping over from the north. Only one half of the sky's
  stars could now be seen, making the heavenly canopy overhead incomplete. But
  soon the whole sky would be shut to the lights of the unknown heavens,
  becoming plain and meaningless.
  After a few more minutes of quick and careful tracking he was only about
  twenty feet behind her, and she was now easily discernable even on this dark
  night. He stepped carefully once more over a bush...only to land his foot on
  a branch. Andraia whirled around, a knife in her hand, the look on her face
  fierce. But when she saw it was him, her face softened, but also became one
  of shock.
  "Andraia...I..." All emotion left him as he tried to think of what to
  say. But the only word that came out was more dangerous than the Taint, more
  torturous to his soul than the death of his family, and was laughing in his
  mind, laughing at his confusion. His voice was flat and emotionless. "...Why?"

  Andraia gathered her cloak around her absently with one hand, the other
  checking the set of her hood. She had never heard Stevan sound so cold, so
  emotionless so... like her. "You ask why, Stevan? I am willing you answer
  your question, but perhaps you will not like the answer I give." His face
  was still set, so she nodded and glanced around, her eyes alighting on a
  small cluster of rocks. "Here, sit and I will tell you." He sat stiffly,
  his eyes never leaving what he could see of her swathed face as she sat, a
  short distance away on another rock.
  "As you know, I despise my ability to channel, despise the necessity
  that was put upon me at an early age to learn how to tame it so I would not
  die in some fit of stupidity. But there is a reason for my hatred, and not
  just the prejudices of my country." She took a deep breath and released it
  slowly, preparing herself and steeling her emotions even more firmly. She
  did not like to think of this story.
  "When I was a young girl, I had an aunt that had lived with us for some
  time, having suddenly appeared on our doorstep in the rain one winter
  evening. My parents hadn't seen her since she was a young girl, and it was,
  obviously, a shock. We let her in and let her stay with us, welcoming her
  into our hearts and home with open arms.
  "I was as quiet then as I am now, using few words and always swathed. I
  was afraid of her, and didn't know why. My parents loved having her, she was
  an extra hand to help about the farm. But she frightened me. Finally, one
  day, she gave me a real reason to do so." Andraia reached around and
  unbuttoned the top half of the buttons on the back of her dress, then turned
  and moved her cloak aside so Stevan could see. On her back were large,
  ridged welts, long healed but standing out a still-angry red against her pale
  skin. "She was a channeler, and on day I angered her. She punished me
  rather... severely for what was simply a childhood transgression. She warned
  me against telling anyone, then continued to hurt, day after day, without me
  parents finding out. I would never let my mother see the scars when she came
  near, and ran from any touch. They thought there was something wrong with
  me, something more than my freakish paleness. Finally, one day, mother saw
  my scars and cast my aunt out of the house. The villagers discovered that
  she was a "witch," and I had to stand in front of the crowd as she burned.
  I'll never forget the smell..." Andraia trailed off as she redid the buttons
  of her dress and let her cloak drop down, concealing her in shadow again.
  "That is why I hate channelers, Stevan. I can feel the ache in my scars
  again every time someone near me channels. I have to leave. I can't stand
  the pain anymore." She pulled her cloak tighter and waited, watching him
  with her pale silver eyes.

  Stevan stared at her in shock. How much pain did this poor woman have to
  go through? He managed to speak, though his voice was cold and his mind was
  still reeling from his bondmate's latest revelation. "Andraia...it was three
  years ago now when I thought I had betrayed my country."
  Stevan was surprised as he narrated a story that caused so many painful
  emotions to him. "It was during a large Shadowspawn raid. Fal Sion was under
  almost constant attack, and the fighting was against the city walls. I had
  just put on my armour and was running to fetch my sword when I was confronted
  by a man. I didn't pay much attention to him, he was dressed in peasant's
  garb and to me looked insignificant, and above all, I was more concerned with
  the commencing battle. But he turned to me and spoke in a cool and calm
  voice. 'Stevan, you must come with me and open the city gates now.'"
  Stevan shook his head in disbelief at what his reply had been. "I
  followed him. I didn't know why at the time, his words just seemed to make
  sense to me then, although they don't now. Eventually we reached room above
  the city gates from whence they were opened, and obeying the man's
  instructions I opened the gates with the key I, the heir of Fal Sion, had
  been entrusted with.
  "I can still remember the shocked silence after the gates had opened.
  It's amazing how quiet battles can get when something so unexpected happens.
  That silence only lasted for a split second though before the guttural
  Trolloc war cries could be heard as they charged into the city. It was then
  when I realised what I had done, and I stood in disbelief, and then looked in
  shock at the man, who then had a leer on his face. 'It seems as if you've
  betrayed your beloved Fal Sion, Stevan.' I was still in shock, and asked what
  I could do. The advice he gave me was to run, run away as fast as I can."
  Stevan took a deep breath as he looked up into Andraia's wide eyes, her
  turn to be in disbelief of his past. She was engrossed in his story, and he
  continued. "It was during my wanderings that I found the Black Tower and
  became an Asha'man. But while I was a Dedicated I made contact with Fal Sion,
  asking how my family was. The reply was that they had all died in that
  Trolloc raid - my betrayal had cost them their lives. I was enraged and
  overcome with guilt, but I vowed to wreck revenge on every Shadowspawn in the
  Blight, and in my heart I felt that man was involved in some way.
  "Therefore, I travelled to Fal Sion and in my rage, because I was now
  Lord, I commandeered an army into the Blight. To cut a long story short,
  during the battle I met that man again. After I agreed that I deserved to die
  for my treachery, and he could kill me, he whispered this in my ear: 'Stevan,
  you never were a traitor. I am a dreadlord, and have you heard of a weave
  called Compulsion?'"
  Stevan's voice was cold and cruel as he told his bondmate of one of the
  most emotive experiences in his life. "It was then when I killed him. I was
  stronger in the Power than he was, and sword play, and though I'm ashamed to
  say it now, he died a slow and painful death."
  His voice changed suddenly as his mind snapped back into the current
  situation. "You're accepting the blame for something that isn't your own
  fault Andraia, just as I once did. Your Aunt was cruel and abused her talent,
  but it had nothing to do with you and your talent. Channelling was used by
  your Aunt to inflict her cruelty, but it might just have easily been a stick
  - it was her intentions that caused the pain. You can despise your Aunt for
  what she did, but you should never despise your channelling. That's
  irrational." Stevan paused for a second as he realised what he was saying -
  Andraia was being illogical!
  Regathering his thoughts he continued. "You've seen what good channelling
  has done, how it's assisted in fighting the Dark One, how it's caused many
  people's lives to be saved through Healing. But most of all, you can channel
  safely. I'm the one that will be poisoned as soon as I turn mad, I'm the one
  that could cause the Breaking of the World to happen again!"
  He was surprised at the panic and emotion in his own voice. Asha'man
  rarely spoke about the Taint, and what had just come out of his mouth shocked
  even him. He turned to Andraia to see her reaction.

  Andraia looked on Stevan with surprise, amazed at what he had told her,
  and saddened by his pain. She stood and walked to him, kneeling beside him
  and hesitantly placing a hand on his shoulder. He looked at her, seeming
  astonished that she was looking at him with so much emotion, and she looked
  into his eyes gravely.
  "I will help you stay sane, Stevan, if you wish me to remain I will. Do
  you want me to be here with you?" She awaited his answer, her hand a light
  pressure on his shoulder.

  Shocked by her emotion and overcome by his own, Stevan could only imagine
  a quiet whisper. He grabbed her other hand and clasped it between his own,
  and looked into her eyes. "Andraia, I need you to stay with me. I don't want
  to go insane." No one mentioned the Taint, there was no one to talk to about
  the pain and fear of an early death, and the nauseating feeling of seizing
  sweet saidin. Tears ran down his face. "Please stay with me. If you help me
  conquer my madness, I'll help you conquer the demons of your past. Please,
  I...need you." He lowered his eyes as he made his final admission, his only
  comfort was his bondmate touching him, easing the pain.

  Andraia took Stevan's hands and gently pulled him to his feet. "I will
  stay, Stevan, for you." She wiped his tears away with a gentle hand, and
  smiled, the corners of her mouth tilting upwards slowly, as though rusty from
  long disuse. "Let us go back to the Tower. I'm sure the others are
  wondering what has happened to us." She touched his elbow and they started
  back towards home.
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------

  Steve and Emily
  <><

 
  Genia urged her horse on. "Oh Shadow," she said to the tired horse, "I know
  you're worn out, and so am I, but we have to keep going, at least until we
  find somewhere to stay."
  Shadow neighed and walked on, but just barely keeping up. Genia tried to
  ignore her aching leg, but her efforts were in vain. She couldn't stop from
  thinking about the pain. 'Maybe I should have stayed at home,' she thought.
  "And we know we can'r trust anybody around here, right Shadow?" she asked
  her horse.
  "Oh... But compared to this home is a joy-ride." Genia sighed and slumped
  over in the saddle. Shadow kept on walking, though, and soon they were
  nearing a river.
  Then Shadow had stopped and someone was pulling her off the horse. Genia
  tried opening her eyes, but could only get a glimpse of two people.
  "What's your name?" one of the girls asked Genia.
  Genia thought fast. She couldn't trust these people, and it wouldn't hurt
  to give them a little false information... "Norraine," she whispered.
  Norraine was the name of one of her cousins.
  "What happened to you?" the other young woman asked.
  Genia opened her mouth to give them an explanation. But no sound came out
  swhen she tried to speak. Genia sat up, alarmed, but couldn't stay that way
  for long. She tried to look around. 'Where's Shadow?' she wondered.
  "Norrie," the girl who had spoke first said, "don't waste your energy on
  trying to answer questions. It's okay, we can talk later, when you're
  better... Norrie? Norrie? You want some water?"
  Genia nodded, she was thirsty... And maybe it couldn't hurt to drink some
  of their water, for they were planning to drink it themselves, and they
  wouldn't purposefully put anything dangerous in their own drinking water.
  Genia drank some of the water, then whispered, "Thank you."
  "You're welcome," the girl replied back.
  Genia tried to keep her eyes open... Everything was going round and
  round... Oh, not good... Then, the world faded to black.

  - - - -
  Alright, I'm leaving it there... I suppose I'm still unconscious when
  Ariana comes over? Well, I'll wait for Ariana's reply before writing more.
  :-)

  Have a good day everyone,
  Beth
 
 Now that he was back at the Tower it was difficult for Rengar to go through
  the routine again, at first. All of those months spent at the far corners of
  the globe had made Rengar almost forget about what he had done while in the
  Tower. Almost, of course, but after a few days of living in the Black Tower
  once again he had to say that he had once again grown accustomed to life in
  the Black Tower once more, and he was quite happy with it.
  The first thing that Rengar noticed when he walked into his room was the
  faint smell of a woman's perfume, telling him that someone had been in here
  while he had been away to clean. Fortunately, everything still looked the
  same as it had before he had left; the heron mark sword that he never used
  still hung on the wall opposite his bed, and the bed itself still looked as
  though it were ready to fall apart. Of course, the women who had been in this
  room before had never really complained about his bed that much...
  Suddenly there came a knock at his door, and after recovering from the
  surprise he had received from the sound Rengar went over and opened the door.
  Much to his surprise, it was Shala who strolled into his room, looking much
  more...visible than she had before. I suppose I've been gone longer than I
  realize, sometimes, Rengar thought to himself, trying to keep his eyes from
  lingering too long on one part of Shala's body. She's almost seven years
  younger than me, for Light's sake!
  "Ah, I was hoping to find you hear, Re- I mean, Asha'men Rengar," Shala said
  with a devious smile. Light, but she was beautiful! Rengar thought to
  himself, noticing for the first time the fine features of her face; her golden
  hair and dark green eyes. She did indeed look very different from the girl
  whom he had found in the village of Telgar on the mission before the one he
  had just returned from. She hadn't been the richest girl in that town, but
  now that she had been exposed to the Black Tower baths and such it was almost
  as though the old image of her had been peeled of with time like a layer on an
  onion, revealing a very different person now. "Would you care to join me on a
  walk around the Tower. While you've been away I've become...much more
  familiar with it."
  This new Shala had also seemed to change in terms of behavior as well, Rengar
  noticed as she took his hand in hers and led him out of his room. The
  somewhat frightened girl whom he had "recruited" out of Telgar would have
  never been this forward with him, and had always been timid and shy when
  approaching him.
  Of course, that shyness was no where to be seen as Shala brought him out into
  the practice yards, where Mura'shar and some other Asha'men and Dragonsworn
  were busy teaching. After the incident involving Kano Rengar still was not
  allowed to teach his own class of Dedicated and Soldiers, though he knew that
  Stevan would eventually give him another class. In fact, as he watched
  Mura'shar talking alone with another student, he was glad to be free of the
  responsibilities of having to try and contain the ambitions and eagerness that
  many new Soldiers and Dedicated brought to the classes.
  "So, how was your trip?" Shala asked, after guiding Rengar to the shade of
  one of the tall trees strewn about the courtyard, and sitting them both down
  under it. Rengar still didn't know why he was out here in the first place,
  since he was fairly sure that he had something else that he was supposed to
  attend to. "I wanted so much to come with you and the others, Rengar, but
  Marked Dragonsworn Tareena told me that I wasn't experienced enough to come.
  I wasn't to happy about that, but now you'll tell me all about it, won't
  you?"
  "I guess..." Rengar said, and he began with the events that were still fresh
  in his memory, since over the course of everything he had seen on the mission
  things that would have normally made a permanent imprint upon his memory had
  been replaced by things even more fantastic.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------
  After an hour or so of telling her exactly what had happened on their recent
  journey, Rengar's imagination began to get the better of him, and he began to
  go off on a tangent that had been totally unintended when he had first begun
  his narrative...
  Dead citizens of what had once been a proud city now laid scattered on the
  streets, without even being noticed by those few who were still able to walk
  at all. There were more important things at present than concern over those
  that had already passed away, Sarbonius realized as he walked through the
  streets with his head low, trying not to see all of the bodies littering the
  streets, all of them stinking with the smell of death and decomposition.
  Of course, he was at a loss to explain why he was walking the streets in the
  first place; he no longer had any position of power. None of the former
  members of the Senate had, ever since that body had been abolished over a year
  ago by the Leader and his mysterious confidant. That was when the plague had
  struck the city, killing thousands in the first few months and killing a
  steady stream of people after that, and it showed no signs of running it's
  course anytime soon. It was only by the grace of the Creator that Sarbonius
  could still walk these streets among those that had not been as fortunate,
  though at this point he felt more like joining the mass of bodies on the
  streets than anything else.
  As he raised his head for a moment he caught a glimpse of Avendesora, still
  standing in the center of the Majestic Garden, it's branches and leaves having
  become distorted by the evil that seemed to have afflicted them all. And as
  he put his head back down and walked away from the Garden, Sarbonoius could
  only wonder whether the plague would ever leave this place, and whether
  another generation would ever be able to sit under the leaves of the Tree of
  Life as it had existed before insanity had gripped this city. All Sarbonius
  could do was hope, he supposed.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------
  Shala seemed to be less concerned with how the story had gone than Rengar had
  expected, considering the she had asked me to give her an account in the first
  place. Instead, she couldn't seem to stop looking around, as if to see if
  anyone else was close enough to see them. After a few moments of this she
  seemed satisfied, and focused her attention back on him.
  "The way you tell it certainly makes me wish I was there," Shala said, edging
  closer to Rengar, enough so that he was fully aware of the heavy breaths Shala
  was now taking. He would have been a fool not to know what was going to come
  next, but in knowing what the immediate future held for him he couldn't
  decided whether or not to accept it. On the one hand, Shala might only be
  trying to explore feelings towards those of the opposite sex that had just
  begun to flower within her, while on the other hand she might be trying to see
  how far she could get with a man who was at least ten years her senior.
  "Shala, I love Odessa. You know that, don't you?" Rengar thought, though the
  thoughts seem to have formed into words that had then come out of his mouth.
  Shala looked startled for a moment, her blue eyes widening a bit as their
  current situation seemed to finally register with her. But just as quickly
  she recovered, and her lips were moving closer and closer to his, and at that
  moment Rengar had to admit that the thought of just one little kiss was
  becoming less and less of a threat to him.
  "I just want you to love me, Rengar. Not in the way Shalom does, but the
  kind of love I see all over the Tower. The kind that leaves to people
  constantly smiling at one another even though there is nothing to be happy
  about. The kind that two people get when they-" and without another word
  spoken their lips were merged together, and for what seemed like an infinite
  amount of time Rengar held his lips there, and brought his hands up her arms
  to her shoulders. But instead of taking that first step into a situation that
  Rengar had all to often experienced, her gently pushed Shala back, until their
  lips were no longer together and they were again facing one another.
  "Shala, I...can't do this. Not to you," Rengar said, looking into those sky
  blue eyes again, but this time with sorrow in his heart. He had gone down
  this path once to many times, and it was time for him to stop. "You don't
  know what you're getting yourself in to."
  "I think I know exactly what I'm getting myself into, Rengar al'Tomount. I'm
  approaching my seventeenth nameday, and I think I am old enough to decide with
  whom I wish to do this with. Are you afraid that others will discover us?
  Why do you care?" Shala asked, her voice starting to crack with the grief she
  was holding back. Rengar understood what it was like to be willing to take a
  relationship to the next level, only to be denied by the person he thought had
  wanted to take that step with him. "You don't love me, then?"
  "I do love you...but not in the way you may now think. You deserve the
  chance to find someone who will love you the way you want to be loved, and no
  other," Rengar said, releasing his hold on Shala and lifting her chin up with
  his hand. "Do you understand?"
  Shala nodded and rose, staring up at the blue sky. Rengar knew that even if
  he had words to say at that moment that it would be best to leave her alone
  for now, so he also rose, and made his way back into the Black Tower, where he
  hoped that he would be able to convince another woman of the same thing that
  Shala had tried to convince him this day. (That makes a lot of sense!)
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------
  Well, after reading Steven and Emily's RP I feel somewhat embarrassed in
  putting this one out there, but I suppose that it's better to get this written
  now than wait. Hopefully this RP will add to this already solid chain of RPs
  that we've been putting out since November 13 (as in the RPs relating to this
  last outline). Until the next one, I hope everyone has a good day.
  Kyle
  P.S. I have to go to the video store now to see if there are any copies of the
  Sixth Sense left. I'm doubting it at this point, though.

 
  Myiona, dressed in an elegant and somewhat modest dress, stepped
  through the gateway and back into her room. She directed the group of young
  men, some carrying instruments, through the door that led directly out into
  the courtyard. With a final look in the mirror, she walked out to mingle
  among the others gathered there.
  Myiona paused to speak with each of the novitiates and initiates at the
  gathering. She also smiled and said, "hello," to the dragonsworn. The
  party quickly picked up as the young men moving amid the women began leading
  them to the dance floor. The First Dragonsworn smiled and watched. She had
  no desire to dance or make merry. This was one of her duties, but the fun
  did not include her this evening.
  After watching for awhile, she slipped off into the garden to walk
  alone. The anger she had felt at her bondmate's "joke" had turned to a deep
  sadness. She realized that he did not trust her. In her mind he had
  likened her to one of the tavern girls who would spend the night with any
  man who had a coin. Myiona sighed and wondered what she was going to do
  about this situation.
  Their bond was, she felt, something good. They were able to guard each
  other's back well and most of the time were able to get along. It was the
  personal relationship that was the problem. Myiona had made the mistake of
  falling in love, something a woman like Myiona should never do. He had said
  that he loved her too, but his lack of trust proved otherwise.
  "It would be best," she murmured, "to end the personal relationship
  before we can no longer be even bondmates. Even now, if we were in battle,
  I would have a hard time fighting beside him. I will have to speak with
  him, I suppose, and tell him that I no longer wish to be more than his
  bondmate."
  Determination fuelling her, Myiona turned and went inside the Black
  Tower. She walked directly to her bondmate's room and stopped outside his
  door. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door and waited for him to
  respond.

 Duratan had thought he was in fairly good shape, but the sessions at the Black
  Tower left him exhausted. The training with weapons was familiar and was never
  more than he could handle. He did not consider himself a great swordsman, but
  he was adequate. It was the lessons with using the power in battle that left
  him as weak as a newborn baby. He had passed out once and was barely able to
  make it to his room after subsequent lessons.
  He was walking through the gardens when he saw Myiona. He headed toward her,
  but she seemed to be deep in thought. Not wanting to disturb her, he took a
  step back into the shadows. "It would be best," she murmured, "to end the
  personal relationship before we can no longer be even bondmates. Even now, if
  we were in battle, I would have a hard time fighting beside him. I will have to
  speak with him, I suppose, and tell him that I no longer wish to be more than
  his bondmate."
  He shook his head sadly knowing that someone was in for a bad night. Still, one
  man's loss could be his gain. He turned and headed back for his room, whistling
  a merry tune.

 Tareena moved down the corridor, her mind still flowing from one task to
  the next, trying to mentally list her duties for the upcoming days. As she
  moved past one of the doors, she thought she heard sobbing coming from within
  but couldn't be sure. She paused outside of the door, wondering what she
  should do. Part of her wanted to keep walking, ignore the sounds but another
  part of her felt great sympathy for whomever was feeling so horrible.
  Telling herself that part of her duties as Guardian was to ensure the welfare
  of everyone in the Tower, she took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
  Immediate quiet met her knock and no response was forth coming. With a sigh
  she began to turn away when the door opened and La'rece Barata'gan's pale
  face peeked through, a surprised expression on her face.
  "Hello La'rece. I am sorry to disturb you but...I couldn't help but
  hearing you. I don't mean to embarrass you but I thought...sometimes it is
  easier when you can share with someone else." Tareena knew she was handling
  this badly, unsure of what to say and not wanting to make it worse. It was
  just...she remembered night after night of lying alone, crying with no one to
  offer comfort or guidance. She did not wish this on anyone. Tareena knew
  that both of this woman's bondmates were gone. She could not begin to
  imagine the pain. Even in such a short time she had grown so used to
  Darren's presence and his security. Some of her thoughts must have been
  showing or else La'rece was at the breaking point but suddenly she just broke
  down once more, sobbing out her heartache and sorrow. Tareena led her to her
  sofa and they sat down, one Dragonsworn holding onto the other for comfort.
  Tears welled up in Tareena's eyes as she listened and absorbed some of the
  anguish and sorrow. After a lifetime but only a little while, the former
  green raised her tear streaked face and took a deep breath. "I..I..well,
  thank you Tareena. I guess I needed that." With an embarrassed shake of her
  head, she withdrew from Tareena's embrace and moved towards her mirror and
  nightstand, mechanically moving her hands to try and repair some of the
  damage. Tareena knew how she must feel, breaking down in front of someone
  else was hard. Hoping to ease the moment, Tareena suggested that maybe
  La'rece would like to join everyone in the courtyard for the women's
  gathering they were having that evening. At first she demurred, stating she
  didn't feel like joining but finally she said she might make it, just for a
  little while. "Please do" Tareena said. "It will be good for morale and
  will help the new members become aquatinted. We have all been gone for so
  long that it is hard to know everyone. I know I, for one, would love to have
  your company." Moving towards the door, Tareena stopped and turned around.
  "You know La'rece, I haven't made many friends since coming to the tower. I
  am shy about some things and find it hard to reach out or even take the time
  to get to know people. Where I grew up, ties and friendships were
  discouraged, to say the least. I guess what I am trying to say is I would
  like the chance to get to know you more and perhaps maybe find a friend?"
  With a last smile, Tareena turned and left the room, glad she had taken the
  chance on knocking. Humming softly to herself, she continued on to her own
  quarters, intent on taking a long bath and getting ready for the evenings
  festivities.
  Walking among the ladies of the Tower, Tareena felt a sense of well
  being. She had spoken to quite a few people tonight, becoming reacquainted
  with some, introducing herself to others. The food was excellent and the
  wine flowed freely, allowing everyone's tongues to loosen and the mood to be
  light. She had danced with numerous unknown men that Myiona had gated in
  from her aunt's estate. Nameless, faceless but with style and grace and
  enough flattery to put a spring in your step. Fleetingly she wondered where
  Darren was and what he had found to occupy his time tonight. Oh well, she
  would see him tomorrow she knew.
  Moving through the crowd once more, she began to feel the effects of the
  wine, although she hadn't had much, just three glasses or so. She began to
  feel the heat from the fire and the wine and to many people. With a glance
  over her shoulder to make sure everything was in good order, she slipped
  through the bushes and along the path to a smaller garden. The fragrant
  flowers and the smell of the leaves offered comfort and coolness. With a
  sigh, she sat down and leaned her head back against the rail of the bench and
  let the breeze caress her. Drifting in and out of awareness, she let her
  thoughts pick a pathway of their own, allowing them freedom and randomness
  that is such a luxury in their unstable world.
  Tareena came to with a start, feeling someone sitting next to her where
  no one had been before. For a long moment she stared, trying to gain back
  her equilibrium. She brushed at her skirts and tried to keep the embarrassed
  flush from creeping up her face. "How long have you been sitting there?" she
  asked, hoping against hope she had not drooled or snored in her sleep.
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  ---------------------------------------------Lauren, I hope it was okay to
  bring you into my RP :) I have always really liked your character and
  thought this might be a good chance to get to know her. Anyone can feel
  free to respond to this and be the person sitting next to me. Luke, who
  plays my bondmate, Darren Sadke, is out of commission for a while. His
  appendix burst and he was taken to the hospital. His father says he is doing
  much better but won't be able to get to the computer for quite some time.
  Lol....anyone want to come and play with a lovely Seanchan lady? ::grins:::
  Hey everyone, great job on the RP's lately, I have really looked forward to
  opening my mail and reading all of them!! Keep up the good work!

  Lisa
 
 
  It took a full hour of sorting through every gown she owned before La'rece
  Barata'gan could bring herself to select one. With a sigh she recalled her
  meeting with Tareena late that afternoon.

  "...You know La'rece, I haven't made many friends since coming to the tower. I
  am shy about some things and find it hard to reach out or even take the time to
  get to know people..."

  An intriguing young woman, Tareena. Seanchan. As a Green and as High Seat of
  House Barata'gan, La'rece had made a point of learning all she could about the
  mighty Seanchan, but she would never have imagined one of them befriending her.
  *Come on, woman, get over it already. Ivan and Janara are gone ... for now.
  Only for now, I hope. Light!*

  Shaking herself, the Marked Dragonsworn grabbed the last gown she had been
  holding and with new resolve began to get dressed for the Tower's party.

  *******
  The voice of several drums, fiddles and pipes filled the air with song as men
  and women danced and laughed. There was such an air of merriment in the Tower
  that La'rece could not help but smile.

  Pausing at the edge of the gathering, the Arafellan smoothed the front of her
  sapphire velvet gown. Patting her hair twisted back and held in place by combs
  in the likeness of two soaring bluebirds, rendered in silver, diamonds and
  sapphires, and checking the jewels about her neck, the Dragonsworn moved into
  the light...

  ****
  OOC: Okay, here I am ... if someone wants to dance. Otherwise, I'm gonna go
  find the punchbowl! :^P

  Thanks, Lisa!

 
  Mura'shar pulled on his boots and stood up. He was in the brand new
  outfit he intended to wear to the party. Of course, the only difference was
  that this outfit has never had any tears, rips, or stains in it from a
  mission or training exercises.
  This celebration certainly explained Myiona's absence recently. She had
  been back and forth from her families estates for days preparing for this
  evening. It was working up to be a spectacular event.
  Then why was Myiona feeling so sad now? And right outside his door?
  She knocked as he pulled on his coat. He hesitated a moment. There were
  a lot of conflicting emotions going on in her right now. Involving him. He
  knew what he said now would be important, on way or the other One way or the
  other what? He wasn't a people person and he knew it. He envied the easy
  way Myiona had around people.
  "Come in Myiona" he finally called. It was no use putting it off.
  Myiona opened the door, slipped in, and closed it behind her. Her dress
  was unusually modest for her, though it was quite becoming on her. The
  serious look on her face verified everything he had sensed, though.
  "I have to tell you something" she began. She was reciting her words like
  she had gone over them before, practicing for this moment. "I think it would
  be best for all of us if we remained bondmates. And there was nothing more
  between us" The words came out in a rush, like wanted to say them before she
  could change her mind.
  There was a moment of absolute silence between them. The moment
  stretched, then stretched further. The sounds of the festivities could be
  heard outside, but neither said a word nor looked away from each other.
  "I..." he started. Then paused. For a moment, he thought their bond had
  snapped with the saying of those words, he pain was that intense. She had
  said words like this before. Words shouted in anger, quickly recanted. But
  this time she was calm and collected. She had been thinking of this for some
  time.
  He tried to speak again "I, I can't believe I'm hearing this. Why? Have
  yo met someone else? That Duratan?" He knew he as sounding like a complete
  idiot, but the words were leaping out of his mouth as fast as the thoughts
  formed. This is how you get in trouble, by acting before you think. Now
  look where it's getting you!
  Myiona's face heated in suppressed anger "Of course not! This is why.
  You don't trust me! How can we continue like this if you can't trust me out
  of your site? You..." tears were forming and she couldn't go on for a
  moment, "
  I see..." He did see. Or he thought he did. It was that stupid prank
  he pulled. Mura'shar was far more modest than Myiona. He was Cairheinin,
  and of noble blood, if minor. He had very specific ideas of proper etiquette
  and behavior. Myiona's Domani upbringing was jarring to him, to say the
  least. He thought he could finally turn the tables on her for once, and look
  at how it turned out.
  "If, if that's what you really want, I won't stand in your way" He was
  surprised he didn't see his still-beating heart lying on the floor as he said
  those words. "But, please reconsider. I've made some stupid mistakes, but I
  do trust you. We've been through so much together, saved each other's lives I
  don't know how many times over. I just think sometimes you can act..." he
  didn't dare say scandalous or improper "'distracting' to other men. I've
  tried to accept it, but sometimes..."
  Myiona wasn't angry anymore. She was very, very sad though. "I'm sorry
  you feel that way" She said in a cold tone. But I can't change what I am
  just to suit your stuffy ways. And if after all this time you still can't
  accept me for what I am" she shrugged "maybe this is the best way. With that
  she opened the door and left.
  Mura'shar sat o his bed and stared at the door. Willing it to open
  again, and for her to come back. Did he just let her leave? Light-blinded
  fool! She's the best thing that happened to you since you discovered you can
  channel!
  In his mind, he ran through all the possible ways he could have done the
  last few minutes better. He could have fallen on his knees and begged
  forgiveness. He could have given her a crushing embrace and kissed her until
  she changed her mind. He could have promised her anything, and have meant it.
  He could have used the bond to compel her to stay, though he shied away from
  that though as soon as it formed. But no, he had to act the total fool. He
  hadn't even seen this coming!
  As he lay back on the bed, all thoughts of the party gone from his mind,
  he thought for the first time, that perhaps the madness of the taint would be
  a blessing. The Black Tower would see that his death would be painless.
  That was now something to look forward to.
  _________________________________________
  OOC tune in next time for another (melo)dramatic scene from "As the Wheel
  Turns" :-P

  Jake
  Marked Asha'Man

 After speaking with Mura'shar, Myiona walked slowly back through the
  halls. She had to pull herself together before she saw anyone else, but she
  did not know how. The Domani was tempted to go to her room and lock the
  door. She wanted to hide from everyone, but that would be cowardly. Taking
  a deep breath, she brought her emotions under control.
  By the time she reached the party again, Myiona was smiling and joking
  with the others. She even danced with several of the young men. Right now
  all she had to hang onto was her image and her position in the Tower. The
  First Dragonsworn moved among the others talking with them, complimenting
  one of her choice of a dress, telling another how nice her hair looked. She
  thought that everything was going to be fine, until the musicians started
  playing a song that she had danced to with Mura'shar.
  She could feel the tears forming in her eyes and could not bear for
  anyone to see her cry. Myiona turned and walked off into the darkness. She
  kept walking until she could not hear the sound of the music or the party.
  When she turned around, she could barely see a flickering of lights through
  the trees.
  "It would be so easy," she murmured, "to keep going like this and never
  go back. I do not know how I can stand what I had to do. He accepted it
  too easily, like it was what he really wanted. What did you expect? Did
  you really want him to beg and plead with you? You ended things, Myiona
  Shallon. Now you have to live with it and make the best of it. It is for
  the best really. Both of you have been in pain because you are too
  different. You have to let go of the childish notion of love and grow-up.
  You are a woman, now act like it."
  Myiona laughed, hoping no one was around listening. They would surely
  think she was crazy for talking to herself like that. The fact they might
  be right, was not at all comforting. She sat down, leaning back against the
  trunk of a tree and closed her eyes. She went through the meditations that
  she learned as a Novice to bring her mind and emotions back under control.
  It took her awhile to feel like she could go back without bursting into
  tears, but she finally got up and walked back to the Tower.
  The party was winding down. Most of the revellers had gone off to find
  their own beds. The young men were sitting around on the benches resting
  from their labor. "Well," Myiona said walking up to the leader, "I must
  admit that you have exceeded my expectations. I think I will double your
  pay this time. If you are all here, I can gate you back to my aunt's
  estate."
  Myiona opened a gateway and let the young men go through. She was
  exhausted, but afraid to go to her room and sleep. She began cleaning up
  the mess from the party. It was almost dawn when she finally went inside
  her room and crawled into the bed. She went to sleep immediately, letting
  it heal the hurts in her heart and mind.

  Vicky
  aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
  Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower
  breaker of hearts :-)

 Returning the smile of a handsome young man, La'rece chuckled to herself.
  Looking around, she was amazed at all the musicians and gaily dressed men and
  women. *Where in the world did the Tower acquire all these musicians?!*

  True the Tower had its share of talented men, but even as out of touch as she
  felt, the Dragonsworn was certain she would have noticed such a collection
  before. She and Ivan loved to dance, to music mostly, but she had not been
  above humming a tune and cajolling him into a step or two.

  Walking toward one of the tables containing a selection of food and beverages,
  La'rece overheard a young Novice, "... it's marvelous that Myiona arranged to
  bring musicians for a party! It feels like ages since I've attended a dance
  .."

  La'rece knew exactly what the Novice meant. So, it was Myiona who had brought
  in the musicians. Silently, La'rece toasted her fellow Dragonsworn and former
  Green, *Here's to Gateways and Travelling* The advent of Travelling had
  revolutionized the world. Now information could be shared almost in the instant
  and the Black Tower could directly, within reason, send its forces where needed
  in a moment. The Green's battle training never ceased working, turning her
  thoughts to strategy.

  Giving herself a shake, La'rece spotted a darkhaired young man with a
  well-turned calve and glided over to him. "Would you care to dance, young sir?"

  Lauren
  La'rece Barata'gan
  Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster
  Bondmate to Ivan and Janara (in abstentia)

 
  Stevan glanced around. The tide of Asha'man and Dragonsworn coming into the
  main hall of the Black Tower had almost ceased, and most of those who were
  already sitting on the benches provided were gazing impatiently towards him.
  Myiona stood beside him, strong and proud, ready to assist him in the
  Proving. After all, she was in command of the Dragonsworn.

  He nodded towards the new recruits Atia and Raileine who were beside the
  double door at the back, and they silently shut them, and then took up
  positions in front of each door, ensuring that no-one could come in without
  their permission. You always tended to get the menial jobs when you were
  new...

  The hall fell silent as Stevan stood and began to speak. He had grown more
  used to speaking to a crowd, and now he hardly felt any nerves as he spoke.
  "You have been gathered here to witness a Proving," he began, hoping his
  voice wasn't noticably quavering. "Someone has shown skill in the Power not
  worthy of their rank, and therefore they are deemed to be worthy to be
  Proven. I would like to call forward Shea."

  Almost if not believing it was her, it seemed to take an age before she got
  to her feet and made her way to the front, so she stood before him." "Shea,
  you were a Novitiate, new to the Tower and low in skill. Yet you have learned
  and grown. Through the mission in the Land of Madmen, Myiona and I watched
  you, and noticed how you absorbed new skills and relished in battle.
  Therefore, you have Proven yourself to be unworthy to be a Novitiate. I now
  ask Myiona to step forward and give you the sword pin, to designate that you
  are now an Initiate."

  The hall slowly ruptured into applause as Myiona stepped forwards, took a
  sword pin from her pocket and pinned it on Shea. Still hardly believing what
  had happened, she slowly made her way back to her seat. "You are dismissed."
  Stevan said loudly as he strode down the aisle in the middle of the hall, and
  Atia and Raileine opened the doors for him to leave. He stopped outside the
  door and spoke to the members of the War Council as they came out. "Meet me
  in my office after lunch. I have received news of a new mission that we must
  discuss."
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  -------------------------------------------

  Well done Rae!
  BTW I'll RP that meeting, so you might as well ignore it :)
 
 

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

 Stevan left Aramis with Genia and Atia, the two new recruits who had arrived
  just a couple of days ago. Stevan hadn't really had time to get to know them
  yet, and it would be interesting to see what Aramis made of them.

  He continued walking around the grounds, enjoying the fresh morning air. He
  was in a good mood, Proving someone always did that to him. Yet his pleasant
  mood suddenly turned to panic as he glanced at the sundial. Blood and ashes!
  I was supposed to meet Duratan a couple of minutes ago!

  He quickly ran over to the training grounds he had passed about ten minutes
  ago with Aramis to find Duratan looking impatient and slightly bored. "Sorry
  I'm late, Soldier Duratan. I had to show Asha'man Aramis around the Tower
  after his absense." He could tell from the Soldier's face that he wasn't
  impressed with Stevan's excuse. Well, it was rather poor...

  "Right, what we're going to learn today is Air. Most men aren't too strong in
  Air, but luckily for you, I'm one of the exceptions. However, don't feel bad
  if you find it difficult, it's normal. We'll find out where your strengths
  lie as you spend more time practicing and learning with an Asha'man."

  Stevan went over to the wall and put five targets along it, each heavier and
  harder to move than the last. The stronger Duratan is in Air, the heavier the
  target he'll be able to knock off. "So, go for it. I don't care how you do
  it, but just try and knock those targets off with Air!"
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------
 

  Steve
  <><

 
  Dancing lights, silver notes, and voices of glee filled the air. To the
  side of all the commotion, as usual sat Raileine. She kicked at the door with
  her slipper, head in her hands, resting on her knees. She wasn't one for
  social calls, or social gatherings for that matter. After her years of
  struggling at the White Tower, she'd built a wall between herself and other
  channelers. To Raileine, the channelers had succeeded in something she'd
  failed at.. embracing the source. *That's silly Rai. Envious because they can
  embrace the source..* She'd tell herself. But that never quenched her
  jealousy.
  Sitting not far away from Raileine was someone in a similar boat.
  Gratainasil had just sat down from dancing and she tied her hair back with a
  ribbon. Atia was excited, never had they had anything such as a party back at
  the White Tower, and she'd always loved to dance. Atia looked over at the
  other girl playing with dirt and recalled her as Raileine, also a runaway
  from the White Tower. She got up from her seat and then sat right back down
  next to Raileine. The other girl looked slightly surprised. "Hi, I'm
  Gratianasil, they call me Atia though." She extended her hand.
  "I know." Was the only reply she got from the other girl, who almost
  shunned her hand away, but gently shook it instead. Atia grabbed her hands
  and dragged her to her feet.
  "C'mon, dance." She said smiling at the obviously older woman. Raileine
  cocked an eyebrow at her, but Atia urged her on. "C'mon, and don't tell me
  you don't want to interact with people, I know the whole thing." Rai was
  still hesitating. "And don't tell me about your block or complain, I as well
  have one." Finally Raileine gave in and decided to get up and learn how to
  dance.
  Atia taught her a few dances from her homeland, which was obviously
  Sheinar from her appearance and manner. Raileine was having fun and twirling,
  dancing and anything else she could. Finally she all but collapsed on the
  ground with Atia. "So... you know I'm from Shienar, but I have no clue where
  you're from, and I almost always know." Atia said, while Raileine caught her
  breath.
  "I grew up in Caemlyn..." This brought shock out of Atia. "My father was
  a Warder and my mother an Aes Sedai, 2 of my sisters are Aes Sedai..." She
  trailed off, fiddling with her skirts. "My family line is so mixed up with
  different land's blood that even I don't know what I am," She shrugged and
  before she had a second longer to catch her breath Atia had dragged her to
  her feet again.
  "Do you know the sa'sara?" Raileine gapped openly and Atia grabbed her
  arm to drag her off to teach her. Raileine's face was more red than any fine
  dye she'd seen before.

  -*-*-*-*-
  Jamie & Kate
  Raileine & Gratianasil

  HA! I did it.. I overcomed my block ::looks at it:: obviously my muse is MiA
  though...

 A flash of light reflected off of her new pin, and Shea winced and closed her
  eyes for a brief moment before opening them again and grinning. The silver
  sword was not exquisitely worked, but it meant more to her than an intricate
  diamond ring might have. Finally, an Initiate. Solemnly she pinned it on
  over her heart. The sloping, collarless neck of her dress provided no good
  place for a pin. Shea mused over the idea of getting a necklace made with
  the Initiate's sword as a charm.
  That could all be taken care of later, however. Shea gathered the full
  skirt of her unrelentingly black dress in her two hands, trying to shrink its
  inherent poofiness by pressing it against her body. After months of wearing
  regulation trousers and coat, the ornamental gown felt very wrong and
  hopelessly awkward. It was, however, a dance, and she certainly couldn't
  show up at a dance wearing pants! Reaching a compromise with herself, Shea
  had sacrificed the function of her uniform but had maintained its general
  idea, choosing a close-fitting black ball gown that both displayed her assets
  in the best way possible, and warned the observer to keep a respectful berth.
  She patted her conspiciously present belt knife, and made her way over to
  the refreshment table.
  Carefully, she poured herself a glass of something red and otherwise
  quite unidentifiable. Shea tested it with a small, tentative sip. It
  was...different. She shrugged. "Whatever," she muttered, and turned to go
  back to her spot on the wall. Now that the novelty of her new rank was
  wearing off, Shea was finding herself in an alarmingly familiar position --
  the girl who didn't know anyone. At a dance. She rolled her pale green eyes
  heavenward, but they came down a moment too soon; Shea had already managed to
  walk straight into somebody else. "I'm so sorry!" she cried, diving for a
  napkin. The red drink that she had been so negligently holding had spilled
  -- a little on herself, more on the other person. The blonde Initiate
  grimaced. This party was turning out very enjoyable, indeed.

  ::grins evilly:: Anybody want to be my victim?

  Rae / Shea (they rhyme, see...)
  Initiate! Wahoo!

 "So, go for it," Stevan said stepping back from the targets. "I don't care how
  you do it, but just try and knock those targets off with Air!"
  Duratan looked at the targets closely and tried to determine the quickest and
  most effective method of completing the task at hand. Saidin filled him as he
  looked around the practice yard to find anything he could use.
  Knocking them down one at a time would be tiring and would waste time. He knew
  that a sharp mind was a powerful weapon. He was about to turn back and do
  things slowly when he found something he could use.
  Gritting his teeth, Duratan used air to lift a broken limb from a nearby tree.
  It was not a large limb, but it would work if he could manipulate the air the
  way he planned. While the limb was floating toward the targets, he built a
  swirling undercurrent to start the limb spinning. He poured more and more power
  into the spinning action until the limb crashed into the targets. The first
  three fell over immediately leaving one wobbling back and forth before it
  tumbled over. The limb spun one more time contacting with the largest target.
  Duratan gritted his teeth holding tightly on the weave of air. The limb
  splintered against the last target and fell to the ground in front of it.
  The cracking sound of the branch filled his head and he almost loosed his hold
  on the power. Instead, he increased the speed of the swirling air and slammed
  it against the target. The object began moving slightly, barely perceptible to
  his eyes. Since that tactic was not working, he decided to attack from another
  direction.
  Duratan heated the air between the stones that were supporting the target. As
  the air heated it expanded and caused the stone to move. The target wobbled
  and fell over onto the ground. The soldier gasped and released Saidin, feeling
  like he had spent the whole day in battle. He looked up at his instructor
  waiting for his appraisal.

 Luthar approached a commotion, encased in his flowing black cloak he
  stood silently watching. He had been here not to long, but from his
  obsevation it seemed they were celebrating something. So far as to what he
  did not know. The day so far had been a search, he felt he needed to find
  the woman whom helped him. So far he knew her name and just a general
  situation of her rank it seemed. He knew not to delve much further lest he
  seem conspicious.
  Luthar scanned around seeing if he could see her through the night sky(it
  is night, right?; I can't remember). He didn't see her so he decided to
  approach and get a better look, hoping he was welcomed at this gathering.
  Luthar walk silently to the side of the gathering, keeping to the shadows, a
  habit he could never get out of. After scanning the area he found nothing
  thus feeling defeated he stepped to a bench and sat down deep in thought.
  Out of the night, he heard the voice, "how long have you been sitting
  there?"
  Startled he stated, "Uh what?" Then he stammered, "Oh not too long, but
  the question is how long have you been here for I could have swore no one
  was sitting here when I sat down?"
  Luthar finally looking up at the owner of the voice, none other than
  Dragonsworn Tareena De'Havilan, Luthar sputtered out, "Ah I am sorry, my
  lady, I had no right to question you. It seems I am more indebted to you,
  my lady."

  ~Ed
  Thus completely stuck on what to say next, he hits the send button. hehe :)
  oh yeah btw i hope i didn't butcher the name, ::crosses fingers::

 Alan was just walking around listening to the music, and enjoying the
  small respite that the Black Tower was having. He was looking at a couple
  twirl around the dance floor when someone bumped into him. Alan then felt a
  wetness on the breast of his black jacket. Looking down he saw a stain
  spreading across his clothes. Looking at the person in front of him, he
  noticed it was Shea...she had just been promoted. She started to stutter an
  apology, but Alan forestalled her and instead offered his arm. Maybe she
  would dance with him. The young Tsvoron M'Hael thought maybe she would
  grace his arm for a dance in apology for the little accident....
  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  Okay yall, i just got back from spring break and am trying to get in the
  flow of things. i apologize for the shortness of the rp but i have to iron
  my uniform and polish my shoes for tomorrow....check ya later
  Joe

 Laughing, La'rece Barata'gan swept to a nearby bench to take a break from the
  dancing she had so energetically engaged in ... *so much for your depression,
  woman!* With a rueful chuckle and and a sigh, more of exhaustion than remorse,
  the Dragonsworn watched the spinning couples.

  Two couples in particular caught the Arafellan's attention. The first were two
  of the newer members of the Tower, Novices La'rece believed, one teaching the
  other to dance. Raileine and, if La'rece recalled correctly, Gratianasil. Both
  were runaways from the White Tower. The former Green could well appreciate the
  desire to run from the White Tower. She herself had run away no fewer than
  three times, more often than not to go assist her father's armies in Arafel. "As
  though to the manner born ..." La'rece quoted softly to herself.

  It was the second couple that La'rece watched serriptiously, not wanting to seem
  to gawk. Young Alan, the Tsorovan'm'hael, had coaxed the newly promoted Shea
  onto the dance floor. The Green smiled as the pair whirled by the bench on
  which she sat.

  Glancing to her right, La'rece caught sight of Tareena De'Haviland, who had been
  present at the Dragonsworn's low point that morning ... and who, through her
  warm offering of friendship, had made La'rece feel encouraged to get back to the
  business at hand ... living!

  Rising to her feet, La'rece waved a goodnight to several of the Tower members
  and started back to her rooms. Feeling a little chilled, La'rece regretted not
  having brought a shawl with her.

  Arriving at the doors to her rooms, La'rece paused with her hand on the knob.
  Someone was behind her, down the hallway. She had been aware of the individual
  for some time but let it be ... now the person seemed to be hesitating or
  waiting. The battletrained Green, a blademaster *without her sword! Light!*,
  felt relatively certain there was no threat to be found ... all the same ...

  Without turning her head, La'rece opened the door and asked the ... person if
  they would care to join her for a cup of tea.

  *****
  OOC: It's pretty much open for anyone to be the unexpected guest ... got
  something to talk out? ... Otherwise, I can continue from here ...

  Lauren
  La'rece Barata'gan
  Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 After a couple of hours of feeling sorry for himself, Mura'shar realized
  that he may be missed at the party. Not feeling up to it, but obligated to at
  least put on an appearance, he straightened up and left his quarters to join
  he festivities. He could use a drink anyway, he decided.
  Outside, he realized hat nobody would have missed him if he burst into
  flames unless he did so in the middle of the dance floor. Everyone was
  laughing, shouting dancing, and making merry. He didn't see Myiona around,
  but knew she was out there. She did love to dance. Fighting down a lump in
  his throat, he headed for the punch bowl and a quick drink.
  While he was sipping a drink he observed the couple dancing and the knots
  of men and women congregating, talking to each other and laughing. He waved
  back when they waved to him and occasionally spoke a word or two. But for the
  most part he stood alone.
  He observed one Dragonsworn stand up and head back to her quarters.
  La'rece Barata'gan. He didn't know her well, though he knew a bit about her.
  She lost both her bondmates recently. He could only imagine the pain she
  went through. Was probably still going through however well she masked it.
  At least his was still her at the Black Tower. He could still talk to her,
  if awkwardly.
  Not really knowing why, he set his cup down and followed her. She was
  taller than he was, and had a quick pace. Se had nearly reached her rooms
  she and she hadn't even realized he was there.
  Mura'shar paused. What was he doing? You need someone to talk to he
  thought to himself. The situation between he and Myiona will be obvious to
  everyone soon enough. If he could just tell someone about it, maybe he'll
  feel better about it. Maybe. Or maybe he'll just make a fool of himself,
  acting like a love-sick child. Maybe he should deal with this on his own...
  He still hadn't decided if he should go or stay when La'rece opened the
  door and, without even turning her head, called out "Would you care to join
  me for a cup of tea?"
  She knew he was there? For how long? Realizing his dilemma had been
  solved for him, he crossed the hallway and stepped through the door
  "If it isn't too much trouble" Mura'shar said. "I saw you leave the
  party and thought I could talk to you in private. I have a problem and need
  some advice..."
  As they drank their tea, Mura'shar quickly outlined his last conversation
  with Myiona and the events leading up to it. He wasn't used to pouring his
  heart out, but once he stated it was suprisingly easy to do.
  _______________________________________

  OOC and this is where I stop because this was more or less a spur of the
  moment rp and I don't know what else to write:)

  Jake
  Marked Asha'man

 
  Staring into the full-length, glass mirror on the back of her door (her one
  concession to personal furnishings) Ariana frowned at her image. She wasn't
  entirely sure why she was going to the party anyway; why was she fretting
  over what to wear? Well, since it's in celebration of the mission, I suppose
  I could dress 'in uniform' so to speak... She found, in the back of her
  closet, a simple black dress of silk, not too badly crushed by its time
  wedged in the back of the small closet space. I always seem to end up
  ironing my ball gowns with the Power, she thought ruefully, remembering the
  last time the Tower had held a celebration. As she recalled, she'd had to
  emergency-treat that dress, too. "I've invented a new weave," she told her
  own reflected face. "But is it a miraculous healing weave? A great weapon?
  No, the most gradiose thing I can do is remove the wrinkles from abused
  clothes!" Her reflection smiled at the image that conjured- a skinny 'Aes
  Sedai ' in a large turban, sitting in front of a tent with a hand- lettered
  sign, "See the Marvels of the One Power" waiting for fools to part from their
  money.
  She climbed awkwardly into the dress, then looked down. Though modest, it
  had no collar; where to put her pins? Her smile grew wider as the answer
  came to her. It would be... different, but it would be interesting. She
  fetched them out of the small jeweled, black laquered box (the creation of
  her own hands) and placed the sword where her left earring would be, and the
  Dragon in the other. Then she turned and grinned at her reflection. The
  chestnut fall of her hair half-obscured them, but the outlines were visible.
  Shoes, and then she was ready to leave; once outside, she followed the lights
  and sounds of laughter. She told herself she had promised to go to this, and
  she held to her word, Oaths or no. Though the temptation to run back and
  spend the evening ensconced in "her" clearing, playing the harp alone was
  very strong. No! I said I would go, and I will. Of course, she hadn't said
  how long she'd stay...
  When she finally reached the source of the noise, the Healer slipped into the
  graceful swirl of the party unnoticed. Though she might be a noblewoman by
  birth, she had never seen the court, but she rather imagined this was what it
  would be like. Ariana sighed and went to find something to do. Maybe she
  should go find the new Initiate and congratulate her... When she finally saw
  her, though, she was in the middle of dancing. Ariana smiled and watched for
  a moment, something that was not quite wistfulness tugging at her insides.
  Courts were not the only thing she was ignorant of; she couldn't dance,
  either. But the feeling was something she was used to, and after a while
  she squelched it and moved on. Surely there was something to do.
  ~Erin/Ariana
  The Antisocial One... Usually

 Gratianasil was having the night of her life and she'd dragged the other
  White Tower runaway to join her. The two girls were very much alike and Atia
  knew that a deep friendship would be founded, but on marshy grounds at first.
  Though Atia's friendships were always sturdied within time. Atia had always had
  a thing for telling people by their first meetings and she could tell that
  Raileine was a strong willed woman. After teaching her the sa'sara Atia felt
  revived and refreshed. Raileine looked like she'd been sitting in the sun for
  much much too long, and Atia smirked.
  "What's wrong?" She asked the Andoran. Though Raileine has little aspects of
  her Andoran background, Atia still called her by the honorary title. "You look
  like you've dropped your dress in front of a crowd of thousands, rather than
  just danced a dance with a new-found friend." Raileine's face turned from the
  rosy red to a soft pink and she offered Atia a smile. They linked arms and went
  to sit down again.
  "So.. you're family is mostly Aes Sedai, you say?" She asked, fiddling with
  some dirt around her shoes. Raileine nodded curtly. "You don't talk much, do
  you?" She teased, pushing Raileine slightly. She only shrugged and then Atia
  pushed her off the seat she'd been sitting on. Raileine splattered her clean
  dress with dirt, but was laughing instead. "Hey, I got something out of you
  there," She said teasingly. Then she let Raileine sit there while she went off
  in search of a male partner to dance with. Raileine merely watched the other
  girl, then she leaned back on the ground where Atia had pushed her and stared up
  into the stars.
 

  ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
  *smirks at Jamie* What? Can't I have any fun?
  Oh, and P.S. My Carpal Tunnel is almost healed for those that knew about it, and
  those that didn't well.. I had/have Carpal Tunnel =/

  ~*Kate*~
  Gratianasil Wysee

 Myiona awoke after the sun had already been up for several hours. She
  dressed quickly and fixed some tea while going over the papers on her desk.
  It took her awhile to work the stack that seemed to grow larger each day.
  With a sigh, she finished up and pushed the papers aside. Scree was
  standing outside the door to run the papers to the proper places.
  Myiona smiled at the young girl as she handed her the stack of
  documents. A few minutes later a knock sounded at the door. The
  Dragonsworn opened it to admit the woman from the kitchen bringing up lunch.
  After thanking her, Myiona sat down to wait for the arrival of Ariana.
  She was surprised when the Healer walked in a few minutes late. After
  she explained what had happened, Myiona told her that it was okay. They sat
  down and ate, discussing the plans for the infirmary.
  "You have done an excellent job," the First Dragonsworn said. "I knew
  you were the person to hand this project over to as soon as the idea came to
  me. I have had to push a bit to get the builders to move quickly on the
  projects that were needed, but they seem to realize what is needed now. The
  Infirmary was my idea, but I believe it is something we really need given
  our size and potential wounds during missions."
  Myiona smiled and poured Ariana another cup of tea. "Now," she
  continued, "I would like to make things more personal for awhile. Can you
  tell me about your leg? I know that you are sensitive about being able to
  keep up, but if there is any way I can help..."
 

  Later, Myiona had someone gather all of the novitiates gather to meet
  with her in the courtyard. The Domani looked around the group slowly,
  taking the measure of each young woman sitting. "I am happy to welcome you
  all to the tower," she said. "My position here is that of First
  Dragonsworn. What that means is that I am the person who decides when you
  are ready to be moved up the ranks, what training you should have, and what
  punishments are given when you break the rules. I want you to know that I
  am not fond of giving punishments, and you would really have to do something
  terrible to get in trouble with me. However, some of the male officers are
  a bit more strict. If they catch you doing something inappropriate, I will
  be forced to act."
  "I would like to pair each of you with a Dragonsworn to help you learn
  to fit into the Black Tower," she continued. "They will be working with
  those of you who have not learned to control your use of the power. Some of
  you will be familiar with some of our methods that are similar to the White
  Tower. However, we do not coddle or beg our people to channel. We force
  them to. If you have a block, we will find a way to break it."
  "Now, when I call your name I will tell you who the Dragonsworn is that
  you are to work with," Myiona finished. "It is your responsibility to find
  them within the hour and begin your training. Genia, you will be working
  with Alcinia. She can usually be found sitting in a tree or sneaking around
  spying on people. She is, however, an accomplished channeler and can teach
  you what you need to know. Gratianasil, you will be working with Ariana.
  She is our resident healer and can be found in her rooms or in the stables.
  Raileine, you will be with La'rece. I am not sure where to look for her,
  but I would suggest beginning at her room. Ritania, you will be working
  with Tareena. She is Guardian and most skilled in battle warfare. I know
  you will find her a challenge. My door is always open to you if you have a
  problem or need someone to talk with. Okay, ladies get moving."

 Genia looked around at the novitiates, wondering what she'd gotten herself
  into this time.
  "I am happy to welcome you all to the tower," a woman with long black hair
  and dark eyes said. She explained some of the rules and procedures of the
  Black Tower. Genia sighed. All this was very boring...
  "I would like to pair each of you with a Dragonsworn to help you learn to
  fit into the Black Tower," she continued. "They will be working with those
  of you who have not learned to control your use of the power."
  "Genia, you will be working with Alcinia. She can usually be found sitting
  in a tree or sneaking around spying on people. She is, however, an
  accomplished channeler and can teach you what you need to know."
  Genia looked up when she heard her name. 'Now what have I missed?' she
  wondered. 'Alcinia... She must be the Dragonsworn I am to work with. And
  she said something about a tree...'
  The First Dragonsworn told them to get moving. Genia waited as the rest of
  the novitiates left then walked up to speak with the dragonsworn.
  "Is there something you didn't understand?" she asked looking at Genia.
  "Uhh..." Genia stammered. "I'm not sure that I'm going to stay at the Black
  Tower."
  "Well," the dragonsworn said, "you have two choices, the White Tower or the
  Black Tower. You need training to make sure you don't kill yourself
  learning how to use the power. After you're trained, you can go wherever
  you want as far as I'm concerned."
  Genia blinked, "The White... Tower? I wouldn't hang out with those witches
  if someone paid me to!"
  Myiona's laugh startled her. "My sentiments exactly," she said turning and
  walking away.
  Genia started to call after her but then decided she should at least give it
  a chance. Besides, she would rather be here anyday than serve as a novice
  at the White Tower.
  She started walking, looking up at every tree she passed until she saw a
  young woman sitting in a tree. "Are you Alcinia?" she yelled up. "I was
  told that I could find you in a tree. What are you, half squirrel?"

  Beth

 

  Collin stared at the people walking around him. They were all going about
  their normal lives, and even though their lives held no surprises, they were
  happy. He sighed. There had been a big surprise in store for him, however. A
  channeler ... He could channel the one source, the male half Saidin. But
  still, he couldn't allow himself to go crazy about it. He had to find a way to
  train in it, and the only hope was the Black Tower, where the Asha'men lived.
  He closed his eyes, remembering his good-bye ...
  --"Good-bye, little brother," the blonde haired woman in front of him said,
  smiling gently. "We shall all miss you, but we know that it will be for the
  best."
  The dark haired girl smiled and winked mischievously. "Don't get into
  trouble," she warned. "And DO find a girl-"
  The young woman with brown hair stopped her with one look. "Collin," she said,
  "we will all miss you very much. Don't let yourself die, for we shall all miss
  you terribly if you do."
  "Bye Collin," the last girl said, hugging him tightly. "Write to us every day
  and tell us what's going on, and do visit once in a while!"
  They all stood aside as a tall man with light brown hair walked towards Collin.
  "I don't want you to go," he said, quietly and firmly, "but I know that it is
  the only possible solution." He smiled and hugged Collin. "Do write us, son.
  I hope that it will not be long before you are able to come back to us."
  Collin smiled. "I will miss you all very much. But I have to do this, for if
  I stayed here I might destroy you all with the power. I promise that I'll
  write, even if I am not able to do it every day. Good-bye," he said smiling,
  and walked out the walkway towards the street.--
  Collin smiled, remembering all five loving faces. He sighed. "I won't find
  the Black Tower here in Caemlyn," he muttered to himself. "They wouldn't have
  it in the middle of a big city." He looked up at the sky and frowned. "It's
  getting dark. I should stop for the night and continue in the morning."
  He headed to the hotel that his father had topld him to stay at if he needed
  to get a room. "Hello," he said to the woman who greeted him, "I would like a
  room here please."
  "Hmm ..." the woman said, looking at him. She took in his nice clothes and
  smiled. "I know just what you need," she said in a light voice.
  "Okay," Collin said, willing to let her take care of his room.
  After paying for his room and dinner, he headed to the common room.
  There was the regular, women and men, dancing and music ... and a group of
  five women. Oddly enough, they all looked completely different.
  As soon as he had walked into the room, five pairs of eyes glued to him. One
  of the women wore a red shawl, two wore a green, another wore a blue, and the
  last wore a yellow.
  Collin understood the meaning of the shawls. These were Aes Sedai. He
  tensed as the Red's eyes bore two holes into him. The Greens walked up to him,
  followed by the Yellow and Blue, and lastly the Red.
  "Hello there!" one of the greens said, a smile on her face. "I'm Asani."
  "Hello, my name is Nita," the other green said, twisting one golden lock
  around her finger.
  The others caught up with the two Greens.
  "Say, want to dance?" Nita asked, smiling.
  "Hey, I got here first!" Asani said, narrowing her eyes at Nita.
  "Will you two stop bickering!" the blue exclaimed. "Hello, I am Dessi."
  "I'm Maena," the Yellow said, smiling motherly.
  The Red snarled, looking over Collin harshly, as if searching for flaws.
  "DESSI!" both Nita and Asani exclaimed at the same time.
  The Red's eyes widened then returned to normal. "Nita, Asani, Dessi, Maena!"
  she hissed and motioned for all of the four women to huddle closer to her.
  Although he hadn't intended to spy on them, Collin heard what they were
  saying.
  "That guy is one of those male channelers!" the Red hissed.
  "Hmm ..." the Blue, Dessi, said. "That kid does seem kind of strange ..."
  "Oh Karla, you're ALWAYS looking for guys that could possibly channel, and
  most of the time you're wrong anyway," Nita said.
  "Well, you two shouldn't try to flirt with every guy that comes our way," the
  Red, who Nita had called Karla, said.
  "Oh come on Karla, give us a break," Asani said, "you're always stopping us
  from having any fun. If it weren't for you, we'd have Warders by now!"
  "Oh, poor kid," Maena said, "I bet he doesn't have any parents or anything
  .. And here you all are talking bad about him ..."
  "MAENA!" the blue and two greens shouted at the same time.
  Collin shook his head and turned away from them. ~How could they know,~ he
  wondered. ~I haven't acted in the least bit strange ... Or have I?~
  It didn't take a few minutes for all of the Aes Sedai to break up then, one
  by one, they hurried back to where he was. The Greens tried to talk him into
  going back to the Tower with them to train as a Warder and then tried to get him
  to dance with them, the Red and the Blue tried to get everything out of him, and
  the yellow was trying to get them all away and to ... mother him?
  Collin sat back in his seat, trying not to appear rude, but at the same
  moment wishing that he were anywhere but there. ~I shouldn't have stayed here
  for the night!~ he thought in the back of his mind.
  Two hours later...
  Collin grimaced, wondering if there was possibly a way to get away from these
  women. Suddenly a chance appeared.
  "May I get you ladies anything?" a woman asked, smiling. She sent a look at
  Collin and winked at him, giving him the much needed get-away.
  While the five Aes Sedai were trying to convince the waitress that they
  didn't need or want anything, Collin left.
  "I should keep going," he said, "they might decide to come after me, figuring
  that I had something to hid because I left ..."
  Inside he was sad that he had appeared so rude by leaving like that, but was
  relieved at the same time.
  He left the city and walked in one direction. He couldn't be certain if he
  heard people behind him or not, but he wanted to get as far away form those Aes
  Sedai as possible. He didn't know that Aes Sedai acted that way. He had
  thought that they were supposed to be more ... serious and cold.
  It wasn't long before he had to stop and take a small rest. He closed his
  eyes and rested against a tree. Well, hopefully they wouldn't catch up with him
  for a while.
  He opened his eyes as he heard footsteps nearby. He scanned the area, but
  didn't move fast enough, for two pair of hands grabbed him.
  "I thought I heard someone walking nearby," one of the men said.
  Collin turned his head to try and get a good look at the two men holding him.
  "Who sent you?" the other asked.
  Collin stared blankly at him.
  "Who sent you to spy on us!?" he demanded.
  Collin frowned and said, "I wasn't spying on yo-"
  "We know what you were doing, just answer the question and maybe the penalty
  will be a bit easier," the first guy said.
  The two talked for a moment, the nodded. "You're going to see Stevan (I'm
  not sure, is he the M'Hael here in the role play?). He'll get the truth out of
  you."
  Collin knew that they were wrong, that he wasn't a spy, but something told
  him that he shouldn't fight against these people, so he let them take him to
  this Stevan person.
  It wasn't long before he found himself in an office-like place.
  "Sir, this boy is a spy," the first guy said.
  "We caught him in the act, sir," the second said.
  Collin opened his mouth to object, then thought otherwise. He sighed and
  waited patiently for whatever was to come.

  I was not sure if Stevan is M'hael in the role play, so I didn't say anything
  about that ... Anyway, the two Asha'men are Mura'shar and Rengar. :) Well,
  I'll be going ... I've got to get a bit more sleep before school tommorow.
  Goodnight everyone!

  Nick Grey
  AKA Collin

 "Now Rengar, Mur'Shar, is that anyway to treat a new soldier? Actually
  Steven, it looks more like he was lost and trying to find us. Isn't that so?"
  An older man stepped out from the shadows of a lage bookcase, discreetly
  slipping a small book into an overstuffed jacket pocket. Ink stains abound on
  his fingers, and a small set of wire rimed glass sits upon his nose. By his
  height one can easily assume he is Cairheinian, and his accent finalizes the
  matter.
  "How do you do lad, I am Xyranthes, a Marked Asha'man and chief librarian
  here, and you are?"

  (OOC: once we kept the M'hael the same as he was in the books, don't know if
  that's true anymore, but I think it is. If that is so, then Steven is just a
  high ranking Marked Asha'man, who commands the Storm Teams. Ahh, the pains of
  a poor memory. : )

  Peter
  <><

 Alcinia had helped take the injured woman back to the Tower and then had found
  out about the party. She was not sure if she wanted to go since parties tended
  to make her nervous.
  She stopped in at the party to grab a bite to eat and saw the young men dancing
  with the others. She was tempted to dance, just so one would look at her the
  way they looked at their partners. She could tell it was all put on, being a
  master of it herself. Finally, she went back to her room and went to bed early.
  The next day, she spent the morning on the practice grounds training with her
  knives and trying to learn to use the sword. She knew it was very unlikely that
  someone of her small stature would ever be good enough to use one in battle, but
  she kept trying.
  After lunch, Alcinia decided to get a good view of what was going on at the
  Tower. She climbed up in a tree and watched some of the men working out. She
  could not help but be impressed by their greater strength and power. She even
  thought a couple of them were almost handsome. She was admiring a man with a
  particularly broad set of shoulders when she heard someone walking below the
  tree.
  The young girl they had found down by the river was looking up at her. "Are you
  Alcinia?" she yelled up. "I was told that I could find you in a tree. What are
  you, half squirrel?"
  Alcinia laughed as she dropped to the ground, landing in front of the girl. She
  explained, "I like to get up high to see what is going on. It is a habit I made
  before I came to the tower. Some of the people get nervous when I start
  climbing the buildings. Trees are not quite as high, or as exciting to climb,
  but they are good enough."
  "You must be the Novitiate that Myiona assigned to me," Alcinia said. "I had a
  feeling she would do this to me. Well, would you rather practice indoors or
  outdoors?"

 The girl laughed as she jumped to the ground. "I like to get up high to see
  what is going on. It is a habit I made before I came to the tower. Some of
  the people get nervous when I start climbing the buildings. Trees are not
  quite as high, or as exciting to climb, but they are good enough."
  "You must be the Novitiate that Myiona assigned to me," Alcinia said. "I
  had a feeling she would do this to me. Well, would you rather practice
  indoors or outdoors?"
  "I would rather practice outdoors," Genia replied. "Besides, outside we can
  practice farther away from others."
  They walked to a thick group of trees and sat down. Alcinia asked, "Tell me
  a little about yourself."
  "I am from Caemlyn and my family runs an inn there," Genia replied. "I
  wanted to see the world, so I left and ended up here. I didn't know I could
  channel until I came here."

  Beth

 The tea was hot and strangely soothing after the day's events. As the hour grew
  later, La'rece listened intently as Mura'shar recounted his situation with his
  bondmate, Myiona.

  Myiona, First Dragonsworn, was a Domani. *Proud women, the Domani* the
  Arafellan thought ruefully. One of her closest friends from the White Tower,
  Shaina Ambral, a Green sister as La'rece had been, was always an education to
  observe in her dealings with men and her opinions on how they should be dealt
  with. La'rece, in many regards, didn't find her philosophy so far off the mark.
  The problem here was that Mura'shar either still had no notion of a Domani's
  temperament (or any woman's for that matter. The jest with disguising himself as
  the M'Hael would have earned him no few bruises from La'rece herself, given the
  right circumstances) or the man was intentionally trying to distance himself
  from Myiona and felt that aggravation and teasing were acceptable means to doing
  so ...

  "... and so, now we are to be ... simply bondmates" the Asha'man said with a
  growl. La'rece watched as a small crack appeared on the cup the man held, some
  of the finest jade-colored SeaFolk china made. The cup shattered into pieces.
  There was a pause before it suddenly dawned on Mura'shar what had just happened.
  He hastily stood and apologized, promising to replace the cup. La'rece waved him
  back to his seat. "It's a cup, Mura'shar. Easily replaced." Channelling, the
  Dragonsworn gathered the pieces into a tight spinning ball that seemed to close
  in upon itself. The sphere hovered over a small waste bin where it stopped
  spinning and fell as a cascade of dust into the receptacle.

  "Mura'shar, you love her ... and gauging by her response to your behavior over
  the past few ... ahem, months, she loves you too. However, no woman worth her
  weight allows a man to dictate through thought or action, how she is or is not
  to behave!" The Green's eyes flared with deep fires.

  "I never ...!" the Asha'man began, but the Arafellan never gave him a chance.
  "You have and did and do! Trust, young man is the basis of any lasting
  relationship. You cannot command a woman's heart. You can not command a woman's
  mind, short of compulsion ... and that is not going to happen" the look on the
  Green's face brooked no argument. La'rece paused. She was being bombastic. She
  sounded like some aged Sitter in the White Tower from the Yellow or Blue ... or,
  worse yet, Red Ajah.

  With a sigh, the Dragonsworn took Mura'shar's head in her hands and looked him
  in the eye speaking softly and intently, "You, my fine well-intentioned fellow,
  need to stop and take a long look at what you want and what you've been doing,
  how you've been behaving. There's a woman out there whom you love and who, I
  believe, loves you. Not just a bondmate, Mura'shar. An ally to watch your back
  and be your support. Stop acting like a lad at Belteine and be the man you and I
  both know you are ... find her. Go to her. Talk to her. No games, no sarcasm,
  and for Light's sake, no Black Tower Asha'man bravado hairy-chested nonsense!
  You're both soldiers in this fortress. Remember that. Show her the same respect.
  The respect due an equal."

  "She won't listen ..." Mura'shar began. "She won't!" he added before La'rece
  could interrupt one more time.

  "She will" La'rece Barata'gan said with a warm smile. "She will." *Light, I
  hope she will ...* the Arafellan thought.

  *****
  The next morning, La'rece stepped outside to find the day bright and clear. Her
  initial intention had been to make her way to the kitchens to find some bread,
  cheese and fruit, and then to the stables to get her horse and find a nice quiet
  meadow in which to catch up on some of her reading.

  As the Arafellan made her way towards the Tower's kitchens, a Novice approached
  her ...

  ****
  OOC: Okay, I sooo hope I'm on track with that one!

  Lauren
  La'rece Barata'gan
  Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 Stevan sighed. He didn't know why Taim insisted on having a written report on
  every mission. But he did, so Stevan had to write reports until he was blue
  in the face. Such the responsibilities of Tsorovan'm'hael. He just began
  looking on his desk for the list of ter'angreal they had collected that
  Xyranthes had compiled - that had to be included in the report to - when
  there was a knock at the door.

  Emitting yet another sigh, he replied, "Come in." The door opened, and
  Mura'shar and Rengar entered dragging a slender, light-built teenager into
  his office. Stevan stared at him, weighing him up. He was only a few years
  younger than Stevan himself, and was dressed in clothes of light colours, but
  which were now faded.

  Mura'shar explained what had happened. "Stevan, this boy is a spy."

  Rengar added, "We found him near the Tower and thought to bring him to you.
  We caught him in the act!"

  Stevan stared at the new arrival. He certainly didn't look like a spy. More
  likely Rengar and Mura'shar got over-excited. Finally, he spoke. "So, what
  his your name?"

  "Collin...Collin Enra, sir," the teenager stuttered.

  "And what is your business at the Black Tower?"

  "I...I can channel. I heard about the Black Tower and decided to come here to
  learn about my gift and put it to good use, instead of going mad in vain."
  Stevan winced. Although he found the subject of the Taint easier to talk
  about now he had confessed his fears to Andraia, his bondmate, it was never
  easy to discuss it. And Collin seemed to be having the same difficulty in
  admitting the inevitable - insanity and madness.

  Stevan stood. "So you can channel? I think I'd better test that..."
 
 

  Only a few minutes later, Stevan sat down fully satisfied. The quick response
  to the flame that he had received from Collin obviously indicated that the
  man had channelled before. He glared at Mura'shar and Rengar. "Spy? Think
  more carefully next time. Now, get Collin a room."

  He then turned to Collin. "You are now a Soldier at the Black Tower. You are
  now fully committed to fighting the Dark One, and assisting the Lord Dragon
  in Tarmon Gaidon. And I expect to see you at the training ground at the tenth
  hour on the sundial tomorrow morning."

  Collin uttered a small, "Yes, sir," as he was ushered out of the room by the
  two daunting, black-clad Asha'man. Stevan watched him go with a small smile
  on his face. Collin might get a rough time from Mura'shar and Rengar from now
  on, since they had been so wrong about him...
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  -------------------------------------------
 

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

 The targets were all lying on the floor, as was the branch, albeit in pieces.
  Duratan looked up at him, his face obviously seeking for his tutor's opinion.
  Stevan frowned, and Duratan looked back at him puzzled. "I knocked all the
  targets down," he queried.

  Stevan realised his expression had been misunderstood. "No, no! You did
  great! However, it just wasn't exactly conventional." Stevan grinned and
  continued. "But ingenuity is always needed in the Tower. I'm honestly
  impressed." Then he looked at Duratan, sweating and panting, and shook his
  head. "You unnecessarily wore yourself out though. It was hard work, lifting
  that branch, and the targets were heavy. Next time try to think about
  conserving your energy. What would happen if a horde of Trollocs were to
  attack you now?"

  Duratan nodded, taking in the Tsorovan'm'hael's advice. Stevan smiled.
  "You're dismissed. You should have had another lesson in Earth now, but
  seeing that you've tired yourself out, you ought to go and have a rest. Plus
  you've impressed me. You are obviously skilled in Air - just how much so we
  still need to find out."
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  ------------------------------------------
 

  Steve
  <><

 
  Raileine had patiently awaited her assignment, kicking around dust with
  her feet. Gratianasil stood not far from her, wearing a braod grin, and idely
  Raileine wondered if the girl ever frowned. When she heard her name called
  her attention snapped up, along with head. She tried to remember who the
  woman was that she'd been assigned to. Gears turned in the ex-Librarians head
  but nothing snapped until she tried to remember the party that hadn't
  happened long ago. She'd seen lots from that.
  And the face snapped with the name and Raileine knew right away who she
  was. After everyone else started off Raileine left for her own trip to find
  La'rece. She proded carefully around until she found the Dragonsworn's room
  and then she stepped up to the door. Brushing a strand of curled hair out of
  her face she knocked on the door.
  "La'rece, are you currently in?" She asked to the door. More playing with
  her hair and twitchings of her dress offset Raileine's nervousness for anyone
  in the proximity of a mile, if they were to see her.
 

  - Jamie
  Raileine Topire

 "T-t-trust is the color of death!" Aramis slurred moodily around his cup.
  He wasn't sure what he was drinking, not anymore anyway, and he wasn't sure
  how long he had been juiced. He was drunk; that's all he knew.
  He had tried to get the musicians to play the song he was attempting to
  sing, but they ignored him. That was ok, though. They weren't part of the
  Black Tower, so they wouldn't have understood the importance of the words. If
  he could remember the words...
  He stood up, mostly, from where he had been sitting on the floor against
  the wall. He laughed at the fact that even though he was nicely sotted, he
  was also very bored. He considered dancing, but he couldn't seem to find
  anyone who would dance with him. He wanted to find someone to swap stories
  with, but anyone who would be interested in swapping stories with him would
  most likely know his stories already. So he just staggered around for a bit.
  A familiar voice from a nearby bench stopped him dead in his tracks. For
  a few blinding seconds, Aramis had to convince himself that the pretty woman
  with the slurring accent was not the Seanchan who killed his father. It was
  Tareena, whom Aramis owed his sanity to. Old hatreds die hard, and Aramis
  still faced the ghosts of the past... but he hadn't seen Tareena in some
  time. Who was the Soldier sitting next to her? Aramis invited himself into
  their conversation.
  "Well, m-milady, itt's nice to see yoo again," he said, stumbling out
  something like a bow. Tareena's smile quickly turned into a frown when she
  saw his condition.
  "Good day, Aramis. Enjoying yourself?"
  "Of course, milady." He looked at the Soldier, who was still seated and
  looking at Aramis with a distasteful frown. "Who are you, Soldier, and why
  are you still here?"
  "I'm Soldier Luthar Dartheon, Asha'man. I was just speaking with the
  Dragonsworn."
  "You're f-finished speaking with the Dragonsworn, boy. Leave."
  Luthar stood up quickly, not to leave but to argue it seemed. Aramis
  wasn't going to give him a chance. He was just about to draw his sword and
  teach the upstart a lesson when the hair on his neck stood up and the air
  around him solidified. Aramis gave over to a fit of cursing.
  Tareena spoke softly to the offended Soldier before hauling Aramis over
  to the nearest water trough. "It's nice to see you again, Aramis, but you are
  going to sober up and settle down before I consider talking to you."
  Aramis was going to apologize. He was sorry he was mean to the Soldier.
  He hadn't meant to make an ass of himself. But he never had the chance to say
  any of that. He was too busy trying not to drown as Tareena dunked him. And
  again. And again. And again...
  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  Nothing personal there, Ed. I'll blame it on the booze! Feel free to RP some
  sort of revenge, I guess. ;-)
  James aka Aramis

 Myiona looked at her list of things to do and saw that her next item
  was to schedule people to begin working with the Novitiates and Initiates in
  weapons training. "I should just get it over with," she mumbled knowing
  that it was very likely that she would run into Mura'shar on the training
  grounds.
  She shoved the list back in her pocket and brushed off the dark green
  dress carefully. Slowly, Myiona walked over to the training grounds. As
  she got nearer, she could hear the sounds of people training. She tried to
  locate her bondmate through the bond, but she was too nervous to concentrate
  enough.
  She was trying so hard to calm herself that she almost walked right
  into a training session involving the use of the power. Myiona blushed
  bright red and turned and walked the other way. She could not escape the
  laughter from some of the men. The Asha'man leading the class gave them a
  stern talking to, but she could tell that he thought the whole thing was
  funny as well.
  Myiona almost gave up and went back to her room when she saw the man
  she needed to speak with a few feet away. He was taking a group of soldiers
  through a lesson on swordsmanship. She headed straight for him, not looking
  left or right. She waited until he gave the men a break and then asked him
  about a time to work with the women. After getting a firm reply, she turned
  and bumped into someone. "I'm sorry," she said and looked up to find
  herself staring at Mura'shar.

  Vicky
  aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
  Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower
  she who often makes a fool of herself

 Well, I wanted an honest opinion Mura'shar thought to himself the next
  morning. La'rece was certainly honest. He felt like he'd gotten a
  dressing-down by one of his sterner tutors as a child. But he did break one
  of her cups, and the advise was sound. He had a lot to sleep on.
  The next morning found him in a foul mood. He'd gotten little sleep last
  night and still had no idea if Myiona would listen to anything he had to say.
  His mood didn't improve much as the morning progressed. He and Rengar
  were teaching a class of Soldiers and Dedicated about fighting while
  channeling. Remembering his promise to Dedicated Sneed, Mura'shar picked
  him out of the group for a sparring match.
  He intended to knock Sneed into the dirt right away, to take him down a
  peg. Unfortunately, Sneed was better than he thought, and Mura'shar let
  himself get distracted by his miseries. He was fighting a desperate battle
  for several minutes before he dumped Sneed into the dirt. Fortunately, the
  other Soldiers and Dedicated thought Mura'shar was playing with him the whole
  time and applauded.
  Mura'shar stepped out of the sparring ring for a breather and instructed
  his students to keep a light going above them while they practiced their
  forms, admonishing them not to tie off their flows. Rengar was giving
  similar instructions to his, then sauntered over to him.
  "There's someone hiding in the bushes" he said pointing a short way off
  "Think it's a spy?"
  "Probably" Mura'shar agreed. "If they had seen or heard anything that's
  been going on, they have to know who we are, let's check it out"
  They came upon a young man pretending to wake up from a nap. He kept
  protesting his innocents, but neither Mura'shar nor Rengar were in any mood
  for excuses. They hauled him straight to Stevan's office, dismissing their
  class early to do it.
  Outside Stevan's office, Xyranthes was puttering about the bookshelves.
  He looked in disapproval at Mura'shar and Rengar and had a few choice words
  to say about jumping to conclusions before Stevan let them in.
  After Stevan interviewed Collin, he determined that the kid was a
  channeler trying to find the Black Tower. Stevan admonished the two of them
  not to jump to conclusions and dismissed them.
  Mura'shar was feeling pretty dejected at this point. Hardly anything had
  gone right today, which was not yet half-over.
  After a quick lunch, he and Rengar were back to teaching a class on
  swordsmanship. A Dragonsworn who wasn't looking where she was going kept
  bumping into people until she reached him. Before she got near him, he knew
  who she was.
  "I'm sorry" she said distractedly. She looked up and was startled for a
  moment as she stared at his face.
  The startlement lasted but a moment, and faded away. She was all
  calmness again.
  "I'm sorry, Mura'shar. I was just here on an errand and wasn't looking
  where I was going"
  "Don't worry about it" he replied, trying to sound casual. Then, in a
  lower voice, he whispered
  "Can we meet tonight? For dinner? We have to talk. I think we made a
  mistake. I made a mistake"
  He gazed into Myiona's eyes as he awaited a reply.
  __________________________

  Whew! I finally managed to link all the rps I was involved in, and actually
  got a little bit of original stuff in to! I'm so proud:)
  Jake
  Marked Asha'man

 Luthar finally looking up at the owner of the voice, none other than
  Dragonsworn Tareena De'Havilan, Luthar sputtered out, "Ah I am sorry, my
  lady, I had no right to question you. It seems I am more indebted to you,
  my lady."
  Tareena eyed the man thoughtfully, wondering how in the world someone
  could be so dazed as to not realize they had sat on a bench next to someone.
  Shaking her head, she began to ease herself away from him, wondering if he
  were playing her for a fool. She rubbed her arms, feeling as though she
  needed a shower, wondering how long he had been sitting there. Finally she
  forced herself to look into his face, hoping not to see the sneer she knew
  would be in his eyes. Oddly enough, she did not see it there. She saw the
  face of a man truly caught off guard and surprised. Still not entirely
  trusting but not put off, she turned to the soldier and asked him his name.
  Polite conversation ensued, with Tareena having to force the tongue tied man
  to answer her questions. He seemed at once ready to bolt and never wanting
  to leave. Tareena was about to excuse herself, for she was tired, when a
  voice that she had not heard in quite some time rang across the small garden.

  "Well, m-milady, it's nice to see yoo again," he said, stumbling out
  something like a bow. Tareena's smile quickly turned into a frown when she
  saw his condition.
  "Good day, Aramis. Enjoying yourself?" Gritting her teeth, Tareena let
  her question drip with the proper hint of sarcasm. She had heard that Aramis
  was back at the tower, but until now, she had not seen him. She had been
  eager to speak with him for he had been gone a long time, as had she and she
  had missed him. She had come to like this Asha'man very much, especially when
  he had seemingly let go of his hatred of the Seanchan and allowed himself to
  get to know her. It seemed as though he had been avoiding her however, since
  his return, and now here he was, obviously three sheets to the wind and not
  caring that he was making a fool of himself in front of a new soldier.
  When Tareena realized that Aramis was going to draw his sword, she
  rapidly opened herself to the source and began weaving air, wrapping him in
  flows, binding him. Quietly she asked Luthar to leave them, asking him to
  not speak of this incident to anyone. She favored him with a smile, hoping
  that he indeed could be trusted to not open his mouth. Aramis would be sorry
  tomorrow, she knew and there was no need for him to be embarrassed further.
  After making sure Luthar had gone, she began dunking his head underneath the
  water in the small fountain, repeatedly, getting some small satisfaction out
  of seeing him stutter and bluster, at turns angry and pleading with her to
  stop. Finally, she acquiesced.
  "Are you ready to act like an Asha'man or a snotty bully, Aramis? If
  you cannot handle your wine better than a farmboy in the city for the first
  time, then maybe you had better settle for tea with the little girls." With
  a shake of her head, Tareena let the flows dissipitate and allowed Aramis
  freedom of movement once more. He pushed his wet hair from his eyes and
  glared at her. "Oh stop it and come here. You deserved it and you know it."
  She walked over and sat down once more upon the bench, moving her skirts to
  make room. With a sigh, Aramis sloshed over to the bench and carefully sat
  down next to her, careful not to get her dress wet. Taking pity on him, she
  once again channeled, removing the moisture from his clothes and the effects
  of the wine as well. Turning towards him, she let her eyes roam over his
  features, seeing new lines and remembering old features. Once she had
  thought she had a crush on this man, before time and duty had taken them in
  different directions. She had managed to put him from her mind and had
  concentrated on her bondmate, feeling love and security for the first time in
  her life. Yet still, this man had the ability to make her heart beat an
  unfamiliar rhythm. Wishing maybe that she hadn't ran into him tonight, she
  grimaced and turned to him with something resembling a smile.
  "So tell me some of what you have been doing. It has been a long time."
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  ---------------------------------------------

  OOC:: sorry so lame, my muse got on a train to Memphis without warning. Ed,
  I like your character but I am still a little unsure of how to write him so
  feel free to move Tareena around if you need to, you have an idea of where we
  want to go. James, it's always a pleasure to write with you :) I'm not sure
  what you had in mind for this meeting so I took it this far, now do with it
  what you will. All I know is that sometime the party has to end and I have
  to go find Ritania (Janet) and introduce myself :) Keep it up everyone! I
  actually had to post over twenty Rp's tonight on the RJ boards, woohoo!!! I
  love this Tower :)

 Mura'shar seemed as surprised to see Myiona as she was to see him. It
  did not help that standing next to him caused a strange ache in her stomach.
  She was hoping to escape before anyone else noticed the tension between
  them, but he seemed to have something on his mind.
  "Can we meet tonight? For dinner?" he asked. "We have to talk. I
  think we made a mistake. I made a mistake."
  Myiona looked up and they looked into each other's eyes for a few
  moments. "I did not . . .," she began and decided it would be stupid to
  cause a scene here in front of others. "Dinner would be fine. We can eat
  in my room, that way we will be able to talk without interruptions. Now, if
  you would excuse me, I have a long list of things I have to do before
  dinner."
  Myiona hurried away, not stopping to look at her list until after she
  was out of his sight. The things she had left to do were not very
  significant or immediate, but she finished them all before going back to her
  room. After spending several minutes looking through her clothes, she
  realized that she did not have anything to wear.
  The dragonsworn opened a gateway to her aunt's estate and found a dress
  waiting for her. It was exquisite! The material was a cream colored satin
  with a fine lace laid over the top. It was also more daring than any dress
  she had ever worn. Her aunt sent a woman to help with Myiona's hair and
  decided that her cook would fix the dinner, sending it through when the
  Domani sent back the other woman.
  Myiona soaked in a hot tub, scented by her favorite fragrance, and then
  dressed for the evening. While she had bathed, the other woman had
  rearranged some of the furniture to give them a cozy little nook for dinner.
  The woman wove rosebuds into Myiona's hair and then smiled. "You look
  beautiful," she said. "I do not know what you have planned for this
  evening, but I predict success."
  After opening the gateway, to send the woman back and bring the dinner
  over, Myiona wondered if she even knew what she had planned. Did she want
  things to go back to the way they were? Was there any way that things could
  ever work out to both of their satisfactions?
  A knock at the door interrupted her musings. She walked slowly to the
  door and opened it. "Come in Mura'shar," she said softly looking up at him,
  "everything is ready."

  Vicky
  aka Myiona Sedai of the Green Ajah
  Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower
  she who is waiting to see what will happen next

 
  Ariana gave a purely mental sigh. She had half-guessed that this would come
  up, when she accepted the invitation. With little emotion, she began
  speaking, nothing giving any hint that she told her own story and not someone
  else's. "I suppose my condition is really part of my life story, so I will
  start there," she said, half-questioningly, and continued when Myiona nodded.
  "My mother was a noblewoman, from Amadicia. She could channel, but being a
  proper woman who walked in the Light-" her sarcasm at the Children's
  simpleminded idiocy was clear- "she was horrified of the witches in Tar
  Valon, and taught herself to channel. Her house was not in favor at court,
  and to avoid suspicion of her abilities, she withdrew from the court and
  retired to her estates on the border. My father was the head of her guard;
  she married him almost as soon as she reached the estates, since only her
  court position had kept her from marrying a commoner. I am the result." The
  diminutive Healer shrugged, indicating with a gesture what she thought of
  their luck in having her. "Only a month after she found out, she caught
  fever. Understand, she could not go to a healer, for those who dare claim
  such a name in Amadicia often find themselves hanging at the cry of 'witch.'
  Even had there been one nearby, she would not have treated a noble, who was
  far too exposed to public eyes. A seemingly miraculous cure might end her
  life. She did recover, but it took near a month. Whatever the fever was, it
  damaged the child as well as the mother." Ariana's voice still was
  absolutely blank, except perhaps for a faint hint of weariness. "Her
  daughter was born small, crippled, and easily fatigued, among other things."
  She shrugged. "Not too bad a toll, considering it could easily have killed
  both mother and child. One of the problems is of no real consequence; the
  other I have grown used to, and the fatigue- it can be avoided, or ignored,
  or worked through." She paused, considering. "The Yellows in the White
  Tower have poked and prodded me until they- and I- am satisfied that nothing
  can be done. My limp appears to be the result of a bone defect, caused by
  the fever my mother suffered. It is ingrained, a part of what makes each
  person how they are, and cannot be Healed, for Delving will not detect it as
  an illness." She met Myiona's eyes evenly across the table, her own brown
  ones asking that the story be put to rest, that she be allowed to live in
  peace and not under the scrutiny of a concerned or curious would-be miracle
  worker. At length the First Dragonsworn nodded, and changed the subject. "I
  might as well go ahead and tell you, you're being assigned one of the
  newbies. Her name is Atia, so expect her to come find you as soon as they're
  all told." Ariana nodded, relieved at being granted her peace. They
  exchanged a few more trivialities, then the Healer departed. She hadn't seen
  the girl Myiona had mentioned before, and she rather thought that she should
  find out whatever she could about her before they met.

  ~Ariana (with more of my life story than anyone probably cares about, but
  oh, well. Just skim it. Hey, that sounds sorta like the Nike quote... (:
  )

 Collin stared from the two men who had brought him to the office, to the man
  sitting at the desk. Then he took a deep breath and looked at the man at the
  desk.
  "So, what is your name?" Stevan asked.
  Collin blinked and said slowly, "Collin ... Collin Enra, sir."
  "And what is your business at the Black Tower?"
  Collin brightened. Good, he had found the Black Tower ... And if it weren't
  for the two men who had thought he was a spy he wouldn't be here now.
  He smiled and said, "I...I can channel. I heard about the Black Tower and
  decided to come here to learn about my gift and put it to good use, instead of
  going mad in vain." The subject was still a little painful to him ... But he
  did have to learn to control the power and push away the madness as long as
  possible. The only other solution was to be killed.
  The man at the desk stood and said, "So you can channel? I think I'd better
  test that..."
  Collin wasn't fully sure of what happened, just that Stevan had given him
  some sort of test and he had passed.
  "Spy? Think more carefully next time. Now, get Collin a room," Stevan said to
  the two men who had brought him there. Then he turned to Collin and said, "You
  are now a Soldier at the Black Tower. You are now fully committed to fighting
  the Dark One, and assisting the Lord Dragon in Tarmon Gaidon. And I expect to
  see you at the training ground at the tenth hour on the sundial tomorrow
  morning."
  Collin nodded slowly and said, "Yes, sir."
  Then he was led off by the two Asha'men. Hmm ... It really wasn't their
  fault. They had good reason to be suspicious of anyone and everyone.
  However, he didn't have enough time to say anything because he was soon at
  his new room.
  They left him and he walked in and shut the door. He opened his eyes.
  Great! He had left his bags back at that tree where he had taken a small nap.
  Collin hurried back to find his case of clothes and violin case unharmed. If
  anything had happened to his father's violin ... It had been a special
  going-away gift.
  He picked up both cases and hurried back to his room. He put both on the
  floor and took a good look at his new room. It wasn't nearly as big as his old
  one at home and not as elaboratly designed.
  Collin smiled. But it would do ... All it needed were a few touches to make
  it more comfortable.
  He walked over to the small dresser and began putting his clothes away,
  leaving out one pair of sandy colored a light blue t-shirt. Then he changed and
  put his case in one corner of the room. He might need it later on, if he had to
  go anywhere, on any missions or anything.
  Then Collin grabbed his violin case and left his room. He walked around,
  getting a feel of the place. It felt dark and dismal, even though it was sunny.
  He sighed and sat down on a small hill. He pulled out his violin and closed
  his eyes, remembering the notes to his favorite tune. Then he began playing,
  softly.

  Okay ... That ended up longer than I first intended for it to be. :) If
  anyone wants, go ahead and respond. I would like for him to get to know some of
  the other people here. :)

  Nick
  AKA Collin, Soldier of the Black Tower

 The young Novice left quickly having handed La'rece the note from Myiona.
  Scanning the contents the Dragonsworn nodded to herself ...

  **...she's young and inexperienced, La'rece, and just a tad sulky around the
  edges. I trust in your ability to make her a proper member of the Black Tower.**

  *A tad 'sulky'? I wonder what she means by that, in particular.* La'rece had
  been considerably aloof from the other women in the Tower over the past year.
  She hadn't even had a chance to inquire as to Mikel's whereabouts. Her life had
  revolved around her bondmates and their joint quest to serve as a singular
  weapon of the Tower. Now they were gone; perhaps forever.

  "Well, I suppose I better find this girl. Raileine, is it? Hmm." The Arafellan
  felt a new sense of purpose descend upon her as she made her way back to her
  apartments. Myiona's note stated that she had instructed the Novice to seek out
  La'rece.

  ****
  Clearly the woman wasn't in her rooms. Raileine sighed and turned to go ...

  .. there stood a woman with red hair, pale skin, large green eyes that held a
  mischevious twinkle, wearing a silk dress of deep emerald green.

  For a long moment the two women just stared, each weighing the other to the last
  inch. Raileine began to feel uncomfortable. *Is this her or not?!*

  The feeling became to much and Raileine opened her mouth to speak, but the other
  woman gave her no chance.

  "You're Raileine, I take it. My name, as you no doubt already know, is La'rece.
  La'rece Barata'gan." The Dragonsworn couldn't help but chuckle at how pompous
  that sounded startling the Novice. "Well, that sounded properly idiotic.
  Raileine, I'm La'rece and Myiona has asked me to ... mentor you, though I must
  be honest and tell you, I'm better suited to teaching combat techniques and
  riding skills."

  "Combat techniques, Dragonsworn?" the girl asked.

  "Never mind. And don't call me Dragonsworn, girl. I know bloody well what I
  am. Marked. Dragonsworn. Aes Sedai of the Green Ajah. High Seat of House
  Barata'gan. Blah blah blah. Light! It all makes me sound like one of those
  puffed up Tairens. Just La'rece, okay?"

  "A-alright" Raileine replied hesitantly.

  "Well, then ... first things first. I need to find a decent book on falconry.
  Let's go."

  *Falconry?* the Novice thought to herself. Noticing that the Dragonsworn had
  turned and headed down the hallway, Raileine hurried after, walking briskly to
  keep up with La'rece. *Who is this woman?* she wondered.

  ****
  La'rece had no idea what she could possible teach the young woman. Myiona had
  probably decided to punish the Novice for some infraction of the rules and make
  La'rece earn her keep at the same time. No, that wasn't really Myiona's style
  from what La'rece had ever observed. Myiona was likely doing the sensible thing
  by making use of an old warhorse. *An old warhorse who still looks good, thank
  you very much!* Light, what on earth made her think about books on Falconry of
  all things?! *Are Falcons sulky?*

  Heading towards the barn that housed the Tower's library, Raileine following
  close on her heels, La'rece smiled as she caught a glimpse of Myiona and
  Mura'shar exchanging words a fair distance away ... yet not too far for La'rece
  to notice the look of apprehension and expectation on both their faces. *Light
  willing, they'll both open their eyes ... and their hearts!*

  "Come along, Raileine" La'rece said with renewed vigor. "Come along."

  ****
  OOC: I hope I didn't step on any toes ... :::grin:::

  Lauren
  La'rece Barata'gan
  Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 "You unnecessarily wore yourself out though. It was hard work, lifting that
  branch, and the targets were heavy. Next time try to think about conserving your
  energy. What would happen if a horde of Trollocs were to attack you now?"
  Duratan nodded, wondering how he could earn respect here. He had tried to think
  of something that would complete the task easily, but had failed because the
  targets were heavier than he expected.
  "You're dismissed," Stevan said. "You should have had another lesson in Earth
  now, but seeing that you've tired yourself out, you ought to go and have a
  rest. Plus you've impressed me. You are obviously skilled in Air - just how much
  so we still need to find out."
  Duratan walked off glad that he gotten some praise, but disappointed that his
  tactics had not been acceptable. He sighed a went back to the room he shared
  with the other soldiers.
  It was a good time for a nap and Duratan decided to take advantage of the empty
  room and the veritable silence. It did not take long for the Tairan to fall
  asleep, but the nap was rudely interrupted as someone came into the room and put
  their things on one of the beds. The young man sat down and looked around.
  Feeling too tired for conversation, Duratan pretended to be still asleep.
  A little while later, he decided to go to the dining hall for dinner. He found
  a table that some of the other soldiers were sitting at and joined them.
  "Anything exciting happen out on the practice field today?" he asked looking
  around at the others.

 Alcinia nodded and wondered what she was going to do. "Well," she said, "I
  guess we will have to start at the beginning. This is the way it was explained
  to me, so I hope you understand. Basically, all you have to do is learn to open
  up and surrender to Saidar. I am going to take you through some simple
  exercises that will help you to relax enough to channel. Then you will be ready
  to find the source and open up to it."
  Hours later, Alcinia was tired. She told Genia to go to her room and rest
  awhile before dinner. Teaching was not one of the Mayene thief's strongpoints.
  It required more patience than she had. She had to get up and pace around the
  area several times to keep from yelling at the girl.

 
  Mura'shar put on his best suit in preparation for his dinner with Myiona.
  He didn't want anything to go wrong. He had already done some Traveling and
  got a bottle of fine wine and a bouquet of flowers for the occasion. He was
  surprised at how expensive the flowers were. Though given the recent weather
  he supposed it was unavoidable.
  He made his way to Myiona's new quarters and knocked on the door. Myiona
  opened it and smiled as she let him in.
  Mura'shar nearly dropped his gifts at the sight of her. She
  was...stunning. Radiant, even. He almost tripped walking through the doorway
  as he tried to find his voice.
  "You, you look lovely this evening" he managed to stammer. Myiona smiled
  and accepted the gifts he held out for her.
  "Thank you." she murmured. She smelled the flowers and put them in a
  nearby vase. "The food will be ready shortly, maybe we should talk a bit
  before we eat.
  Mura'shar agreed and dropped into a chair. Myiona sat gracefully into
  another.
  "I wanted to say I'm sorry fro how I've been treating you. I've been
  acting childish lately, and I have no excuse. All I can say is I'll try to
  improve. I know I can trust you"
  Myiona smiled, a bit sadly. "I accept your apology" she said "But how do
  I know this won't happen again? And again? We're bondmates, and we must
  trust each other. I don't think we've reached that yet. Or if we did, we've
  lost it."
  Mura'shar was encouraged. She was listening! She was considering! "I
  do trust you. I'll prove it, somehow. It's just that when I was growing up,
  everything was deliberately planned. Even meals. I'm always reading more
  into a situation than what's really there. I hope you can be patient with me"
  We'll see" Myiona said "but now, let's eat."
  Dinner was quite pleasant, a perfect end to a not so great day. Myiona
  and Mura'shar reminisced on all the adventures they've had together. Their
  first meeting in the Spine of the world that set the tone for their rocky
  relationship. Their mission in Mayene, where they posed as a married couple
  and where Mura'shar almost died of a misunderstanding with Tareena. Altara,
  where Mura'shar led the Black Tower to Myiona's prison like a crazed avenger,
  and the horrible nightmare that followed. And the most recent adventure,
  which took them to the end of the world and back.
  The evening passed quickly, with talk and laughter. When Mura'shar
  finally stood up, he had a hard time walking steadily. The wine bottle was
  nearly empty.
  "I think I should be leaving" he said, glad he could still speak clearly.
  "It's late, and we both have busy days tomorrow.
  "I guess you should" Myiona said and got up as well. She was much
  steadier. And put a hand on his arm.
  He leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. At least it
  started as one. The kiss went on and deepened. When they finally broke
  away, they were both breathless.
  "We should probably wait on this" Mura'shar said, suddenly thinking much
  more, or less clearly. "After all, we don't know how, or if, we'll work this
  out"
  Myiona smiled and said "I trust you this much" and she channeled the
  lights out.

  Jake
  Marked Asha'man

 It was an overcast day, setting Raileine in a mood that fit the day. She
  was reading a book that she'd not seen before, at least not in the Librarie's
  shed worked at. Induldged in her book she didn't see the Asha'man approaching
  her. A quick weave upside the head brought Raileine to attention. She curtsied,
  not letting go of the book and looked up at him. She'd only seen him around a
  few times but couldn't put a name to the face. "Can I help you?" She asked,
  standing up from the curtsy.
  At that time Gratianasil decided to join the party and she as well curtsied
  to him. "I was wanting that book you were reading, girl." Now that startled
  Raileine. She was twice the boy's age and *he* was calling *her* a girl? She
  sighed and began to banter quietly with him.
  "I was in the middle of reading it, I'm sure there is another copy-" She was
  cut off short by another man, whom Raileine didn't know joining the one before
  her. She looked to Atia for a little bit of help. "I'm sure I could help you
  find another cop-" He snatched the book out of her hand, loosing her page. "That
  wasn't very polite." She commented.
  "I wasn't taught to be polite." He said pushing Raileine over into a puddle
  of mud and walked by her. Atia glared daggers at his back and caught up with
  him. "I would apprecaite to have the book back, good sir." She said curtsying.
  "I wish not this to become a fray amongst us," This time he pushed Atia into the
  dirt, covering the girl with mud herself. She looked over to Raileine with big
  eyes. "We will be sure to tell someone of this, abuse doesn't go unwarented I'm
  sure." Atia told the two men as they walked away, slapping each other on the
  back for succesffuly taking hte book from Raileine.
  "And we'll say you're lying. A good wipping would do the two of you good
  anyways.. I hate the newer ones." The last comment was directed to the other man
  with him as they took off. Raileine cursed, trying to clean herself off, Atia
  just shrugged. "We should tell Tareena, Raileine."
  "You heard what they said!" She snapped, her eyes going darker. "I dare not
  be humiliated, I'll just go and find the book in the Library." She started back
  off for the Library and Atia grabbed her arm.
  "If you let them do that, then they'll tdo it again, thinking it's ok. C'mon
  hun, let's go to Tareena, what's the worse that can come out of it? I think I
  know who the bully one was.. wasn't his name.. uh.. Honsare?" She asked and
  Raileine nodded enthusiastically, finally being able to put a name with the
  face. "Let's go." She took Rai's arm and they scurried off to Tareena's
  quarters.
  A gentle knock on the door set Tareena to call them in and Atia entered
  first, curtsying to the woman. Raileien followed her. "Today.. out in the
  courtyard my friend Raileine Topire was reading a book. An Asha'man by the name
  of Honsare came up to her and bullied her into giving him the book. He pushed us
  both into the mud, and then blackmailed us, taking the book." She explained to
  Tareena. Then Raileine told the story in detail as it had happened.
  "We just thought you should know." Raileine said, lowering her head and
  looking at her shoes, finding a new interest in them.
 

  -*-*-*-*-*-*-
  Jamie & Kate
  Raileine & Gratianasil

 Myiona was surprised by the flowers and pleased. He seemed to be
  trying to be romantic, and that made her happy. She needed those little
  romantic gestures to make her happy. She also enjoyed the compliment about
  how nice she looked. The dragonsworn felt that he had taken her for granted
  too much, and her appearance was very important to her.

  His apology was nice, though she thought he still took the matter too
  lightly. It was very important to Myiona for him to trust her and accept
  her as she really was. At least he was making an effort, and that was a
  good first step. The dinner conversation was nice, comfortable and it also
  showed he treasured the time they had spent together.

  It seemed only natural that they stay together that night, putting a
  seal upon their desire to work things out. That part of their relationship
  had always been fulfilling and she was glad that he still desired her.
  Mura'shar was very passionate that night and Myiona responded as
  passionately.

  Afterwards, Myiona lay listening to Mura'shar sleeping beside her. She
  was snuggled as close as possible and his arms were wrapped around her like
  he was afraid of losing her even in his sleep. She felt very drowsy and
  very contented and it did not take long for her to fall asleep.

  The next morning Myiona opened her eyes and looked at her bondmate.
  The feelings he caused in her amazed her, and she wondered how she had hoped
  to live without him. She knew that if things did not work out, she would
  have to leave the tower because she could not bear being so close to him
  without having him in her life.

  She leaned over and kissed him until he responded, kissing her back.
  After a few minutes, he broke the kiss and looked into her eyes. Myiona
  whispered, "Thank you for last night. You made me feel very special and
  loved. I never meant to hurt you, you know. I want things to work out, but
  . . ."

 Ariana paused on her way back to her rooms, lured by the sound of music-
  played competently!- somewhere nearby. It seemed like she hadn't heard real
  music (excluding the party, of course) in forever. She so rarely had the
  time to play her harp now that is was practically covered in dust. The only
  music she had heard in the Tower lately was the occasional Soldier whistling
  snatches of popular tunes on the way to a class.
  As quietly as she was able, she limped after the trail of notes to find its
  source. She found it not far away; seated on a small hill sat someone she
  didn't recognize, his eyes closed and a violin in his skilled hands. The
  Healer made no sound, content to listen, but eventually he must have sensed
  her presence, and he looked up. I suppose that's my cue, she thought, and
  introduced herself. "You play beautifully," she told him with a smile, "But
  I'm afraid I don't know your name. I'm Ariana, the Healer around here." She
  saw his glance take in her limp, but at least he didn't stare. After the
  discussion with Myiona, she was glad for it. "Where did you learn to play?"
  Hello! Just thought I'd say hi and introduce myself... Erin, that is, the
  person behind Ariana. How's the Tower treating you? Hope you enjoy it here!
  ~E

 
  "... it's almost as though ..." La'rece's voice trailed off as she turned to
  find Raileine gone. *Where did the girl get to?!*

  Heading down one of the aisles of books, the Dragonsworn heard voices not far
  off. She recognized Raileine's immediately. As she neared the sounds, La'rece
  overheard what must have been a soldier indeed, rudely demand a book that
  Raileine was apparently in possession of ... *this should be interesting, seeing
  how the girl handles herself with the likes of an impudent soldier* La'rece
  leaned back and listened as the verbal exchange continued...

  "...we'll say you're lying. A good wipping would do the two of you good
  anyways.. I hate the newer ones."

  *Well, aren't you *boys* the perfect gentlemen. I'll see to them in short* the
  Dragonsworn thought to herself.

  "We should tell Tareena, Raileine" La'rece heard the other young woman say. As
  La'rece made her way around the stack, the two Novices were already gone.
  *Lesson number one, young lady, never leave a Dragonsworn without permission!
  Light, I sound like the Mistress of Novices!* La'rece thought ruefully. Well,
  the Dragonsworn could immediately think of two Novices that were quite likely
  going to wish they'd never set eyes on La'rece Barata'gan.

  People moved quickly to get out of the Marked Dragonsworn's path. She didn't
  glare; didn't even frown. In fact she smiled. A pleasant smile fixed on her face
  that was belied by the hawk-like gleam in her eyes as La'rece made her way
  directly to Tareena's rooms.

  ****
  OOC: Ahem.

  Lauren
  La'rece Barata'gan
  Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster ...
  and mentor to delinquent novices!

 Collin opened his eyes and lowered his violin. He looked up at the woman.
  "You play beautifully," the young woman said, "But I'm afraid I don't know
  your name. I'm Ariana, the Healer around here."
  Collin saw her limp, but didn't overreact about it and looked back at her
  face.
  "Where did you learn to play?" Ariana asked.
  "My father taught me ... I started when I was six years old," he said
  smiling, and stood up. He inclined his head to her and said, "Hello. I'm
  Collin Enra, a new Soldier here ... I just got here today."
  "Do you want to sit down?" he asked.
  Ariana nodded and they sat.
  "You must have been here for a long time ..." Collin said, looking at his
  shoes. Then he turned back to Ariana and said, smiling, "I hope that I will be
  able to heal." He closed his eyes, "I've always liked helping people ... And
  hopefully now I'll be able to heal people ..." He sighed and stared at the sky.
  "But if only people would accept men who can channel ..."
  He turned back to Ariana. "Sorry ... It's just a dream I've had ever since
  I was young. I've always wanted to be a healer or something of the sort. But
  for some reason I have never been able to accomplish that dream. Before I came
  here I was an heir. Now ... I don't know if I'll ever even see my family again
  .." Pictures of his father and sisters came into his mind, their voices and
  laughter ...
  Collin looked at Ariana and said, "Sorry. I'm known to share almost
  everything with everyone." He smiled and asked, "What about you? What about
  your family?" He closed his eyes, "Sorry again. Those were very personal
  questions." He sighed and fiddled with his violin, looking at the instrument.
 

  Hi Erin! I'm Nick ... the guy writing for Collin. Oh, the tower has been
  treating me good so far, me that is. Collin, however, was thought to be a spy.
  ;-)

  Well, I have to get some sleep. Good night everyone!

  Nick
  AKA Collin

 Alan was tired....after a day spent teaching the newer arrivals how to
  channel he realized the effort it cost to constantly make sure no one killed
  them, or a sparring partner. Several times he had to cut weaves of other
  men before they went out of control and killed sombody. Walking into the
  long hall where the brothers and sisters of the Black Tower ate. He walked
  in and quickly grabbed some food. Not really looking where he sat down...he
  started to eat his food when he heard a voice ask, "ANything exciting happen
  on the practice field today?" Alan turned to the speaker and said, "You
  have no idea. I think after this meal i am going to my room and sleep for a
  week. Some soldiers just dont understand their power yet." Alan then
  noticed that the person he was speaking to had neither the dragon nor the
  sword on his collar. "I am sorry soldier, i thought you were a dedicated."
  after a slight pause "My name is Alan al Daren, Marked ashaman, and Tsvoron
  M"hael of this here tower...it is a pleasure to meet you. So how do you
  find the tower?"

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  Got to run to class, hope you all are having a great day... check ya later
  Joe

 "I want things to work out, but ..."
  "I understand" Mura'shar said, laying a finger against Myiona's lips.
  "We've both said and done things to hurt the other. Let's just promise to be
  more careful with each other's feelings in the future"
  Myiona agreed. They got up, dressed, and shared a quick breakfast.
  While they ate, they talked of the classes they ad been teaching and when
  their next mission may be. Mura'shar offered to bring in some Soldiers to
  train occasionally with the Novitiates, so men could learn to counter saidar,
  and women saidin.
  Afterward, they left for their separate classes. Mura'shar didn't go
  straight to his class, However he opened a gateway and stepped through. He
  had a great debt to pay first.
  The villagers recognized him as from the Black Tower, even if they didn't
  recognize him exactly. They were still grateful for the help they received,
  and were willing to talk with him, though a male channeler certainly made
  them nervous. After a few questions, they referred him to a ship about to
  leave that could old what he needed.
  The Cargomaster didn't want to deal at first. But Mura'shar showed him
  some gold and he decided a slight delay couldn't hurt. Mura'shar glanced
  through his wares and eventually found what he was looking for. It as not
  exactly the same, but it was a closer match than he had expected to find.
  And the price, while high, was not totally unreasonable. He paid the man for
  the item, and for a few other items he thought Myiona would like, and
  departed Tremalking,
  Back at the Black Tower, Mura'shar carefully wrapped the Sea Folk
  porcelain tea cup, placed it in a small box with a note saying "Thank You,"
  and set it in front of La'rece's door. Then he hurried to the practice yards
  before he was overly late. This was going to be a great day, he was certain.

  Jake
  Marked Asha'man

 "My father taught me ... I started when I was six years old," he said
  smiling, and stood up. He inclined his head to her and said, "Hello. I'm
  Collin Enra, a new Soldier here ... I just got here today." Ariana smiled.
  "Do you want to sit down?" he asked.
  Ariana nodded and joined him a bit awkwardly on the hillside, ignoring
  the fact that this would probably get grass stains on her just-cleaned brown
  skirts. With any luck, it wouldn't be too noticeable anyway. She turned her
  attention toward the young man, who seemed rather shy.
  "You must have been here for a long time ..." Collin said, looking at his
  shoes. Then he turned back to Ariana and said, smiling, "I hope that I will
  be able to heal." The Healer refused to flinch. He closed his eyes, and
  seemed to struggle with embarrassment for a moment. "I've always liked
  helping people ... And hopefully now I'll be able to heal people ..." He
  sighed and stared at the sky. "But if only people would accept men who can
  channel ..." He turned back to Ariana. "Sorry ... It's just a dream I've
  had ever since I was young. I've always wanted to be a healer or something
  of the sort. But for some reason I have never been able to accomplish that
  dream. Before I came here I was an heir. Now ... I don't know if I'll ever
  even see my family again ..." His eyes suddenly seemed far away for a
  moment- doubtless reflecting on those he'd left behind.
  Then he looked back at Ariana and said, "Sorry. I'm known to share
  almost everything with everyone." He smiled and asked, "What about you?
  What about your family?" He closed his eyes, "Sorry again. Those were very
  personal questions." He sighed and fiddled with his violin, looking at the
  instrument.
  Ariana grinned. "Great- there's definitely a need for another Healer around
  here! And musicians are always welcome, at least in my book. And I suppose
  personal questions are how one gets to know someone." When he looked up from
  the violin, she continued. "I'm fairly new here, in truth. I am from
  Amadicia, actually; my mother was a noble and my father a commoner. I can
  channel, as could my mother, but she never went to Tar Valon. I did; so
  technically I'm Ariana Kantori, Aes Sedai of the Yellow Ajah as well as
  Marked Dragonsworn of the Black Tower. And, of course, high lady of Caermyr,
  though that is long past. Still, sometimes it comes in handy to have such a
  long name." She grimaced at the long list titles- and the memory of those
  times the list had come in handy. "And you?" She had guessed from his
  musical skills that he had to be a noble of some sort- most commoners did not
  have the time or the money to practice an instrument, especially so finely
  crafted a one as his. "Did your father teach you your playing skills? And
  where did you pick up an interest in Healing?"

 Tareena stood gazing out of the window to her apartment/office and
  sighed. The day was beautiful, clouds dotting the horizon, the sun shining
  and the trees gently swaying in the wind and somewhere someone was playing a
  hauntingly beautiful tune on a violin. She wanted to be anywhere but stuck
  inside. She wanted to sneak off to her special place, by the lake, and trail
  her fingers in the water. With a sigh, she sat down, thinking of how little
  sleep she got the night before. She and Aramis had stayed up talking,
  sharing important pieces of what they had been doing in the past months and
  becoming reacquainted with one another. Tareena had been looking forward to
  today but it had not started off on a good note at all.
  Word had come that a Seanchan damane had been found, uncollared, and
  brought to the tower. Evidentially, she wanted to stay here. It's no
  wonder, given the treatment she received growing up. The knowledge that the
  girl would be better off in the tower did nothing to offset the emotions that
  came bubbling up from memory. She stamped them down, mercilessly. She could
  not afford to think of that now. She had grown, in her time at the tower.
  She was not a frightened girl anymore. She was a woman, powerful in her own
  right. She had been raised through the ranks of the Tower to Guardian, second
  in command, the highest rank a woman could hold. She had earned it through
  faith and service. Then why do I feel so alone? The answer, of course, was
  in the second set of bad news she had heard that morning. Her bondmate,
  Darren Sadke, had been sent on a mission with several of the other Asha'man,
  to scout out territories supposedly being held by the Seanchan. The M'Hael
  had decided to send no women on this mission, due to the great risk involved
  of capture. There were to be no skirmishes or contact so a small scouting
  force was sent. With a sigh, Tareena knew she should not be dwelling on his
  absence, yet she felt empty. Darren had bonded her to show the others that
  she was not the enemy. The hated Seanchan enemy. Of course, I was about to
  kill Mur'ashar at the time and in turn be killed by Myiona. Strange roads
  are walked in life or death situations. Now I count both of them among my
  dearest friends. Ironic.
  With a shake, she admonished herself to stop wool gathering and began
  making her way through some papers when a knock sounded on the door. Bidding
  whoever it was to enter, Tareena sat back in her chair and watched two
  apparently very nervous novitiates make their way into the room, curtsying
  appropriately, followed by one thundercloud of a Dragonsworn, if her face was
  any gauge to her mood. Her memory provided the names of the two women to
  her. Gratiansil and Raileine and she knew La'rece of course. Wondering what
  had brought this odd procession to her office, she motioned for La'rece to
  have a seat and left the two novitiates standing. Hearing their complaint of
  being treated inappropriately set Tareena's teeth on edge. Several reports
  had been coming across her desk detailing run ins with impolite and haughty
  Asha'man. This was simply yet another reminder that things weren't always so
  calm and collected at the Black Tower. She had thought that the suspicion
  and distrust had been laid to rest but obviously someone was stirring it back
  up. Yet, who knew? These were young women, away from home in a new place
  with strange rules. How much are they making up or how much did they
  provoke. Asking them why they didn't go to Myiona with this information, she
  was told that Myiona could not be found this early in the morning.
  Suppressing a grin, Tareena hoped that her friends were enjoying themselves.
  Maybe this means Myiona and Mur'ashar worked things out...or Myiona found
  something else to distract her. Thanking the novitiates for coming to her and
  reminding them that they had classes to attend, Tareena turned toward her new
  friend and asked "Okay, La'rece, how much of that was true and why are you so
  angry?" Offering her some tea, Tareena listened as the Dragonsworn related
  much the same tale as the two ladies and her impression of the altercation.
  Tareena asked La'rece her opinion of the situation and what she would do to
  correct it. Finishing discussing business, the two women went on to speak of
  other things, sharing their thoughts and tentatively reaching out to form a
  bond. As La'rece prepared to leave, with a twinkle in her eye, Tareena asked
  La'rece to go easy on the novitiate for leaving her side. La'rece laughed
  and left the room and Tareena laughed with her, knowing that La'rece had no
  intentions of promising anything.
  Making notes to herself, Tareena placed speaking with the new Seanchan a
  priority. Tapping her chin with her finger, Tareena began to form a plan in
  her head on how to deal with the Asha'man she needed someone she could
  trust, someone who would be loyal to her and no one else. Remembering a
  conversation she had recently had, Tareena began to smile and left her rooms,
  in search of Luthar.
  Finding him just coming off the practice fields, she asked him to follow
  her off to one side and began speaking of her need and why she had come to
  him. Time seemed to stand still as she waited for him to answer.
  Thoughtfully he stared at her. She had the impression of someone weighing
  and measuring her words, looking for loopholes and possible harm. She made
  herself stand still, meeting his gaze steadily, though inside she was
  nervous. Finally he nodded his agreement. He would help her. With a nod,
  she left the field, walking towards the small courtyard. She had earned a
  break and she was going to take it. Entering into the relative coolness of
  the shaded area, she sighed, knowing that a break was not what she was going
  to get. Sitting on a bench, head bowed, Tareena could only assume, was the
  new Seanchan recruit. Great sobs were wracking her body as her arms wrapped
  around herself, almost as if she were trying to hold everything in. With
  another sigh, Tareena walked over and sat down, patiently waiting for the
  barrage of tears to pass.
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  ---------------------------------------------
  OOC: Ed, feel free to write in any dialogue between Tareena and Luthar that
  you would like. Janet feel free to jump in and tell Tareena a little about
  yourself. Remember, I am a former Seanchan battle damane so we have a lot in
  common. I am going on vacation to Florida for a few days so I will answer
  everyone upon my return. Take care everyone!

  Lisa ~ Tareena De'Havilan

 They sat in front of him, some of the most experienced and highest ranked
  channellers in the Black Tower. Tareena de'Havilan, 1st Dragonsworn of Haza.
  Andraia Korinth, 2nd Dragonsworn of Haza. Alan al'Daren, Tsorovan'm'hael of
  Maelstrom. Myiona Shallon, 1st Dragonsworn of Maelstrom. Mura'shar,
  Baijan'm'hael of Maelstrom. And finally, himself, Stevan Jaer Ingaren,
  Tsorovan'm'hael of the Haza Storm Team.

  Stevan shuffled the papers in front of him, and put them to one side as he
  picked up the message Taim had passed on to him from the Lord Dragon this
  morning. "Here you go," he said, and passed handed it to Andraia, who being
  his bondmate was sitting nearest to him. Each of them in turn read it, and
  passed it on, until it finally got back to Stevan. He watched their faces as
  they read it, and observed that their reactions were the same as what his had
  been - puzzled yet intrigued.

  He glanced back down at the note again, and re-read it to refresh it in his
  own mind.

  The Aiel have observed some strange activity at Rhuidean. Tracks have been
  found leading to the city from the Portal Stone. I have stationed a guard of
  Aiel there, yet I will need Asha'man if it becomes apparent that something
  more sinister is happening.
  Rand al'Thor

  Stevan folded up the note and put it on top of the pile of papers on the side
  of his desk. He lent forwards, clasped his hands together and looked each
  member of the War Council in the eye before he spoke. "Taim has given me two
  options. Either we take Haza and Maelstrom there now to strengthen the Aiel
  guard, or we wait and see if it develops into something worthy of our
  attention. My view is that Taim is overreacting to the situation, and I side
  with the latter view. However, it is an intriguing situation, therefore, I've
  gathered you here to discuss our options. What do you think?"
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------

  So War Council, fire your opinions!
 

  Steve
  <><

 The two Novices, Gratiansil and Raileine, noticed the fast approaching
  Dragonsworn just as they reached the door to Tareena's doors. Blanching at the
  expression on La'rece's face, the two young women were at a loss for words.

  "Well? Knock, girl. You left me without a word at the library, but you'll not
  leave me waiting now. Knock!" The Arafellan's eyes seemed to blaze causing the
  Novices to shrink back slightly. *Stop trying to frighten the wits out them,
  woman! Light, you've got them cowering in their boots* the Dragonsworn
  admonished herself.

  Seeing that neither of the young women was ready to make a move, with a sigh,
  La'rece reached past the Novices and rapped on the door.

  "Come in" Tareena said through the door. Raileine and Gratiansil looked
  questionningly at La'rece. The Dragonsworn waved impatiently for the two
  Novices to open the door and enter. La'rece was right on their heels. If she
  hadn't been so busy being annoyed at Raileine and those two surly soldiers,
  La'rece would have laughed out loud at the expression on Tareena's face as the
  three of them paraded into her study. The look was classic ... very Janara,
  with perhaps a bit more edge.

  Tareena invited La'rece to take a seat leaving the two wayward Novices standing.
  She asked them to explain their presence in her study. As they relayed their
  encounter with the soldiers, the Seanchan's expression went from an annoyed
  frown to dark thunderclouds. La'rece knew where the annoyance came from ...
  these girls might be talented and hold great potential, but the tone of voice
  was a bit to petulant. As to the thunderclouds crossing Tareena's face, La'rece
  felt sure the same expression could be found on her own. The women of the Black
  Tower had fought for and earned their place in the Tower, and no man, certainly
  not a mere soldier, was going to work to undo that by treating any member of the
  Tower as a second-class citizen.

  Tareena thanked the novitiates for their report and after a quick glance at
  La'rece indicating she should hold her tongue, for now, sent them on their way
  reminding them that they had classes to attend.

  "Okay, La'rece, how much of that was true and why are
  you so angry?" The humor at La'rece's discombobulation was clear in Tareena's
  voice. Offering her sister Dragonsworn some tea, Tareena listened as La'rece
  confirmed the Novices' story.

  "So, what's your opinion of what happened, La'rece?"

  Pausing to sip her tea, La'rece said "One, I think Mistress Raileine needs
  lessons that allow her to maintain her concentration. Oh, don't look at me like
  that, Tareena. I'm not an ogre. I just need to keep closer tabs on the girl when
  we're working ... of course, she was right there and then ..." The Green
  grumbled as she took another sip of tea.

  Tareena worked very hard at not grinning. "And the second thing?"

  "Two, I think the Master of Soldiers needs to have a talking to and then in turn
  the soldiers themselves need to be reminded that the women of this Tower are
  partners in battle, not curs for young men ... boys! to kick and push around."

  Tareena waited a moment for La'rece to move a bit further past her anger. "Go
  easy on the Novices, La'rece. I know you don't have much practice working with
  the newer girls, but you have so much to offer them and I don't want to see it
  wasted because they're too busy hiding from you." Now Tareena's grin was clear.
  La'rece couldn't help grinning too, and soon both women were laughing.

  "I think I need a whole new approach with Raileine. Playing at Mistress of
  Novices is gonna be the death of me. No, I think its time ... to just be ...
  La'rece."

  Tareena arched an eyebrow causing La'rece to laugh once again. The Guardian
  couldn't help but join her. The two women talked at length about life around
  the Tower, the latest fashions seen in and around the Tower, however they did
  not focus on the recent foray to the Island of the Madmen ... some memories were
  best left alone for a while.

  As La'rece prepared to leave, Tareena said, "Once again, La'rece, try to
  remember that Raileine is young, and new ... and, with time, she'll learn. Go
  easy on her."

  La'rece laughed and left the room leaving Tareena who was laughing with her. The
  Green thought it was going to be an interesting week here in the Black Tower.
  Suddenly remembering something, La'rece headed back to toward her apartments.

  Lauren
  La'rece Barata'gan
  Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 Myiona, pleased by how well things had gone with Mura'shar, walked out
  of her rooms with a smile on her face. She said "good morning" to everyone
  she passed and did not even notice the admiring looks on the faces of the
  men. After confirming the weapons training session, the First Dragonsworn
  walked to speak with the builders. She told them of the need for the
  infirmary and an addition to the library, and gave them a rough sketch of
  what she would like to see done. "One more thing," she said before leaving,
  "since things seem to be constantly in need of work, I think we should make
  a priority of building some quarters for the workers and their families. It
  is not fair to keep them in tents. After the current work is finished you
  should move to their housing. The other projects can wait until
  afterwards."

  The Domani could not help but notice their relieved expressions. She
  smiled and patted the man's arm before leaving to go to her next
  appointment. She knocked on Shea's door and waited for the Initiate to
  invite her inside. "Have you given any thought," Myiona asked, "to what
  area you would like to center your training around? I have not been around
  you enough to spot your talents, but I think it is important that we nurture
  the gifts you have been given and see that they are used to benefit the
  tower."
 

  After talking with Shea, Myiona realized that several of the girls were
  not receiving lessons. She decided to hold an impromptu lesson on battling
  with the power. The girls were gathered in a large field outside of the
  tower grounds. Myiona demonstrated a fire ball and had each of the girls
  come up beside her and try the weave. They moved on to several variations
  of the use of fire before she called an end to the lesson.
 

  Vicky
  aka Myiona

 Genia hurried to the field outside the tower grounds, after making sure she
  knew exactly where the place was... She didn't want to miss this lesson
  after all.
  The First Dragonsworn was there and told them that they would be practicing
  making a fireball. She showed them how to do it and then called on one girl
  at a time to come up beside her and try the weave.
  Genia walked up when she heard her name. She remembered clearly what the
  dragonsworn had done... It had to have been a simple weave, but she wasn't
  sure if she could do it.
  She concentrated and tried to weave the same way that Myiona had. Okay...
  She had the weave now... The fireball was almost exactly like the First
  Dragonsworn's.
  Genia smiled and mentally congratulated herself for mastering this. Then...
  She somehow lost control of the fireball and it headed off towards the
  field where some of the Soldiers were practicing. OOPS!
  Myiona managed to stop the fireball before it caused any damage to anything
  (though it wasn't very big I'm sure). "You should be a little more
  careful," the First Dragonsworn said, but not too sternly.
  Genia hurried back to the rest of the novitiates and sighed. Oh well, one
  fireball gone bad... Hopefully the rest of the lesson would turn out for
  the better.
  But it didn't. Genia couldn't do any of the other fireballs right, and
  didn't even get beyond a mere flame most of the time.
  By the time First Dragonsworn Myiona called an end to the lesson Genia was
  very tired. She let out a deep breath and was very glad that this lesson
  was over.
  She headed towards the girls' dormitory to get some much needed rest. Genia
  listened while some of the girls talked, but didn't jump in. She never had
  fit in real well with other girls because she'd rather do than talk.

  Beth

 

  Luthar Dartheon listened intently to the words of Tareena as she asked of
  him a great task, well it seemed to him to be that anyway. Luthar pondered
  her words, knowing from the first word he could not refuse. His honor was
  at stake, he owed her and this was the way to pay the debt as it were. As
  Tareena finished, Luthar heard the need in her voice and saying nothing, he
  meerly nodded.
  And as Tareena walked away from him he whispered to himself the words of
  his life, "For honor above all, I set myself in motion." Thus Luthar went
  each day after waiting for some word to being to fufill hhis agreement.

  ~Ed

 Myiona walked out to the practice yard with her girls. This lesson was
  in weapons, and she had arranged for the weaponsmaster to find out what
  weapon best suited each. The First Dragonsworn, feeling that things were
  well in hand, walked back to her quarters to complete some paperwork.

  She was only gone a quarter of an hour, before she heard raised voices
  from outside. Myiona hurried outside, fearing something had happened to one
  of the trainees. When she saw what was going on, she became very angry.

  Two men stood on the practice grounds and they were actually pushing
  one of the girls. Myiona hurried over. "Exactly what is going on here?"
  she asked in a stern voice. "Why are you bothering my girls during their
  training time."

  "Look here," one of them said, "It is the little Domani who thinks she
  runs the tower. Maybe we should teach her a lesson instead." The other
  laughed, if a bit nervously.

  "You can try," Myiona said, "but do not be surprised if it come back to
  bite you on your backside."

  The mouthy one grabbed her arms roughly. "Listen, little girl," he
  said, "we are tired of being pushed around by the women. You are not in
  authority over us and can do nothing to us."

  "Perhaps not," she said evenly, "But I can make sure that you regret
  this incident for a long time."

  The man squeezed her arms tighter and glared down into her eyes. "You
  wear those clothes awfully revealing," he said. "Maybe we should see just
  what is underneath them." He was leering at her and she could see a touch
  of madness in his eyes.

  Myiona stood still, letting them do whatever they wanted. She did not
  attempt to channel or defend herself. The lesson could not come from her,
  she realized. It would have to come from one of the asha'men in authority.
  She hoped that it would not take long before someone noticed.

  Vicky
  aka Myiona Sedai

 As La'rece approached the door to her apartments, she quickly slowed her pace,
  finally stopping to gaze down at the box sitting before it. Picking up the box,
  La'rece read the card and smiled. *Well, score one for the Asha'man.*

  Opening the door, the Dragonsworn stepped into her rooms and stopped ...
  something was ...

  Suddenly, a slim, calico cat jumped off the highboard rattling the dishes inside
  and bolted toward an open window. With two flicks of the One Power, the window
  slid home and the cat was held frozen in space, its eyes wild with fear and
  anger.

  La'rece walked over to the cat, not yet ready to release the feline. Slowly,
  the Dragonsworn turned her head to the window that had been open. The sash had
  been latched when she'd left earlier. La'rece chided herself for not having set
  a ward on the windows similar to the one she always left on the door which would
  let her know the moment someone unintended or uninvited had entered her
  residence. But someone had. The question was why?

  Opening the window and looking down the three floors to the ground, La'rece
  doubted it had been Novices trying to play a prank. A thought suddenly occurred
  to her and she rushed to her bedroom. Her jewelry box was on its side, rings,
  necklaces, earrings and brooches strewn across her dressing table and the floor
  ..

  All her jewelry seemed to still be there, but that was not what concerned her.
  Picking up the box, La'rece carefully played across the back with her fingers.
  There was a small click and a drawer suddenly appeared on the side.

  The Green sighed with relief as she gazed down at the drawer's contents: a
  bracelet of interwoven silver and gold; two very plain looking rings - one
  silver, the other gold; and, a worn piece of parchment containing a long list of
  names - all but three with black "X's" across them.

  After quickly delving the entire apartment for unwanted visitors or weaves,
  La'rece slid the drawer back in place, returned the spilt jewels back to the
  box, placed it on her dressing table and wove a nasty surprise for the next
  person with an interest in the boxes contents. Inverting the weave so that only
  she'd be able to see it, La'rece's smile was not kind. Whoever had broken in was
  not a mere thief, and if they knew about the angreal and, more importantly, the
  list La'rece carried ...

  Walking back into the living room, La'rece released the cat and grabbed it by
  the scruff of the neck. Looking it straight in the eyes, she said "I've hunted
  your mistress and her friends for years and that hunt isn't over, but they need
  to remember that they're the prey and I'm the hound. And if they think to bring
  the hunt to me, they'll find cold comfort in having arrived!"

  The cat struggled to get away from the Green who merely scratched its ears while
  her eyes seemed to blaze at something or someone far away.

  *****
  OOC: Well, La'rece has an ongoing battle running with the Black Ajah ... I've
  just thrown it in as a small RP to keep it fresh with her. Nobody needs to
  respond unless they'd like to pursue the issue with her. I figure there's bound
  to be one or two of the little heathens running around the BT, somewhere. This
  will not interfere with any upcoming RP game plans. Anyone want a cat that
  might be a Black sister's fiend?! LOL

  Lauren
  La'rece Barata'gan
  Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 "Here puss puss puss. Here Puss puss puss," a faint voice heard through the
  window, calling, apparently, the cat in La'rece's grasp. The feline squirms
  in her grasp, then struggles free of her hold. Bolting through the nearest
  exit, the lithe cat makes good his escape.
  Outside, Xyranthes, armed with a saucer of water, and a small bowl of tiny
  bites of meat spies the animal.
  "Ahh, there you are, young Tabbamorie, now come here and eat your dinner. Not
  too much now, there are still mice in the library I'd like you to chase away."
  Kneeling, the elderly Asha'man places the two bowls in front of the cat, and
  steps back as the hungry beast begins to feast.

  Peter
  <><

 Mura'shar approached his latest class. It was a class on the One Power
  for Soldiers. He was getting used to some of the newer faces, he spotted
  Duratan and a few others immediately, though there always seemed to be one or
  two new faces nowadays. Maybe one day the Black Tower really will match the
  White.
  The class came to attention when he approached them. "You have all no
  doubt seen what kind of destructive power saidin can be when used as a
  weapon. That is our primary purpose, after all. To be weapons for the Lord
  Dragon. But raw power is not enough. Without control, you will burn yourself
  out or destroy yourself, as well as anyone near you. So today, we will learn
  control."
  He gestured to a table full of mugs that he had set up earlier and a
  barrel of water. "I want you to divide into two groups. Each of you take a
  mug, But only one of you fill it with water. Then I want you to freeze the
  water, rise it o of the mug, and pass it to our partner. Your partner will
  take it, deposit it into his mug, and thaw it out. Then repeat the process.
  It seems like a lot, but you will no need to draw much saidin for this.
  The trick will be manipulating flows, so you don't damage the mugs or drop
  the ice. Now form up in pairs. Anyone who does it right the first time will
  be allowed to leave a few minutes early for lunch"
  Most of the Soldiers quickly found partners and got to work. But one
  Soldier stood apart from the others. He didn't look like he was eager to
  join any off the others.
  Mura'shar approached him. He was a Kandori, big like a blacksmith and
  definitely wanted to be left alone. Mura'shar understood that. He had a
  similar attitude when he first joined. Before combat forced him to place his
  trust in others
  What's your name, Soldier?" he asked as the others started working on
  drawing the heat out of their water.
  "Nick, sir" was the only answer he got.
  "Well, Nick, since there seems to be an odd number of Soldiers in this
  class, I guess I shall have to partner with you," with that he took a mug,
  scooped up some water in it and backed up a few steps.
  He channeled into it, and drew the heat from the water, dissipating it in
  the ground beneath him. A flow of Air slowly raised the almost-frozen mass
  from the mug and it slowly drifted towards Nick.
  "Be ready to catch it when it gets halfway between us" Mura'shar
  instructed "And be careful. I want to leave early" he grinned as e said
  that, hoping a little humor would relax the Soldier.

  Jake
  Marked Asha'man

 Genia followed First Dragonsworn Myiona along with the other novitiates.
  Today they were going to get to practice with weapons! She'd never used one
  before, but was excited at the idea of learning to use one.
  When the Weaponsmaster got there, Myiona left to do something. He started
  them all out with a staff, having them practice with each other. After a
  few minutes, he told them to continue practicing and said that he would be
  back with the next weapons.
  It wasn't long before two Soldiers walked up to them. "You girls don't
  belong here," one of them said, emphasizing the words 'girls'. The other
  laughed, nodding his head.
  Genia stepped forward. "I have as much a right to be here as you," she spat
  back and snorted.
  "Oh yeah, little girl?" the second said. "This tower belongs to us, the
  Asha'men."
  Genia laughed, "You can't call yourselves men! Besides, you're only
  soldiers... And with an attitude like that you don't deserve to ever be an
  Asha'man!"
  "Oh yeah?" the second guy asked and pushed Genia into the mud.
  "You're going to pay dearly for that!" Genia shouted, jumping at the guy.
  She punched him in the nose then he pushed her.
  "Exactly what is going on here?" First Dragonsworn Myiona asked in a stern
  voice. "Why are you bothering my girls during their training time?"
  Genia lowered her head, half in shame but still glared at the guy who had
  pushed her.
  "Look here," the first guy said, "It is the little Domani who thinks she
  runs the tower. Maybe we should teach her a lesson instead." The second
  laughed, though a bit nervously.
  "You can try," Myiona said, "but do not be surprised if it come back to bite
  you on your backside."
  The first one grabbed Myiona's arms roughly, "Listen, little girl," he said,
  "we are tired of being pushed around by the women. You are not in authority
  over us and can do nothing to us."
  "Perhaps not," she said evenly, "But I can make sure that you regret this
  incident for a long time."
  The soldier glared at the dragonsworn and said, "You wear those clothes
  awfully revealing," he said. "Maybe we should see just what is underneath
  them."
  Genia growled. Just wait, Myiona'll give him a good lesson, she would!
  But Myiona just stood there. Genia blinked. Whatever was the First
  Dragonsworn thinking? Genia started to lunge at the second guy, but found
  that someone was holding her back.   anyone wants to they can>
  Genia turned to the person holding her arm. "Let me go!" she exclaimed.
  "I'm going to teach that big bully a lesson or two!" Even though she had
  turned out on the worst end in the first fight, with a broken nose, several
  bruises, and mud all over her clothes.

  Beth

 Aramis started his day in a good mood. Aside form the weather being
  uncommonly pleasant, there were rumors of new orders for the whole Storm
  Team. If the whole Storm Team was going, then that meant blood on the ground.
  That meant something else to do besides watch Soldiers try to kill their
  instructors with poorly made weaves and sheer ignorance.
  Since his return to the Tower a few nights ago, Aramis had paced the
  entire grounds in an effort to find something to do. He hated this idleness.
  But Taim said to be patient. The Tsorovan'm'haels said to be patient. The
  Baijan'm'haels said be patient. Aramis wanted to tell them all that they
  sounded like his mother on Bel Tine. He didn't want to be patient. He wanted
  somethi... wait. What is that?
  He didn't know who the Asha'man was, but the Aes Sedai looked alot like
  Myiona. Myiona was catching hell from someone and it sure wasn't Mura'shar.
  Or any other Asha'man of authority, either, for that matter. Aramis didn't
  like to be nosy, but the First Dragonsworn was not to be treated roughly.
  Something here wasn't right.
  And then the two training Novitiates began screaming. The Asha'man's
  hands seemed indecently itchy. Nope, this was not right at all. Genia almost
  hurled herself at the nameless Asha'man but Aramis grabbed her arm just in
  time. She screamed a protest, but Aramis growled at her, "Wait, girl, let us
  handle this. He'll tear you apart." Aramis quickly latched his hook into the
  back of the man's coat and yanked hard while he threw his shoulder between
  Myiona and the Asha'man. All three went down in a heap with an explosion of
  cursing. His friend looked to intervene, but someone kicked his feet out from
  under him. Aramis threw a shield between Asha'man and Saidin. He looked over
  to Myiona, who was regaining her feet. "Is your bonded coming, Aes Sedai?"
  She nodded, with a bit of an evil grin twitching the corners of her mouth.
  "Good," grunted Aramis as he threw himself bodily on top of the Asha'man,
  who was still tangled in the rags of his black coat, "This might hurt just a
  bit, my friend."
  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  ooc: I hope this wasn't meant for anyone in particular. If it was, Aramis
  will find his way out. Later!
  James

 Now that's intriguing thought La'rece as she looked down from her [open] window
  to the Asha'man below. It was Xyranthes. The Arafellan and the Cairhinien had
  never been particulary close, but even as distant as the Tower's librarian could
  be, the Dragonsworn was flabbergasted though no sign of it could be detected on
  her face.

  With the cat under his arm, Xyranthes glanced up at the window and met La'rece's
  eye. The Dragonsworn's face was expressionless. The Asha'man inclined his head
  in the barest of nods to which La'rece arched an eyebrow and turned from the
  window.

  *Xyranthes? No. I cannot believe that he would have been searching my rooms, and
  that cat certainly couldn't open a locked jewelry box ...* The box had been
  locked, she was felt certain of it ... and yet ...

  Trying to put suspicion from her mind, La'rece decided she needed to find out
  what had become of her wayward novice, Raileine and headed out of her rooms.
  Thinking about the cup from Mura'shar made her smile again. She wondered if
  Myiona knew how fortunate she really was.

  Walking across the Tower grounds, La'rece came across a commotion. Aramis was
  *on top* of two men and, Raileine and the other novices standing around seemed
  upset, though Myiona, who stood to the side seemed composed and at ease.
  La'rece had been Aes Sedai long enough to know that outward appearances were not
  always reliable.

  Stepping closer, she waited to hear what had just occurred.

  Lauren
  La'rece Barata'gan
  Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 Wind howled, ocean sprayed her, soaking her to the bone, and not a piece
  of dry clothing, skin, hair, or anything touched her. She wreaked of the
  ocean water and bird dung that covered the ship deck. Ritania was tucked up
  into a small curled up little ball. Battered, bruised and beaten to a
  litteral bloody pulp she wimpered there upon the ground, in sheer pain.A
  swift kick to the head sent her away once more, away from the seering pain
  that was in her head. Her sul'dame dragged her up and off her feet, only to
  send her sprawling to the otherside of the deck. The leash the sul'dame held
  snapped at her neck and sent a jolt of emense pain through her back and head.
  "Get up you lazy no good damane!" She hissed and Ritania tried, for the
  life of her she tried. But she couldn't. She couldn't budge fromwhere she was
  curled up in a ball, wimpering and cowering to her sul'dame. A jolt through
  the bond they shared sent Ritania crying more loudly. "Ariniya get up this
  instant!"
  This kick flung her around the deck, mopping up more water and bird dung
  as she slammed into a poll. Blood poured from a newly obtained gash at her
  forehead as her sul'dame dragged her to her feet, leaning her against the
  pole for support. Ritania was sobbing now, tears mixed with blood and salt
  water streamed down her face, along with dirt, sweat and any other object
  she'd attained from her unnatural sweeping of the deck.
  Before her sul'dame had another chance to kick her around the deck,
  another walked up. "You'll take that damane and treat her well. She's well
  broken in by now, just needs a little rest and she'll be up to par, now off
  with ya." She said in her Seanchan accent.
  "Yes ma'am.." Ritania's sul'dam said begrudingly and dragged the little
  missfit off to her 'bed'. Her lovely bed consisted of.. rotting hay covered
  by one damp and moly blanket in the depths of the ship. Ritania curled up and
  was hurt enough taht she couldn't even cry herself to sleep.
  The next few days went by and she got rest and food.. something she'd
  never thought she'd see again. And when the 4th day came along, Ritania was
  brought up to deck again, to take the duty of the winds. A storm was
  appraoching and her sul'dame pushed her to the ground. Through the leash and
  a'dam get up she manipulated Ritania's powers of channeling to keep the worst
  of the storm from hitting the Seanchan ship.
  Finally the storm was upon them. Tossing and turning the ship, side to
  side, front to back, and making Ritania extremely queasy. She covered her
  mouth and her sul'dame kicked her to keep her in control of the weather.
  Ritania saw it before anyone else.. a wave the size of the boat was
  crashing towards them and with one swift shot the wave hit. The boat tossed
  and all of those on deck were thrown off. Her sul'dame lost the bracelet
  holding the a'dam and was tossed far away from Ritania. The boat sailed on,
  before another wave washed it down and started to sink the great ship.
  There was no way out, and Ritania was clutching on for life. Any
  driftwood or anything of the sort was too far for her to swim too, and she
  hadn't been trained very much in the art of treading water. She was growing
  hazy and tired... She reached out with the source, her last chance of hope
  hoovering within her reach. She found no colar attached to her neck and
  quickly, before the colar returned (a dreaded fear for Ritania) she
  channeled, a precise Gateway, to a haven.
  Subcounsiouly Ritania moved through the gateway. Promptly, following the
  close of the Gateway, Ritania last all consciousness. When she finally
  regained it, shew as slung over the shoulder of a man. Groggily she lifted
  her head to peer at her suroundings. Just as she was trying to figure out
  where she was, and had narrowed it down to Caemlyn or Cairhien (from her
  studies before she became Damane) one of the men spoke to her.
  "The Seanchan brat is awake," He told the other and Ritania gulped.
  Obviously her appearance gave away the look of a Seanchan. Hopefully these
  men could tell the difference between a Damane and a Sul'dam. Most likely
  they'd spare a Daman.. or so Ritania thought. She looked, big eyes upon the
  man that had spoken.
  The man that had been holding her threw her to the ground and hoovered
  over her. Ritania didn't recognize the pins they had on their colars, but
  both were dressed in black. She feared that it might be the dreaded Asha'men
  that she'd heard of. And if it were, then she was deffinatly in Caemlyn, and
  they were brining her to the Black Tower. Gulping she attempted to cower away
  from them, but the man put a foot on her chest, pinning her in place.
  "We won't hurt you, Damane. There are a few like you back at the Tower,
  we'll bring you there and let them handle you, I don't feel like Tareena
  holding a grudge on me!" Ritania was still shivering and cowering before the
  two men, one sighed and picked her up again, dragging her all the way back to
  the Tower.
  It was two days later, and Ritania had a terrible feeling in the pit of
  her stomach. She was a long way from home, and though the people were
  extremely nice, she just felt out of place. Home sickness set in, as it had
  for her in her first year of Damane, but then, people hadn't been so nice.
  She'd seen all the other Novitiates together, and Ritania had a fear to go
  and talk to them. Two in particular had tried to become friends with her, but
  gave up after a little bit. Ritania was jealous at their friendship,a nd thus
  wouldn't allow them to have one with her. Now she watched as Raileine and
  Gratianasil walked passed.
  Her eyes filled up with water and flashbacks brought pain to her mind,
  where as the bruises and physical beatings brought pain to her living soul.
  She burst into sobs, feeling a jolt of pain rack her body, not knowing which
  it was coming from, mental or physical. Before she knew it, another woman was
  upon her, and her arms around Ritania.
  Ritania gave into her feelings and cried on that woman's shoulder. When
  she'd composed herself, she looked up into the eyes of a certain ex-damane.
  She gasped and almost tried to get away from her, but relized, with her
  surroundings that she was still in Caemlyn, and wasn't going mad.
  "I.. I'm R-Ritania." She stammered shyly.
  "I'm Tareena," The other woman responded. "Care to tell me what's got you
  so distraught?" Ritania nodded slowly, she figured she'd have to get it out
  one of these days, and to an ex-Damane like herself, it wouldn't be AS
  terrible.
  "I just don't feel like I should be here, it's like I don't belong here
  and I'm out of place. I know it sounds like non-sense, but I wish I could
  explain that to my brain. I dare not to think that I'm loosing what little
  mind that wasn't beaten out of me as a Damane, but sometimes that's the only
  track I can go on. As well I feel like there's no one here that I can relate
  to.. except you, but I've only *heard* of you. Raileine and Gratianasil tried
  to make friends with me, but I just.. didn't feel ready to comit to a
  friendship. And I'd feel stupid going to them now and asking them to be
  friends.. y'know?" She sighed and continued to babble on about the pains of
  physical and mentallity for another few minutes before she was spoken through
  and through. She looked to Tareena for any sign that she might not have been
  lost in Ritania's babbling.

  <>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>
  OOC: Thanks Jamie for the title, and Tareena for the chance of a welcome :)
  This is quite different from the RPing that I'm used to, but I kinda like it!
  As well :waves to everyone: I'm Janet and I obviously play Ritania, Pease be
  with you!

  ~~~Janet~~~Ritania~~~

 
  Fire was definatly not one of Gratianasil's strenghts. She pushed on the
  block, but nothing happened. She'd already helped Raileine release the
  tension on her own block, but now what was Atia to do with her's. Cursing she
  sat down on the ground and pounded at the dirt. Raileine looked at her, but
  Atia shot dagger glares back at the older woman to leave her alone, as on cue
  Raileine resuemed her own work.
  Atia hadn't been at the White Tower long enough for them to relize what
  was blocking her. The only lesson they'd tried to remove the block was to try
  and force it out of her brain. She grabbed on her hair and yanked, and yelped
  from the pain that shot up her head. Rubbing her temples she tried pushing on
  the block again.
  To her utter and complete surprise it budged, but didn't release it's
  grib on her brain. It was starting to get on her nerves. Again, another push
  and she budged it back furthur. Atia was making progrees. After a few more
  the child had ridden herself of the block, momentarily. Keeping half her
  concentration on the block and keeping it out of the way, she began to weave
  the weaves.
  Her fire was pathetically weak and the flame she had worked died out
  immediatly. She looked at Raileine's floating orb and immediatly felt
  jealousy towards the Librarian. ~* She's been around Aes Sedai all her life,
  jealousy isn't correct. *~ She corrected herself as she worked on the weaves.
  Commotion was heard towards the side of the field and Atia jumped up. Her
  block slammed back into place and her weaves completely died. Myionia was
  argueing with a few Soldiers and it didn't look pretty. It was intereveaned
  by Genia and then Aramis. Atia felt curriosity grabbing hte best of her, but
  she decided not to go along with it.
  She and Raileine had had their own encounters with the arrogant Soldiers,
  and it hadn't been pretty. They'd attacked Raileine's weak spot: Books. Atia
  herself had tried to stand up for her friend, for the only reason of being
  her friend, but it had been useless. There was a deffinate problem with the
  arrogance of the Asha'men in training.
 

  ~*~ Kate ~*~
  Gratianasil Wysee

 Myiona looked at La'rece and smiled. "Nice lesson," she said, "don't
  you think? This attitude has gone on long enough, in my opinion. They
  wanted to bully someone and I allowed them to bully me. I do not imagine
  their actions will continue. What do you think?"

  Myiona was far from calm on the inside. She was filled with a icy
  anger that wanted to vent itself on someone. She was also very upset that
  her bondmate had not arrived. Surely he had sensed something. She could
  even feel that he was nearby, but had not come to see if she was all right.

  The First Dragonsworn realized that the Novitiates and Initiates were
  still standing there. "You are dismissed for the day," she said kindly.
  "Genia, you go see Ariana about your bruises and such. In fact, you may
  take tomorrow off as well. I think you all deserve to have some fun. I
  will personally take you to the city for some shopping and relaxation. Any
  of the Dragonsworn are invited to go as well, and you may tell them that
  from me."

  Myiona turned her attention back to the men on the ground. She grasped
  Saidar and wrapped both of the intruders in flows of air. "Aramis," she
  said sweetly, "why don't you get these rats out of here. I personally am
  sick of looking at them. And, if you see my bondmate, tell him that I will
  be . . . nevermind, I will deliver the message myself when and if I see him
  again."

  The Domani turned from the men and walked back toward her own rooms.
  She could feel several people looking at her, but she did not care what any
  of them thought. The First Dragonsworn was angry, disappointed, and sad.
  She was having a hard time controling her emotions and knew the best thing
  to do was to find a place to be alone for a little while.

 "Wait, girl, let us handle this. He'll tear you apart," the man holding
  Genia's arm said.
  Genia sighed and stepped back towards the rest of the novitiates. Besides,
  she wouldn't be much help. She looked at the ground, feeling bad for
  fighting... ~h well, I'm used to getting in trouble,~ Genia thought.
  Genia looked back up and saw Dragonsworn La'rece approaching them.
  "Nice lesson," Myiona said, "don't you think? This attitude has gone on
  long enough, in my opinion. They wanted to bully someone and I allowed them
  to bully me. I do not imagine their actions will continue. What do you
  think?"
  Then she turned to the Initiates and Novitiates and said, ou are dismissed
  for the day. Genia, you go see Ariana about your bruises and such. In
  fact, you may take tomorrow off as well. I think you all deserve to have
  some fun. I will personally take you to the city for some shopping and
  relaxation. Any of the Dragonsworn are invited to go as well, and you may
  tell them that from me."
  Genia nodded and found her way to the infirmary. "Is Dragonsworn Ariana
  in?" she asked one of the Initiates nearby.
  "Yes," she said frowning at all Genia's bruises and broken nose.
  "Thank you," Genia said, then walked into the infirmary (I'm not sure what
  the infirmary'd be like, but sure they'd have one... right? :-) )
  Genia walked in and recognized Ariana as one of the women who had found her,
  the one who healed her. "Hiya," Genia said to Ariana. "Ariana, Myiona told
  me to come and see you."

  Beth

 "Great- there's definitely a need for another Healer around here! And
  musicians are always welcome, at least in my book. And I suppose personal
  questions are how one gets to know someone," Ariana said, and Collin looked up
  at her.
  "I'm fairly new here, in truth. I am from
  Amadicia, actually; my mother was a noble and my father a commoner. I can
  channel, as could my mother, but she never went to Tar Valon. I did; so
  technically I'm Ariana Kantori, Aes Sedai of the Yellow Ajah as well as Marked
  Dragonsworn of the Black Tower. And, of course, high lady of Caermyr, though
  that is long past. Still, sometimes it comes in handy to have such a long
  name." She paused for a moment, then asked, "And you? Did your father teach
  you your playing skills? And where did you pick up an interest in Healing?"
  Collin smiled and said, "I come from Caemlyn. Both my parents were nobles from
  Caemlyn. My mother died when I was born. I do have four sisters, though, and
  they tell me all sorts of things about my mom, since my father doesn't say much
  about her." He sighed, and then said, "My father taught me some about the
  violin, but he couldn't all the time so he also hired someone. My father gave
  me his violin as a going-away present," Collin said, looking at his instrument.
  "When I found out I could channel, we all knew that there was no option but for
  me to come here. I knew the Aes Sedai could Heal, so I began hoping that I
  would be able to."
  He smiled at Ariana and said, "I heard people say that Asha'men are only
  dangerous weapons." His eyes clouded with fear and sadness and he whispered, "I
  don't want to kill people... I don't want to be dangerous either. That's why i
  hope that I will be able to heal."
  He smiled at Ariana and asked, "So what's the black tower like... I mean, what
  should I expect? Do you go on missions and stuff like that...?"

  Nick
  AKA Collin
  Well, it took me a while to get this one out. :)

 He smiled at Ariana and said, "I heard people say that Asha'men are only
  dangerous weapons." His eyes clouded with fear and sadness and he whispered,
  "I don't want to kill people... I don't want to be dangerous either. That's
  why i hope that I will be able to heal."
  Ariana felt for the poor young man. She tried to answer thoughtfully, not
  with what she thought he would like to hear. "I don't enjoy killing either-
  I've always preferred healing to harming. Unfortunately, there are a large
  number of people who want, or have wanted, to kill me... I know how to kill,
  but I hope I'm not dangerous." She smiled, sadly. "Unfortunately, part of
  the necessary Asha'man- and Dragonsworn- training is in killing. The
  Asha'men are weapons, but so are all of us. And even Healing can be a
  weapon, in that it is a way to keep a fighting group's strength and numbers
  up." The Healer considered for a moment. You will have to learn how to
  defend yourself and your comrades, but whether or not you enjoy it is up to
  you. As for healing... I don't know that there is much in the way of
  classes, not for the Asha'men, since it is such a rare talent combination,
  but surely there is something." He smiled at Ariana and asked, "So what's
  the black tower like... I mean, what should I expect? Do you go on missions
  and stuff like that...?"
  "Yes, we do. One group of us just recently got back from one- to the Isle
  of Madmen, out in the Aryth Ocean." She could not repress a shudder at the
  memory of that horrible sea trip, or of the weave-gone-wrong that had
  incidentally placed them at the shores of the island. "There is more
  adventure on those trips than any soul could ever need, and probably ever
  want, but they have their fun parts." She smiled. Like exploring lost
  cities, seeing wonders from the Age of Legends, making wonderful finds...
  Abruptly she snapped her wandering mind back to the young man. What was she
  doing, going off on mental tangents? Was it lack of sleep? "I hope you come
  to enjoy it here, the good along with the not so good. I have to go- I have
  a premonition that more work awaits me. But it was great to meet you!" She
  smiled, and added more seriously, "and as for Healing- yes, I think it does
  help to heal as well as kill; to restore something of what you took. But
  that's just the opinion of one young and naive Healer; many others seem to
  manage without much guilt. I wish you luck! And if you ever need someone to
  talk to, well, hunt me down in Novice classes or my rooms somewhere, okay?"
  She bade the young man farewell and limped off to see what was next on her
  great list of things to do.

 La'rece watched as Myiona walked away. One of the Novitiates started after her
  but was stopped by La'rece's hand on her arm. The Green shook her head wondering
  where Mura'shar was. Clearly, Myiona had expected him to arrive. A bondmate
  would sense clearly the distress and anger through the bond. *Where is that
  man?*

  Turning, La'rece looked at the two men Aramis was dealing with; they were boys
  really. Would be, village toughs, trying to bully young women, and now even
  Dragonsworn. The Arafellan respected Myiona's ploy in dealing with the
  miscreants, however La'rece could not resist a closer encounter. Walking over to
  the two men, the Dragonsworn smiled pleasantly, their heated glares making no
  impression on the woman approaching them. But as she neared the men her smile
  faded and her eyes hardened taking the heat from their eyes and replacing it
  with bitter uncertainty. Pitching her voice for their ears alone, the
  Dragonsworn said, "the next time ..." She didn't finish. She didn't need to. For
  the two soldiers there was no doubting the look in her eyes.

  Turning to Aramis who raised an eyebrow at her, she smiled, patted his cheek and
  thanked him as she walked away, this time toward the library.

  Lauren
  La'rece Barata'gan
  Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 Throughout the lesson, Mura'shar was bothered by something coming through
  the bond. Myiona was upset, furious, really, at someone. Twice he caught
  himself gazing in the direction he knew her to be. But he stopped himself.
  Whatever it was probably none of his business. And he pitied the poor fool
  who managed to get on her bad side.
  Still, he dismissed the class as soon as he could and headed towards the
  sight of Myiona's disturbance. When he got there, a small crowd was
  dispersing. He saw La'rece walking away. She saw him, shook her head sadly
  and kept going.
  A somewhat dusty-looking Aramis ran up to Mura'shar "Where have you been?
  We were all wondering when, or if, you would show up!"
  "I was teaching a class. I sensed something was going on, but I couldn't
  get away. What happened?"
  Aramis briefly outlined Myiona's confrontation with the two toughs and
  how they roughed up a couple of Novitiates and almost Myiona herself.
  "Myiona's pretty upset with you" Aramis finished "She thought you'd come runni
  ng when you sensed what happened"
  "I should have, now that I know what exactly happened" Mura'shar growled.
  "Tell me who these thugs are. I'll have a little talk with them myself. If
  Myiona left enough of them for me to talk to, that is."
  In private, Mura'shar wondered how, or if, he would talk his way out of
  this one. The one time I wasn't being overprotective and look what happens.
  I just can't win!

  Jake
  Marked Asha'man
  late again

 This was really getting nowhere fast. Now that they had the undivided
  attention of the entire Tower the little fray seemed like a bunch of yokels
  in a tavern brawl. Oh well. Impatient to finish this and find Mura'shar, he
  released his captives amid a flurry of threats, curses and oaths. They
  swaggered off, trying to salvage what dignity they could, but Aramis saved
  them the trouble. A quick twitch of Air left both of them standing very
  embarrassed and very naked in front of everyone. Insult to injury is always
  the best.
  Now, where was Mura'shar?
  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  ::insert this just before Jake's RP::
  JR

 Myiona sat in her room, trying to calm herself, but having very little
  success. She wanted to scream or throw things. Instead, she paced her room
  going over the things she intended to say to Mura'shar when and if he ever
  showed up.

  The Domani finally gave up and grabbed a vase she had never been too
  fond of and hurled it at the door. A string of cursing followed, venting
  some of the anger she was trying to hold at bay. Then he kicked the post of
  her bed, which was not a very good idea since the bed was very sturdy and
  resisted the kick. Her toe was throbbing and she had to sit down.

  "Light blasted men," she muttered, "starting something like that and
  ruining a perfectly good day. I was in a good mood until they happened in
  my way. If I do not think they have been dealt with properly, I am going to
  tie them to their saddles and deposit them in the blight or maybe in the
  midst of a troop of Whitecloaks." She grinned at the picture her mind was
  forming.

  She begin picturing all sorts of punishments that she could inflict
  upon them and her mood lightened considerably. In fact, she was laughing in
  a few minutes, but it wasn't a joyful laugh. It had a blood-thirsty,
  half-hysterical sound to it. For good measure, she picked up another vase
  and hurled it at the door.

  A timid knock sounded at her door seconds after the last vase hit.
  "Don't come in," she warned, "unless you want to lose your head or another
  important body part."

 Mura'shar hesitated before knocking on Myiona's door. Something had just
  been smashed against the door. He had been sensing strange mood swings from
  her. First she was furious, then he could swear she was cackling with glee.
  Then angry again. His toe still throbbed in sympathetic pain from when she
  kicked something.
  When he did knock, all he heard was a curt Don't come in, unless you want
  to lose your head or another
  important body part."
  "We can talk through the door if you like" Mura'shar replied. "But you
  may want to open the door to see what I brought you"
  Myiona opened the door and was about to snarl something at him when her
  eyes fell on the other visitors. "What are they doing here?"
  "I'm sorry I wasn't there to stop these two" Mura'shar said. He gestured
  to the two thugs that had caused all the trouble. "I sensed that something
  upset you. But I didn't think it was anything too serious. If I had known
  what exactly was happening, I would have dismissed my class and run to your
  side. And things may have gone better for these two" he gave the two
  Soldiers a shake.
  "I got their names from Aramis. I tracked down their quarters and had a
  little 'talk' with them" It was actually a lengthy discussion about
  respectful treatment of women in general and particularly the First
  Dragonsworn. There were several points emphasized with the One Power.
  Nothing serious or would leave a mark. He let their minds do most of the
  work for him. When he was finished, they were more than willing to go with
  him and perform the tasks he assigned with him.
  Before Myiona could reply, he barked to the two ruffians "Show her
  what you learned!" They dropped to their knees before Myiona and began
  blubbering apologies and offering restitution. They continued until
  Mura'shar kicked them to shut them up.
  "I will take them to each of the Novitiates they roughed up and have them
  apologize the same way. If you like, they can apologize to all the
  Dragonsworn, even the whole Black Tower. And they'll do it, won't you?" The
  two nodded their heads eagerly. Willing to do anything to escape the wrath of
  the Baijan'm'hael and the First Dragonsworn.
  Myiona was startled at the display. She stared openmouthed at the three
  of them. Then gave herself a little shake. Whatever she expected from him,
  this wasn't it. "We should talk inside" said said slowly. "they won't run
  off if we leave them here, will they?" she spoke of them like they were
  half-trained dogs.
  "They wouldn't dare" he replied, giving them an unpleasant grin. The two
  prompltly sat down on the floor and remained still. Mura'shar stepped into
  Myiona's quarters and closed the door, bracing for the tounge-lashing he was
  sure to come. He wouldn't try to defend himself

  Jake
  Markd Asha',am
  Bringer of Justice

 Myiona was surprised that Mura'shar brought the two men to her quarters
  to apologize. She did not really believe they were sorry, but they feared
  what would happen if they did not do what the Asha'man requested. Still, it
  seemed out of character for the two bullies to be afraid of anyone and she
  was very impressed with her bondmate's display of controlled anger.

  "We should talk inside" Myiona said slowly. She knew that the men did
  not need to hear anything personal between the Asha'man they had learned to
  respect and his bondmate. Looking back to the men she asked, "They won't
  run off if we leave them here, will they?"

  "They wouldn't dare," he replied. He seemed to communicate something
  to the men by the look he gave them. The two men sat down, waiting for the
  Asha'man to come back.

  Once inside the room, Myiona was not really sure what to say. She
  walked over to a window and looked outside at the plants growing around the
  courtyard. "I am glad Aramis was on the practice grounds today," she said
  rubbing her arms absently. "Things might have gotten a lot more unpleasant
  if he had not stepped in. The girls needed to see that not all of the men
  at the Tower thought of them as badly as those two. I could have dealt with
  them, but it would not have meant as much. Still, I feel they need a reward
  after what they have been through."

  Myiona walked over and poured herself a cup of tea. She could see that
  her hands were still shaking from the actual attack and her resulting anger.
  "I will be taking them," she said, "and any of the other women who wish to
  go, to my Aunt's home tomorrow. I promised a day of shopping and
  relaxation. It should be a nice day for us all, getting our minds off of
  the problems we have had to deal with . . ."

  She stopped abruptly as Mura'shar grabbed her arms. Myiona could not
  stop the gasp of pain he caused by touching the bruises one of the men had
  left upon her. She turned her face away so he would not see the tears in
  her eyes or the ones running down her face.

  Vicky
  aka Myiona

 Genia nodded and found her way to the infirmary. "Is Dragonsworn Ariana
  in?" she asked one of the Initiates nearby.
  "Yes," she said frowning at all Genia's bruises and broken nose.
  "Thank you," Genia said, then walked into the infirmary (I'm not sure what
  the infirmary'd be like, but sure they'd have one... right? :-) )
  Genia walked in and recognized Ariana as one of the women who had found her,
  the one who healed her. "Hiya," Genia said to Ariana. "Ariana, Myiona told
  me to come and see you." >>
  Actually, until they get one built, my rooms have sorta ended up serving that
  purpose :) We've been out of the tower more than in it, since I was raised,
  so it never got planned. So I'll set this at my rooms- I do hold rough
  "infirmary" hours for the injured, etc.
  "Hello," Ariana said, wondering at the intrusion. "There is a problem?" The
  novice looked a little abashed, and Ariana suddenly guessed what the
  'problem' was. "Bruises, or something worse?" she asked, guessing that
  either training had gotten out of hand, or that fool of a dedicated or his
  friends had decided to cause more trouble. The girl nodded. "Just bruises,
  I think, Healer," came the reply. "All right. Hold still," she embraced the
  Source and quickly wove a simple (relatively) healing weave, one that would
  not have the effect of the generic White Tower-taught Healing. It was a
  rather disconcerting feeling, she knew from personal experience, since it was
  all that most Aes Sedai knew how to use. When she had finished, she smiled
  at the relief on her patient's face, and asked, "Do you know where Atia is?
  She was supposed to find me, but I haven't seen her." The girl shook her
  head, and the Healer sighed. Could anything ever be simple? "All right,
  thank you anyway." Now, where was that novice?

 A few minutes after Mura'shar left, a knock sounded at Myiona's door.
  She walked over slowly and opened it, surprised to see La'rece standing
  outside. The Domani smiled warmly and invited her inside.

  The First Dragonsworn poured the other woman a cup of tea and sat
  across from her. Myiona asked, "How are things going for you? I know it
  must be difficult with both of your bondmates away from the tower. I was
  very surprised when I heard about it, I can tell you. Janara and Ivan were
  two people that I never imagined leaving like that."

  She listened to the other woman's explanation of what had happened and
  nodded occasionally. Myiona knew how important it was to have people to
  talk to when things were bothering you. She sensed that there was more that
  La'rece was not saying, but was unsure of how to get to the root of the
  problem.

  Vicky
  aka Myiona

 The tea was just the right temperature and held the perfect amount of honey.
  La'rece felt the wonderful comfort and relaxation she had previously reserved
  for conversations with either Ivan or Janara. The First Dragonsworn listened
  as La'rece explained the dilema of having both her bondmates leave. There was
  no blame to be assigned; both Ivan and Janara had left, at separate times, for
  reasons that could not be denied. The Green had simply not been prepared to
  depart with either of her comrades on their individual journeys; journeys that
  might very well lead them to their deaths and at the least, possible never bring
  them back to La'rece Barata'gan. It was difficult.

  "… so, I guess the thing that keeps me sane … is that I've always been and will
  always be a survivor. Or at least I've always seen myself as such." With a
  small chuckle, La'rece paused to take a sip of tea. Looking out the window she
  could see the upper floors of the Library. "It is odd, though …" her voice
  trailed off as she thought about the feeling of being watched in the Library,
  the rifling of her jewelry box in her rooms, and the cat that Xyranthes claimed
  to be the owner. *Xyranthes …*

  "What is?" Myiona asked. La'rece turned to the First Dragonsworn and realized
  that she had stopped talking and allowed her thoughts to wander back to her
  earlier experience in the Library.

  "Oh … sorry. Being alone again. Odd." The Arafellan glanced out the window
  toward the Library once again. "Very … odd." Turning back to Myiona, La'rece
  put on a sly grin and asked, "So, what's the plan with the Novices? I'm afraid
  I've likely frightened poor Raileine out of her wits as far as trailworn
  Dragonsworn go!" Both women laughed at the thought of the Black Tower's novices
  being overly frightened of the Tower's Dragonsworn. Compared to the rigid
  social and political structure of the White Tower, the Black Tower was
  practically a country estate retreat. Yet the two former Greens knew that for
  the young women who had already taken a huge risk joining a group run by male
  channelers, dealing with onery Dragonsworn could be a fearsome proposition.

  "Well, I've a bit of a surprise planned for them. One I think they'll enjoy.."
  La'rece grinned broadly and nodded her approval as Myiona layed out her plan to
  take the Novices to her Aunt's estate for a retreat and some shopping … an
  activity even a battle veteran like the Arafellan could appreciate.

  Lauren
  La'rece Barata'gan
  Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 
  Duratan listened intently as Mura'shar gave directions for their next lesson.
  "I want you to divide into two groups. Each of you take a mug, But only one of
  you fill it with water. Then I want you to freeze the water, rise it of the
  mug, and pass it to our partner. Your partner will take it, deposit it into his
  mug, and thaw it out. Then repeat the process. It seems like a lot, but you
  will no need to draw much saidin for this. The trick will be manipulating
  flows, so you don't damage the mugs or drop the ice. Now form up in pairs.
  Anyone who does it right the first time will be allowed to leave a few minutes
  early for lunch"
  Duratan quickly looked around and headed for one of the new guys. "Hi," he
  said. "I am Duratan. It looks like neither of us has a partner yet."

 Myiona awoke early and walked to the dining hall for breakfast.
  Usually she spent the mornings working in her room having breakfast sent up.
  Today was a special occasion and the First Dragonsworn intended that her
  girls had the best day possible.

  A group of young women sat talking excitedly about the trip they were
  going on that day. Myiona sat down, after getting her own food, and
  answered the questions they had. After the others left, she sat alone at
  the table making sure all of the women knew about the outing.

  When breakfast hours were over, Myiona walked back to her rooms to
  finish preparing for the day. She could hear a buzz of noise from the
  courtyard where they were to meet and smiled at the enthusiasm such a simple
  thing go cause.

  At the exact time they were to leave, she stepped out into the
  courtyard and opened a gateway to her aunt's home. When everyone had gone
  through she closed the gate. "Ladies," she said, "carriage are being
  prepared as I speak to take us into town for some shopping. We will meet at
  the Golden Goose for lunch. I have a little gift for each of you to help
  make your day more fun. It isn't as much as I would like to give you, but
  even my resources are limited."

  As each of the women filed past her, the First Dragonsworn gave them a
  small bag of money. She smiled and told them to have fun and stay out of
  trouble. Within a matter of moments they were inside the carriages and
  riding toward town.

 Tareena stood conversing quietly with a few of the Dragonsworn before
  they entered into the waygate and left for their shopping trip. Tareena had
  opted not to go with the group, deciding instead to finish up some work and
  then spend some time in her favorite place. With a smile she waved at the
  group, noting especially that Ritania was among the group and appeared, by
  the shy smile on her face, to be looking forward to it.
  Tareena remembered those painful moments when she had come upon the
  novitiate, sobbing her heart out. For a few moments, Tareena stood there and
  watched, unsure of how she should approach this young woman. Of everyone in
  the tower, Tareena had unique experience with the pain and loneliness she
  must be experiencing. As a former damane herself, she new the hardships and
  hassles that came with that heritage, especially in a tower designed to
  oppose the very existence of where she came. It would be a struggle for this
  woman to carve a place for herself, as Tareena had. Hopefully, she too,
  would find friends and perhaps a bondmate to share with as well. Gathering
  herself up, she approached her, at first thinking that she would talk to her
  but realizing almost immediately that talking was not needed. She gathered
  her into her arms, remembering those long nights when she had cried, only
  wanting someone to hold her, knowing no one would. Tareena had not made
  friends easily, she was shy and looked upon by many with suspicion. She gave
  comfort as she could, stroking her hair and murmuring to her until the tide
  had passed. Tareena's heart broke as she listened to her pour out her story
  and her fears. They she looked at Tareena, begging her to understand was a
  knife thrust into her soul, knowing she too, had been there. She also knew
  that the girl was going to have to develop a backbone if she had any hope of
  surviving and thriving.
  Tareena ordered her to go wash her face and run a brush through her
  hair. After she came back, far more composed, they spoke quietly for a long
  time, about their homeland, their training and the things Ritania must do to
  survive. Tareena rose to leave, knowing she had said all she could for now.
  The girl must be left alone to make her way, for it would not do to coddle
  her. Sink or swim, either way, the fight against the dark one would
  continue. Tareena had no intentions of letting the girl fail but Ritania had
  to figure that out for herself.
  With a last wave, she moved along the path to go to her office and
  finish up some paperwork. Hours later it seemed, although it had only been a
  few at most, she left the confines of the Tower behind her and headed out to
  the lake. She remembered her last visit here when her bondmate had kissed
  her. Oh how she missed him. He had been gone for a long time and she knew
  he wasn't coming back any time soon. She was lonely, feeling somewhat
  isolated from everyone. Being strong for Ritania had only brought back
  nightmares, night after night, of her own struggle to break free from being a
  damane. With a sigh, she made a pack to herself to not think sad thoughts,
  focus only on the beauty of the lake and enjoy her time alone.
  Hearing footsteps, she turned, chuckling to herself about her short
  lived time alone. Thinking it to be a novitiate or initiate with some
  question she was surprised and a bit disconcerted to see Luthar walk into the
  clearing and bow to her. She had not had any contact with the man since she
  had asked him to be her eyes and ears with the men of the Tower. Since
  Mur'ashar had taken such a heavy hand with the Asha'man who had attacked
  Myiona, things had seemed fairly quiet. Obviously she was wrong. After
  hearing what Luthar had to report, she sat thinking for quite some time about
  what he had said and how she needed to handle it. With rumors of another
  mission circulating and tension high, something needed to happen. They could
  not afford to be at each other's throats on a mission for your life may
  depend on someone else being there. If they couldn't set aside their
  differences now, there may be unknown dangers later, when they could least
  afford it. Even in the sun, Tareena shivered.

  OOC:: Sorry it took so long to write, I have been sicker than a dog ever
  since I got back from vacation. To much beach I guess :) Hopefully I am
  back on track now :)

  Lisa

 With its top down, the calash, pulled by a team of chestnut mares, made its way
  toward its destination, the First Dragonsworn's Aunts estate. The horses were
  adorned with feathered plumes in Myiona's House colors.

  Dappled sunlight, filtering through the immense branches of giant oaks and elms
  overhanging the country road, played over the carriage and its passengers. The
  two novices eagerly observing the beautiful countryside passing by, fields
  filled with grape vines with their vineyards off in the distance, beautiful
  cherry orchards with their sea of pink and white blossoms. The two Dragonsworn
  smiled at each other enjoying both the carriage ride and the enjoyment of the
  young women. It was a much needed respite from the day-to-day activities found
  at the Tower.

  Looking down at her dress, La'rece suddenly regretted her choice of garments for
  the outing. Her dress was silk, cut in the Saldean style. The fabric was
  robin's egg blue with the collar and the cuffs of the long sleeves in white. An
  full length overjacket with high lace collar was in the same hue. With her hair
  swept up in a jeweled net, small ringlets hanging down, the Dragonsworn was
  stunning. *Woman, you look like First Attendant at the Maradon Court! Light!*

  As though she could read her sister Dragonsworn's mind, Myiona leaned over and
  said, "Your dress is beautiful, La'rece. Quite lovely." The two Dragonsworn
  shared a smile.

  A sudden patch of rough road took it away and replaced it with indignant winces.
  The two novices, caught off guard by the poorly paved highway, surreptitiously
  rubbed their bottoms. The two older women looked at each other, each reading in
  the other's eyes what the novices next them were feeling but Dragonsworn just
  didn't go around rubbing their backsides. A grin blossomed on La'rece's face
  and she channeled. The novice's frowns were replaced by grateful, wondering
  looks. The Arafellan had woven an additional cushion of air between each of
  them and the padded bench beneath thus making the rest of the ride easier to
  enjoy the beauty of the farms and fields the road wended through.

  Spirits back on track, a smiling La'rece turned to the two novices, "So, tell
  me, what will you be looking for in the shops today?"

  Lauren
  La'rece Barata'gan
  Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster

 
  "Why a dance? Out of all the things for me to do after that nasty mission why
  would I want to dance? Even if I could dance reasonably well I still wouldn't
  do it right after a mission," Rengar told his bond-mate as he finished the
  last button on the collar of his formal Asha'men uniform. Odessa had opted to
  go with less formal wear; a white dress with a green sash tied around the
  waist. Rengar knew that everyone else there would probably be wearing
  something a little less formal than his black coat, but he couldn't think of
  anything else to wear.
  Actually, that wasn't really true. Rather, he felt like spiting Odessa, who
  had insisted that he at least escort her to what he had heard was supposed to
  be a woman's only gathering. Which held out hope that he would not have to
  dance, but with Odessa he could never make any sure predictions.
  "Hurry up, Rengar. The party has already started, and your still figuring
  out how to button your shirt, as if you didn't learn that when you were five
  years old! Now hurry up," Odessa said, making a move to leave for the party
  without Rengar.
  "Wait! I'm done now, Odessa," Rengar said hurriedly, which brought a smile
  to Odessa's face. Rengar knew that she always appreciated it more when he
  acted as though he couldn't live a single moment without her presence, and in
  this situation he would have to get very much onto her good side to avoid the
  thing that he dreaded doing most, and least in front of the other Asha'men and
  Dragonsworn.
  Once he arrived at the party, however, he found that it was not difficult to
  make oneself invisible if you knew the right places to stand, though a few
  women and men came up to him to tell him that they were glad to see him, from
  time to time. Fortunately, none of the women who had approached him had asked
  him to dance yet, though he knew that it was only a matter of time until he
  was found by Odessa or another Dragonsworn whom he knew fairly well.
  Unfortunately, all of the Dragonsworn whom he would have liked to ask to
  dance were taken, and Rengar didn't feel like having a bubbly young Novitiate
  giggling at him and telling him how bad he danced. Of course, most of the
  Dragonsworn would have made the same comments anyway, but at least they would
  have composed themselves better...hopefully. It was hard to tell with this
  group sometimes; one moment everyone gathered here were efficient killers and
  warriors, while the next they acted as though they were young Soldiers and
  Novitiates again at parties like these. It was...strange, sometimes, although
  Rengar liked a good party as much as the next person, if only because it gave
  him a chance to meet a few of those from the opposite sex.
  After an indiscernible amount of time spent starring as other couples danced
  the night away Rengar decided that it was high time for a drink, and made his
  way over to the punch bowl. Another figure was already standing next to the
  bowl, and it took Rengar but a short moment to figure out who it was.
  "Hello, Tsorvan'm'hael Stevan! I wasn't expecting to see you at this
  junction, seeing as..." Rengar started, before being interrupted by the man
  whom he was now sharing drinks with.
  "Go to the courtyard at high noon tomorrow at assist Mura'shar with the
  training of the new Soldiers and Dedicated. Consider yourself "reinstated",
  Asha'man Rengar. And I don't think I need to tell you how to behave, do I?"
  "No need, Tsorvan'm'hael. I assure you that what happened...before will not
  occur again," Rengar told Stevan, but the other man had already disappeared
  into the growing throng of the party, leaving Rengar with a drink that he
  didn't much feel like finishing now.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------
  "I thought I heard someone walking nearby," Mura'shar said, after he and
  Rengar had grabbed the young man by the arms. They had been told by Stevan to
  watch out for possible infiltrators trying to penetrate the Black Tower at
  times like this, when most everyone's guard was down, when everyone was
  enjoying themselves at these kinds of functions.
  "Who sent you?" Rengar asked, as the man they were holding continued to look
  at the two of them as though they were mad. "Who sent you to spy on us!?"
  "I wasn't spying on yo-" the young man tried to say, before he was cut off in
  mid sentence. Maybe we should give this man a chance to speak...no, that can
  wait until later, when we're in less crowded place.
  "We know what you were doing, just answer the question and maybe the penalty
  will be a bit easier," Mura'shar replied before the other man could finish, as
  he whispered to Rengar. "What should we do with him now? I don't think that
  this is the best place to make a scene, especially since everyone seems to be
  having a good time."
  "We'll just have to take him to the M'Hael's office, of course," Rengar
  replied, trying to find the fastest way to get rid of this man that they had
  apprehended. Let Stevan take care of this small problem...I have a beautiful
  woman who wants to dance with me, Rengar thought to himself, a smile breaking
  onto his face at the thought.
  "You're going to see Stevan. He'll get the truth out of you," Mura'shar then
  told their "captive", and fortunately the man offered no resistance as they
  led him up to the M'Hael's office. Of course, Rengar was already forced to
  think of what they would do with the man they had caught if Stevan was not in
  his office. Maybe lock him up in the stables...no, that was too harsh a
  punishment, Rengar thought. Even for someone they suspected to be a spy.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------
  Things had certainly slowed down the last week or so, which was evidence
  enough just by the fact that Rengar was even talking with the young Soldier as
  they walked on a small path in the forests just outside the Tower. Rengar had
  always shied away from most of the Soldiers and Dedicated that came into the
  Tower these days, but something about Nick was...different. He seemed to have
  the same zest that he himself had possessed once, when he had first joined the
  Tower. Always the first to want to go away on a mission, Rengar had been, but
  that had been before all of the deaths he had seen, and all of the pain he had
  been forced to experience. Most of the people who had gone with him on those
  missions early in his career were gone now, though a few still remained;
  Xyranthes, Stevan, and a few others.
  "I...have to apologize to you, Soldier Nick. For thinking that you were a
  spy that time at the party," Rengar said, and to his surprise the words did
  not come out as awkward as he had expected them to. Now he supposed it was
  time to let the Soldier have his say about what he thought of what Rengar and
  Mura'shar had done to him. "Well, Soldier? Don't you have anything to say
  about what happened?"
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  --------------------------------------------
  Well Nick, you can continue on from this point if you like. I'm still trying
  to catch up reading all the RPs you've sent me, and I have to say that I've
  never enjoyed reading so much. I'll try to write again before the next RP
  starts up, but I'm not going to promise anything...you know how I am. I know
  I said this already in the roll call, but...
  Happy Easter, everyone! From
  Kyle

 Alcinia heard about the shopping trip. She decided to go to get away from the
  tower for awhile and to sell some of the jewels she had found on the island.
  The girls were all giggly and talking about what they wanted to buy. She was
  too busy wondering how much moeny she could get from the items she brought with
  her.
  Myiona gave them each a bag of money, which Alcinia stuck deep in a pocket
  hidden inside her boots. The carriage ride was long and bumpy, but she had been
  through worse.
  Once in town she hurried to find the thieves quarters. She bargained with a
  fat, greasy looking man over the price he would give her for the jewelry she
  brought. By the time she finished it was lunch time and she had to hurry to
  find the inn they were to meet at.
 
 
  Sunlight reflected off the hanging pots outside the tinsmith's shop forcing the
  women to squint as they walked past. It had been a lovely day thus far with
  frequent stops and the shops of various seamstresses to admire the dresses
  displayed. La'rece and Myiona shared a bag of sweets purchased from a vendor on
  the central mall. One Myiona's Aunt's cooks had recommended the shop to La'rece
  when she expressed a desire to find something to satisfy her sudden sweet tooth.
  Several of the Novices had asked to join the two Dragonsworn as they made their
  way through the streets of the city. A town actually. While of goodly size,
  this place was not of the magnitude of Tear or Illian.

  As La'rece turned her head to avoid the glare being cast from the copper pots,
  she spied Alcinia ducking down a sidestreet toward what La'rece knew to be the
  area of the city occupied primarily by thieves and the like. A small smile
  spread across the Arafellan's face. *A resourceful girl, that one. She may go
  far, if she doesn't get herself hanged first*

  "… stop in to have a light supper. What do you think?" La'rece blinked.
  Myiona was looking at her waiting for an answer.

  "I think that … supper sounds like just the right thing. A light one, mind!"
  La'rece felt herself blush as Myiona rolled her eyes in amusement.

  "A light supper, La'rece? Since when have you had to worry about your … um,
  figure?"

  "Very sweet. No, it's just years of battle training at work. With so many of
  the Tower women scattered throughout the markets, we may need to be able to move
  quickly."

  Myiona raised her eyebrows at her sister Dragonsworn, "'Battle Training'?
  La'rece we're both Green. We're both Dragonsworn. We're BOTH battle trained..
  What's really gotten into you … are you …?" A sudden smile bloomed across the
  First Dragonsworn's face. "You've got your eye on someone! Haven't you?!"

  La'rece looked back at Myiona with an expression as flat as an anvil. "No. If
  you must know, I saw one of ours heading into the cutpurse district."

  "Why didn't you warn her or say something, La'rece?!" Myiona exclaimed.

  The worried look on her friend's face was the only thing that kept her from
  rolling HER eyes. Instead she put a calming hand on Myiona's shoulder.
  "Because, I think the girl actually might know her way around the district …"

  "… what do you …" understanding crossed the First Dragonsworn's face. "Really?"
  she whispered fiercely.

  La'rece inclined her head in the barest nod and both women shared a look of
  understanding. This may be best exploited later. It was always helpful to have
  members of the Tower with ... Specialized skills. Besides, the intrigues of the
  Black Tower held the potential of fast becoming a small but powerful shadow of
  those of the infamous White Tower. The two women would keep the information
  quiet and in confidence until they needed its use.
  *****
  Supper was delightful. Lamb stew, lightly spiced in a wine sauce served
  steaming hot with sweet bread and butter. La'rece looked around for Alcinia but
  saw no sign of her. Glancing at Myiona she saw her own concern reflected in the
  First Dragonsworn's eyes. La'rece had assumed that Alcinia could take care of
  herself, but what if something had happened to the girl?

  La'rece and Myiona shared a look as Alcinia entered the common room of the inn.
  The girl looked no worse for wear. If anything, she had a satisfied look about
  her.

  La'rece ate more than she should. The days of inactivity were having an adverse
  affect on her ability to fit into her gowns. All her dresses were beginning to
  feel too tight across her hips and bodice. With a sigh, she waved off a serving
  of rasberry trifle pudding. Watching the others dig in with gusto, La'rece just
  about groaned.

  With a sly smile, Myiona signaled the serving girl to bring her another serving.
  La'rece's eyebrows nearly rose to the top of her head as the dish was placed in
  front of the First Dragonsworn. But Myiona pushed the dish across to stop in
  front of the Arafellan.

  "I can't …"

  "Yes you can. Don't be ridiculous. We'll be heading out on missions again soon
  enough. You might as well enjoy it while you can, La'rece"

  "Then you're helping me, Myiona. I'm not eating this alone!"

  Each, with spoon in hand, went to work on the triffle, giggling from time to
  time as one or the other would manage to find whipped crème on their nose or
  chin.

  *****
  Later as they gathered at the assigned meeting place, La'rece marvelled at the
  packages they would be returning with to the Tower. It seemed that everyone had
  found at least one new dress and many had purchased items to use in decorating
  their rooms. The Arafellan herself had purchased a beautiful black steel dagger
  that bore the signature of one of the best smith's in Shienar. How it had found
  its way to this town was beyond La'rece, but she was not one to miss an
  opportunity to obtain such a fine weapon.

  The First Dragonsworn ordered everyone back into the carriages for the ride back
  to the Estate where they would Travel back to the Tower. Correctly anticipating
  a ride no smoother than the previous, La'rece immediately put in place the
  cushions of air she had used before. She smiled when she felt similar weaves
  put in place in the other carriages.

  Lauren
  La'rece Barata'gan
  Marked Dragonsworn and Blademaster
 

 
 

 

  Another nice day and Raileine was basking in the rays of the sun. It sent
  her on flashbacks to her days when she was an innocent Novice at the White
  Tower. *That's never going to happen again.* She thought sadly, but that was
  eagerly taken over when she thought of her time here, at the Black Tower. She
  was enjoying it thouroughly ((and so is her mun! :P)), and then she wondered
  where her friend Atia was. Rai got up to go in search of the little runaway
  novice like herself.
  She checked everywhere she could've found the girl, but found her no
  where. Frowning Rai checked in her room again and found all of Atia's
  belonging missing. *That's not right.* Raileine told herself. Then she burst
  to the window and found a stable boy in bewilderment. *She didn't! She
  couldn't have, that bloody little twit!* She cursed in her head. *Who is
  going to help me with this flaming block now? Probably more dunks in that
  bloody tub of water.*
  Raileine silently continued cursing in her head as she jumped down the
  stairs, or it was more like flying. She tripped on her skirts a few times,
  and wished she'd taken after her sister rather than her mother. Finally she
  reached the stables and thought about chasing after her friend. *It won't
  work, you'll most likely get in trouble..* She told herself and looked down
  the dust covered road.
  A trail of dust flew up in the distance and Rai caught the tail of the
  horse as it crossed into the woods. She cursed, stamping her foot. Alone
  again, she was alone again. With no one to complain to of her block that
  would truly understand. In the middle of the stable yard Raileine threw a fit
  and then went to tell Dragonsworn Myiona that Gratianasil Wysee had run away,
  from yet another Tower.
 

  OOC: Kate and her family are loosing interent connection. She's deleted her
  screen name already and that's why you're not able to email her :( She
  doesn't know when she'll be back, but she doubts it'll be soon. Sorry :( She
  said to say bye and she loved RPing here.

  - Jamie
  Raileine Topire