Dark Suspicions or Paranoia [ATTN: Investigators] [Repost]

[Guest Estel]

Estel:

Isha sat at a table in the corner of the inn brooding. Not a usual thing for him to do, and therefore he sat alone as the other men avoided his company, hesitant to find out what had him in such a foul mood.

 

Taking a swig of ale, he scanned the room. None of them were there, but he couldn't help by double check. For some reason, a numer of Asha'man had begun to act oddly. He had known most of these men since they were Soldiers, and all of a sudden they changed. No overtly, but tiny changes in personality, one man now wrote with his left rather than his right, and another could no longer use his blade to any degree of the skill he had before possessed. Strange.

 

Were they all going mad? But an entire group at a time hinted at something darker. As for what, Isha could not know, but it felt like the Blight had gone quiet, and that never boded well.

 

Asfaloth:

 

Following his morning exercises Nakor went to the tavern for a drink. Free of recruiting and training this was to be a rather slow day for him and he was looking for a little excitement. When he walked in he saw Isha sitting at a corner table by himself, brooding it seemed over something dire. Nakor felt a bond with the man that had brought him to the Black Tower, and had spent more time with him than others would. Still, with the look Isha had on his face Nakor decided to sit elsewhere and think on his own troubles.

 

Something was wrong. He couldn't quite place it but there was an air about the whole Tower of wrongness. People were acting strangely, even considering the Taint, and he was beginning to think there was more to it than that. He'd noticed strange behaviour from a few of the Ashaman and Dedicated, but he was willing to blame that on other factors. What made him paranoid was the behavioral patterns of the Soldiers changing. Not all of them, just a few here and there, but enough for him to think something was wrong. He was afraid though, to share his suspicions with anyone else, lest they think he was succumbing to the Taint himself and losing his mind.

 

Finishing off the last of his ale he went and sat at the table across from Isha. If there was anyone he could trust, this was the one. Isha had not only brought him to the Tower but helped train him on several occasions. If he could convince the man that there truly was something gong on beneath the surface he would be a strong ally to have at his side. "Isha, I hate to interrupt your thoughts but I was hoping you could help me with something."

 

Kalthandrix:

 

'That is the last time!' Was Vykor's first thought as he stepped off of the Skimming platform and allowed the portal to close behind him. He strode off the Traveling grounds and hurried to the far southern end of the Farm. 'I should have just enough time to get shaved and into a fresh set of clothes on before I need to meet the others.'

 

He was tire as a dog, but it was worth it...'No! Let it go.' Smothering his feelings he gripped the hilt of the sword resting on his hip until his hand ached. Envisioning a flame, he sought the Void to escape the thoughts and feelings that threatened to break him, feeding them into the fire until he was empty.

 

He needed his mind clear when he found the others and told them...what. He had been following some of the other Dedicated and Asha'man for weeks now and he did not know exactly what it was he was looking for.

 

Entering his small dwelling, he hurried over to the glazed wash basin and mirror that were the sole occupants of the north wall of the one-roomed cabin, where he promptly stripped off the plain, rough tunic and linen undershirt he was wearing. He also took off his ever present satchel and hung it over the chair with where his black coat hung. Looking in the mirror, dead-white and green eyes gazed back at him. Several small scars now crossed his chest, shoulders, and arms- gifts from trips to the Blight with Isha for "training". 'Bloody wool-brained was what is was.' Unfortunately, it had also been Vykor's idea. 'I will never tell Isha that I am bored again.'

 

Grabbing a small towel hanging off the side of the wash basin, he poured water from the pitcher beside it and scrubbed the ice cold water over his face and chest. Wrapped in the Void, the cold did not bother him, though it brought up small goose pimples all over his body.

 

He had no idea what was going on with some of the others, but he no longer slept at the Black Tower with out an inverted alarm ward encircling his dwelling and a dream ward to guard his dreams. Something was going on, but he could not put his finger bloody finger on what it was.

 

'Isha or one of the others would know something by now.' He thought as he ran a razor over his chin and cheeks, quickly but with care. When he was finished he channeled briefly, seizing sadin and trying to ignore the sickening filth that lay over the sweetness that was the male half of the True Source. Bile rose within his throat as the Taint cramped his guts and made him want to retch, but he mastered himself and wove several thin strands of Fire, evaporating the dirty water in the glazed washbasin and burning the small hairs that had just been scrapped off his face. Hastily he pulled on a clean linen shirt and tucked it into his pants- which was hampered by his word belt; another thing that did not leave his possession while at the Black Tower.

 

That finished, he grabbed a black coat, decorated with the silver sword of a Dedicated, from the back of his single ladder-backed chair and shrugged it into place and picked up his satchel and hung it diagnally across he body and left the house. As he hurried to the inn, he checked the inverted alarm ward. 'Good. It does not appear to have been tampered with.' He quickly renewed the ward, tied it off and inverted it again. 'Caution is what separates the living from the dead.' his grandfather had always said. Thinking of his grandfather, a small smile split his face. 'He looked good, but his leg was giving him problems again.' he thought as he rubbed the pommel of his sword and hurried toward the inn.

 

Opening the door to the inn, Vykor instantly spotted his towering mentor, sitting in the corner listening to Nakor. Nodding to the two men, Vykor strode over to the bar and helped himself to a pewter tankard of ale, something he would never have been able to do when he was a Soldier. 'Rank has its rewards' he thought as he took a pull from his brimming drink.

 

The large mouthful of ale hit his stomach and set it to rumbling. Shrugging off his growling middle and taking another large drink to drowned the sounds coming from it, he strode over to the table where the other two men sat. He set down his drink and smoothly maneuvered his sword and satchel to comfortable positions as he sat down.

 

Marak:

 

Marak blazed with the One Power, his grasp on saidin effortless, untouched by the taint that sent the Lightfools insane. He let go, and grimaced. Seven Acolytes, seven new recruits to the Shadow. And an eighth today. The man was going insane, he had no doubt of that. The man he sought to recruit was soon to become one of the Dedicated, and so it was time to recruit him, before he learnt to exercise free will, and would, as such, become worthless to him.

 

He had finished his weave, a complex snarl of saidin, which did nothing, which annoyed him greatly. It seemed he didn't have the skill for some of the weaves he had been taught, and so, he had to rely on sheer power.

 

He walked into a classroom, where he had told the man to wait. It was dark. He swivelled his head from left to right, and saw the soon-to-be Dedicated standing in a corner. He smiled, and spoke. "My, my, Jarhnas. You certainly are sure of yourself today".

 

Jarhnas glared at him, a cold, level glare. Marak felt a lump of ice settle in his stomach, had the man told? He could've spoiled everything! He took a deep breath, and gestured for the man to sit down. As he did, Marak spoke, in a strong, level voice, trying to keep the wavering tone that was appearing out of it. "Jarhnas. Today is the day where you will forsake the taint. Today is the day, where you will swear to the Great Lord of the Dark. Come, Jarhnas. You know it is in you. You loathe the taint, you hate it with every fiber of your being. Come to the Shadow, an-"

 

He was cut off by Jarhnas's voice, in a harsh whisper. "I would rather die! Better madness under the taint than condemning the world to the Shadow!".

 

Marak sighed. "Come, now. The Shadow is not so bad. The Lightfools have told you much about us, how we seek to destroy, and rule the world. Did you not question th-".

 

He was cut off again, by the man grasping saidin. Marak sighed. Jarhnas incinerated the air next to his head, and Marak ducked. He had not yet grasped saidin. Jarhnas looked at him, pure hate filling his eyes, and Marak threw a chair at him. The man blocked it with air, and drew more deeply upon the Power, his face curling into a contemptous sneer. Marak raised his eyebrows, and drew on saidin in an eyeblink, weaves of Spirit cutting Jarhnas's weaves, and slamming a shield in place. The man exhaled sharply, and Marak used a flow of Air to gag him.

 

He smiled, a smile that few had seen, but, it was unmistakable, a smile of hatred, and... pity. Marak spoke, quietly, and calmly. "Now, now. You made the wrong choice, I believe. Now, it's far easier for me to kill you with the One Power, and simply say you went insane. I doubt anyone will ever question me, you little fool."

Marak sighed, and used Fire to blacken Jarhnas's body, not too strongly, but as if he had been taken by surprise. Marak's hair was singed, and his clothes, too, and his hands were scraped, but, otherwise, he was fine.

 

He tossed the body on the ground, and, creating tear-shaped drops of water down his face, to pretend he felt sorrow, used Air to tap a Soldier on the head. The Soldier ran over, and Marak, rasping his words, spoke. "Soldier Jarhnas.. went mad. Tried to kill me. Tell... damnit, just tell someone. We'll need to bury him.".

 

As the Soldier ran off, Marak grinned inwardly. He rubbed his hands together, feeling the black grit that was once Jarhnas's skin fall off. It was so simple, he mused. Only someone who knew the Soldier well would even be the slightest bit suspicision, and it was doubtful they'd accuse him openly. He slumped, and walked off back towards 'his' house. Once he was there, he could hope the Chosen tried to contact him again. He wanted to leave. The Black Tower was a place of insanity, and seven Acolytes was more than enough for the teachers they currently had. Ah, well. They'd think he was in mourning, or some such condition. At leaast Jarhnas's death had served some purpose, otherwise, Marak might've been annoyed at the man, for his idiocy.

 

He continued walking, hiding his face, then opened his door, and sat on the bed. He drew on saidin, and wove a ward against eavesdropping, and then lay on the bed. It was hard to sleep in the middle of the day, but, when the Chosen commanded...

 

He didn't like to think of what happened to those who disobeyed.

 

TheWitchKing:

 

ooc: Here we, time to be dramatic.

IC:

 

Walking along down the hight road of the tower, Brand felt little consern for the activity of the other dedicated, apart from his friend Drenn, who was teaching some class to recruits. The thing that held his attention was one of joy. One of his mentee's, Jarhnas, was to atten the rank of Dedicated today. Jarhnas was simmilar to Brand im most ways, they both were strong in fire and earth, they both worked to discover the earth singing talent again, and they both had a huge hatred for evil. Smilling slightly, Brand thought of the fond times they had training, when they both used nothing but earth and fire weaves on each other, Brand had won, but only because of his experiance, Jarhnas proved to be a more powerfull with Saidin and would pass his master in the futur.

 

His pleasent thoughts were broken by a soldier almost running him over. Brand was looking up at the sky, but had cought a bit of movement and used Saidin to blast him in the air with a push from a colum of earth. Landing in front of the panting soldier who had collided with the pilar, Brand put a hand on his sloulder. "What is the trouble sol-" But he was cut off by the man. "I must find Dedicated Brand Ishmar, something horrible has happend!"

 

His emotion slipping out of his body as he grasped the void, Brand turned the soldier around. "Mankor, I am Brand, it is uncommon for one to forget there own mentor's moves is it not? Tell me what happend." Mankor strugled to calm him self as he noded to Brand. "Im sorry mentor, I was unfocused, it will not happen again. Its Jarhnas, it seems he has gone mad and attacked another man, but burnt himself in the task."

 

Brands emotioned slipped, and rage flew wild in him. Indicating for Mankor to give him a moment, Brand walked off the road and a few feet into the forest. He tryied to relax himself, but the rage was too strong, and with Brand's rage, Saidin always followed. It now bursted through him, and he felt a fire in himself. Gripping his fist togerther, he let out a roar of frustration, and releaced all the saidin he could in many weaves. The ground around him exploded and started mixing, stucking down the trees and any other thing that happend to stand in his way.

 

After a many moments, the ground sised its groaning and there was nothing left around him, but a perfect circle of smoth ground. Turning back to a terrified Mankor, who huddled out of the circle. But what scared Mankor even more was Brands, eyes, they were still compleatly black, but now all around on his eye lids, there were black lines. Brand walked up to Mankor and put a hand on his shoulder. "Its ok, I have calmed my rage, shall we go and and see Jarhnas?"

 

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Brand carrierd what was left of Jarhnas' body towards Isha's house. Apart from his own mentor, Isha was Brand's favorite Asha'man, and the only one he could put his total trust into right now. Getting Mankor to nock on the door, Brand layed Jarhnas on a pallet of earth he had pulled up with Saidin. Isha's face appeared at the door. "How many times must I say not to channel near my hourse....Brand! What is this?" Turning sadly to Isha, Brand pulled up Jarhnas' left pant leg to reveal the only part of him not burnt black. Pointing at his ancle and then at Mankor who had pulled up his own to reveal at small tatoo. "This was one of my mentee's, Jarhnas, but it seems he is dead. Mankor says he went mad, and attacked someone and killed him self. The only thing that made me reconise him was the tattoo on his ancle, all of my mentee's have one and they are made of sand between two layers of there skin."

 

Isha moved to look at Jarhnas' ancle and sighed. "We are loosing many brothers this way, looks like he used a small Fire Storm in his madness, good weave he-" Brand cut him off. "I know my mentee's Isha, and Jarhnas was very far from madness, I think someone killed him to stop him from letting me know something. Do we have any Asha'man that can resurect weaves? We might be able to find out what happend."

 

Isha nodded and turned to leave. Brand tought his arm. "I need time to releaced the tention inside me, I must go into the forest for some time and meditate. If you feal earthquakes, do not fear, it is only me. I will leave Mankor to watch over Jarhnas' body and safe garde it untill I return." Turning to go, Brand started for the forest. Isha called out to his back. "How will I reach you if you are needed before you finnish?" Smilling, Brand did not turn. "Send two crossing arrow's of fire in the air as a signal, and I will come." Continuing into the forrest, Brand let out a small sob. The two crossing arrow's was the sign that he and Jarhnas had made after one of there training...

 

occ:and after two hours, WE HAVE IT! drammatic anought? I can make it more, just got a bit lazy...

 

Death Incarnate:

 

OOC: Black eyeliner? You're not going emo on us here are you Brand? Sorry for coming in late on this... I'm still trying to catch up on everything I missed while my computer was out.

 

Drenn was just wrapping up a basic elements class with some of the newer recruits when he felt a massive amount of Saidin being weilded off somewhere else in the yard. Naturally, living at the Black Tower, one grew acustom to Saidin being used all around them but this was far more then necessary for any tasks one would find here. The only reason that much would be needed would be for an all out offensive! Drenn quickly cut all the weaves his students were making as he didn't have the time to supervise them disassemble them or maintain them and told them to go exercise for an hour. With them taken care of, he ran towards the source of the disturbance at full speed.

 

Within a few seconds he realized that the source of the disturbance was somewhere in the forest and it was growing stronger. As he drew closer he began to feel the earth shaking and he could see the signs of fire ahead. what was going on? Whoever it was was going to set the entire forest on fire. Breking through the forest he emerged in a very far from natural clearing of roiling earth, burning trees and earth spikes flying everywhere. and in the centre of it all stood Brand. Had the man gone mad! Drenn could clearly see that if this kept up much longer brand was going to kill himself within his own weaves, or burn himself out. Grasping Saidin he felt its sickly torrents wash over him and barely overcame the urge to empty his stomach as the taint hit him.

 

Without thinking he ran forward into the mayhem that was wrecking havoc on the forest around him and began throwing out Saidin madly just to keep himself alive. The ground was far from solid and appeared to bubble almost like a liquid so he was forced to create stepping stones with his own weaves of earth. running across in strides he then noticed the spikes still flying around and opened his hands to send a ball of fire at each, destroying them before they hit him. Suddenly he realized his earth weaves were becoming less effective and his stepping stones were growing weaker Brand must have realized there was another channeler here breaking through his weaves and subconsiously be fighting against it. he didn't seem to be thinking rationally or he would have his weaves under control. As he drew closer to the epicentre he noticed the ground was growing hotter and was becoming molten. His stepping stones wouldn't hold out the entire way and the lava would roast him in seconds if he fell. Normally he would have been able to overpower Brand but he was already tired from his class and he was casting too many weaves in too many directions. As he came within the last few metres he felt his stepping weave fail and saw several spikes heading right for him. Having to make a split decision about what to do he switched elements and pulled on air to form walls on either side of him and leaping from one to the other, managed to just narrowly evade the spikes. on his final jump he leapt directly for Brand and crashed into him.

 

They tumbled to the ground and Drenn put everything he had left into a shield and slammed it into Brand to cut him off from Saidin. The very confused Brand struggled against him but thankfully, Drenn had a little on him for strength and managed to pin him to the ground.

 

"What in the flaming light were you thinking?! Have you gona mad! You bloody well near burned down the forest and killed yourself in the process." Suddenly Drenn noticed his friends eyes. Not only were they black as usual but there were black rings around them on his skin aswell. He could also see an extreme pain within his eyes. Still maintaing the shield he slowly got up and helped Brand up aswell. Looking around briefly he turned back to Brand and began wondering where that pain came from. "What happened Brand?" While his friend talked he focused on putting out the small fires that lingered and trying to righten the earth.

 

OOC: Sorry man, you put me in the dramatic mood too. Not to mention that whole scene looked really cool in my head. I should have added more cloak flaring and other details...

 

TheWitchKing:

 

ooc: OMG that whole last seen was TOOOO sick really fits the whole story line with what is going on right now. As for the black rings stuff, might want to read Noy's meeting the people thread. I kind of explained the whole back ground of our eyes; hope you don’t mind me making it up for the both of us. Just to give you a taste, I made it that we are cousin's sharing the same history, but we each are of different branch's of the main house. And back in the past, our ancestor was curses by Saidin eating at his life force and turning his skin black slowly, section by section if one used the maximum amount of Saidin he could hold. Thus explaining why the black around your eyes had not happened to you yet, since I lost control and you have not yet. How does it sound?

 

IC:

 

Fire...Pain...Destruction...Loss... Words screamed in Brand minds as he stood there, and for all he could do, he could not hold back the river of Saidin rushing out of him. He knew that he had lost complete control and soon he was also going to lose his sanity... His eyes glazed over and with out any control of his body or his mind, he fought on to keep what was important: himself. Fire and death raged around him; walls of earth crashed, great spikes erupted around him; lightning crashed all about him and the ground seemed to melt in his massive heart flare that surrounded him...

 

In the depth of his thoughts, he felt a weave being slashed... then another... then even more. Some one was trying to cut a path to him. His rage flaring, he tried fighting back against the person. What if it was the person that had murdered Jarhnas and had now come to finish him off as well? He was getting weak, but he struggled on, his weaves were becoming thinner and he was sure his grip on sanity was about to slip at any moment. Then a wall slammed home between him and Saidin...

 

Brand crumbled to the ground just a pair of arms wrapped around his shoulders. He opened his eyes. He could see nothing but haze and it pained him even to look about. He could feel that a part of him had been ripped away, that a bit of his life force had disappeared. A voice cut into his head. "What in the flaming light were you thinking?! Have you gone mad! You bloody well near burned down the forest and killed yourself in the process." He knew that voice, but just could not place it somewhere... Brenn, no... Drenn, yes! That was it! Know were do I know him from...The Black Tower...He is a dedicated like my self!

 

He wondered why his friend was so mad at him. It had only been a few weaves, or had it. Brand slowly opened up his eyes again and they focused them selves. He had to do a double take on what he saw. A large chunk of the forest was know ether burning, charred to the stump or just no longer there. Had he done this? He felt a slight bit of pride bloom in himself. HA, well proves to them that I have a bit of power in me! That im not such a weakling that can hold his own in a fight against another channaler!

 

Drenn slowly rised to his feet and helped Brand up as well. Sawing from the lack of energy and force, Brand truly felt like a new born child, weak and help less. His friend turned to him with a worried face. "What happened Brand?" Then turned to start putting out some of the small fires that still burned around him.

 

Opening his mouth, Brand let out a croak before wetting his mouth. "One apprentice dead, one more scared out of his mind. Some thing bad is going on in the Tower. I came here to meditate and relax, but a soon as I cleared my mind, I felt that something was different with Saidin... It just rushed out of me the moment I tried to grasp it, there was nothing I could do but hope to hold on. I have never felt Saidin acted that way, usually it’s always the same for me, but this was different..." Rubbing his eyes, Brand could feel that his eye lids and the skin around them were cold. Sighing, he turned to look at Drenn. "How much of it has turned black? Dam that curse or what ever it is; couldn’t my ancestor keep his long hocked nose out of the Creators jobs?"

 

Sitting down, he shocks his head. "Now what are we going to do? You are not going to report me to the M'Hael are you? Include in your report that you think I have gone mad and lost all control over the power? Tell him that I should be put down like some meager dog that had rabies?" He suddenly realized that he was standing and shouting at Drenn's concerned face. A small tear ran down the side of his face and followed the scar that crossed his eye. "I will show you I can still hold my own against the torrent that Saidin is. Oh I will show you that I am not weak! Please remove the shield... even just for a few moments, you can slam it back down on my once I am done."

 

ooc: Ok well its up to you know, whether you let me do a quick weave, or not, and if you want to report what happened right now the Dali, but we are still going to have to go to him with Isha to give in my report of the death of Jarhnas...

 

Death Incarnate:

 

OOC: I don't think the cousins idea would work as you're Chairienin and I'm an Andoran. amoung other things, you come from a noble family and I came from a small villiage and a blacksmith. Plus, my eyes didn't come from using too much of the power it was more a subconcious self-infliction. I used Saidin to help me see in a dream and as a side effect it turned my eyes black. Kind of a prologue to me hopefully taking Dreamwalking once I hit Ashy. anyways, cool idea but it just seems to much of a stretch.

 

IC: "One apprentice dead, one more scared out of his mind. Some thing bad is going on in the Tower. I came here to meditate and relax, but a soon as I cleared my mind, I felt that something was different with Saidin... It just rushed out of me the moment I tried to grasp it, there was nothing I could do but hope to hold on. I have never felt Saidin acted that way, usually it’s always the same for me, but this was different..." Drenn had noticed an unusual amount of deaths and disapearances around the tower lately... Although it wasn't that uncommon for students to die or go missing it was a slightly higher rate then usual and there was just something about some others. Things weren't quite right in the Tower.

 

"Now what are we going to do? You are not going to report me to the M'Hael are you? Include in your report that you think I have gone mad and lost all control over the power? Tell him that I should be put down like some meager dog that had rabies?" Drenn stood still as a stone throughout Brand's tirade and just let the man get it off his chest. He was likely in shock of what had just happened and no doubt the effort he had put into those weaves had drained him entirely. Finally he stopped and seemed to sag as he realized what he had been saying and Drenn noticed the small tear that rolled down one of his friend's cheeks. In a much quieter tone Brand continued."I will show you I can still hold my own against the torrent that Saidin is. Oh I will show you that I am not weak! Please remove the shield... even just for a few moments, you can slam it back down on my once I am done." Drenn thought about it for a moment but Brand wasn't in anything near a safe mindset to be handling Saidin. Walking up to his friend he put an arm around his shoulder and helped him towards the tower grounds.

 

"Not now Brand. Lets just wait till you've rested and reflected a bit. I'll leave this out of my report but you need some sleep before you try doing much else. Some sleep followed by a good meal." They walked on in silence for a little while longer until they reached the edge of the forest where Drenn decided to drop the shield to avoid any unpleasent questions about what had happened. He'd cleaned up the clearing fairly well so that it would merely look like Brand was venting. Stopping again he looked over at Brand. "Do you think you can walk on your own? If we walk in with me practically carrying you then there's going to be alot of questions that would be better avoided." when Brand nodded Drenn stepped away slowly and watched his friend wobble for a moment before he collected himself and managed to stand straight enough.

 

Once they broke through the edge of the forest He noticed Isha heading towards them. No doubt very curious about why so much Saidin had been used within the woods with so little reason. Drenn just hoped they could come up with a good enough alibi as to what happened.

[Guest Estel]

Isha came striding to the two black-eyes men, his face a thunder head. "What in the bloody Pit of Doom did you two think you were doing using that much of the bloody Power! You could have gotten yourself burnt out you flaming sons of whores!"

 

Noticing the black markings all over Brand, Isha's curiosity was aroused threatening to dampen his anger. "What are those flaming black markings?" His tone was rough but he couldn't help but soften it a little.

 

When Brand caught his eyes, the obvious pain and questioning in the man's face finally broke the temper Isha had unleashed. Gently now, the giant answered the obvious question. "Your mentee's body is in my house, guarded with wards. I don't think anyone would want the body, what was important to the murderer was that the boy died, if murder that be." As Brand began to retort Isha cut him off. "No, I believe you, but you must weigh all th possibilities. I've felt something's wrong too. Now tell me what you know of Jarhnas' death and what you two did in the woods that required so much saidin."

[TheWitchKing]

Coughing and spitting out ash's, Brand looked up into Isha's face. "Your mentee's body is in my house, guarded with wards. I don't think anyone would want the body, what was important to the murderer was that the boy died, if murder that be."

 

Brand opened his mouth to retort that it was most certainly murder, but was cut off by Isha's. "No, I believe you, but you must weigh all the possibilities. I've felt something's wrong too. Now tell me what you know of Jarhnas' death and what you two did in the woods that required so much saidin."

 

Wiping more ashes off his mouth, Brand straightened him self up and tottered before gaining balance. "Jarhnas' had been acting oddly before his death. He missed a few weapon training classes and one Saidin one. He did not want to go on an RnR trip into the woods, preferring to stay back here... I knew him well. He was stronger then me in Saidin, but had this urge to become even more powerful as fast as possible... If any one tried to turn him against the Black Tower, I fear that they would have had an easy time. But Jarhnas' had a strong conscious, and might have realized what he was doing was wrong. I think that he ether tried to take on who ever killed him, or was killed trying to reach me." Brand shoke his head in wonder and cleared his through before continuing. "As for what happened in the forest, Drenn had nothing to do with it, if he had not saved me, I would have probably burnt out, killed myself or wiped out a good chunk of this side of the Black Tower. I...I, lost controle of Saidin. I was not like I was trying to fight it, but when I relaxed and grabbed a hold of it, I was only using a little bit, but suddenly I just exploded in me and rushed in and I a few second I was at my max and still more was trying to get out. The forest feels weird, like it corrupted or something. Drenn felt it too. But I can’t explain what really happened, since I do not know myself. But for all theses black marking on my face, it seems that in side and out of my body got burnt up pretty badly. It seems that Saidin burnt out the color in my skin and my lungs seems to have some ashes in them..."

 

Trailing off Brand, wavered and collapsed to the ground. Shaking his head, he looked up at the two now lowering men. "Seems that I used up much more energy and stamina then I expected."

[Guest Estel]

Isha stopped and thought a while on Brand's words. If what Brand said was true, if Jarhnas had been meeting with some people wishing to turn him against the Tower that could only mean one thing: Darkfriends.

 

Unfortunatly they had no evidence and there basis for any accusation was shaky at best. "Brand, who had Jarhnas been spending time with?"

[TheWitchKing]

Shaking his head, Brand reflected on Isha's words. "Brand, who had Jarhnas been spending time with?" Who had his mentee been spending some time with. He had only cought a glimps of him once and by pure accident as they met just as Brand was leaving Jarhnas' tent. They had brushed shoulders and Brand felt a sickening feeling at just that little contact.

 

"I...I think he was spending some time with an Asha'man. I think he was one of the Asha'man that spends a lot of time out side of the Tower spying and collecting information. I, dont know name and I had never seen him before I bumped into him on the way out of Jarhnas' tent. The only reason I knew he was an Asha'man was his pins. Untill know, I had only shrugged it off as, since Jarhnas was always talking about going to train with another out side the Tower, and I just thought that this man was going to be Jarhnas' new mentor once he gained Dedicated...

 

Trailing off, Brand beat himself mentaly for doing such a stupid thing and not inquiring about the man that was going to take under his wing one of Brand's pupils.

 

ooc:Bah, i'm too lazy to open Word, so there will be some gramatical errors.

[Guest Estel]

"Damn!" he swore. "Do you think you could pick him out by sight? I want him followed!" Frustration built up in Isha, he wanted something to fight. It was so much easier in the Blight, there was always an enemy at hand. Something he could fight with the sword, or with the Power. Here he had nothing except suspicions. Nothing to fight.

 

He stroked the angreal in his pocket. He needed a break. Maybe he would head out to the Blight tonight yet.

[Kalthandrix]

"I will follow him if you point him out!"

 

Shaking his head slightly, Vykor stepped out from the woods beside the group of men like a ghost. Since being promoted, he had spent a good amount of time off the Farm and while he had not known Jarhnas well, but he was still deeply bothered at what this mans death might mean and coming as it did now, with everyone watching one another warily and with the cloud of unease that had settled over the Black Tower, this could be bad. Very bad!

 

He was the best choice to do the following; the rest of those gathered here were too well known, and looking at Brand and Isha, too emotional to do anything as subtle as just following and watching.

 

“Caution and a clear head will be needed, along with a bit of discretion. We do not know what happened and neither the M'Hael nor the Lord Dragon will be able to do anything without solid, irrefutable proof. Also, if it turns out that the men who killed Jarhnas is an Asha’man, he might not expect that a Dedicated would be set to watch him.â€

[Guest Estel]

The grizzled Asha'man nodded at Vykor's words. "If anyone else sees anyone suspicious come to me and then follow them. We need people watching everyone. We can't risk another death. It could be any one of us."

 

With that, Isha turned and spun on his heel retreating to his room to brood.

[Marak]

OOC: Ok, we're going to need a bit of planning here. I think, at this point, we can grab our torture-ee. (Could the torture-ee in question please stand up? However, at this point, Marak will likewise be captured)

 

Marak will now be visting Aginor to inform him of what happened. If the torture-ee (I love making up words) could kindly follow along, it'd be much appreciated.

 

IC:

 

Marak ran along a path, down to where he knew Aginor was. He wasn't stupid, although, no doubt, Aginor thought he was. It was a matter of simple mathematics, plotting out which Asha'men lived where, and who acted in what ways. It hadn't taken him long to discover who Aginor really was, especially with his knowledge of the Chosen's mannerisms.

 

However, he would have to reveal that knowledge, so that Aginor could aid him.

 

He swung open a door, and slammed it behind him. He felt flows of Air at his throat, and more, wrapping his limbs in a cocoon of immutable air. Marak choked out some words, before the flow of Air tightened.. "They.. suspect.. know.. who am... Agin-".. as he spoke the last word, a blow silenced his mouth. The man spoke in a hushed whisper. "Fool. If you have revealed yourself, all will be for nothing. Silence, now. If you must die for my plans, then so be it. Nonetheless, I have worked too hard, and for too long to let this fall apart. We must simply retool my plan. You will go, once I have told you what I need you to do..."

 

Aginor, although still holding the One Power, was not holding it in great measure... He began to speak..

[Guest Dalinar]

Dalinar flicked idly through the reports on his desk, scanning them without paying a great deal of attention to their contents. He knew that he would probably miss something, and that he would likely have to spend time later going over the material again, and that it was, in fact, probably a considerable waste of time even making a superficial attempt at decreasing the pile given the attention he was giving it.

 

With a grunt he pushed his chair back from his desk and tipped it backwards, swinging in the balance on its hind legs and idly rocking to and fro. The sun was shining through the windows of his study and lending it a balmy warmth, almost too warm, but for now tolerably comfortable.

 

Settling his chair to the ground, he placed his hands on the warm wood before him and heaved himself up with a long exhale. Wandering over to the window he stood before it and folded his arms across his chest, looking out over the Tower grounds. Taking a firm hold on saidin his vision sharpened and his senses heightened in an instant, but not before everything blurred for a brief moment. Just a moment, it was, but enough to make him feel slightly queasy in the pit of his stomach. That had been happening, lately. Not all the time, but when he was most tired, or most distracted, taking the Source in his hands seemed somehow more precarious than it once had. For a fleeting moment he wondered if he would make it to Tarmon Gaidon or not, as he was sure it was a side effect of the taint's influence on him. Could the Power be cleansed? The Dragon had mentioned it, once or twice, but Dalinar was not at all sure, and he certainly would not hold out hope. That kind of hope could lead to the wrong decisions at the wrong time. He would not be the first male channeler of the Age to start a Breaking all over again.

 

It was while he was musing these things over in his head that he felt the all too familiar throb and swell of saidin that buzzed interminably day and night reach a crescendo that was unusual even for the most intense combat training, out in the forest beyond the Farm's fledgling walls. Dalinar wondered what was going on out there, but even with his Power-enhanced vision he could not make out what was happening beyond the walls. The epicentre of the flood of Power seemed not to be moving and as far as Dali could see, no particular harm was being done. Perhaps it was just a combat drill after all - many of the Asha'man were very creative in their classes these days.

 

Turning away from the window, he released the Power. Perhaps that release or perhaps the turn, he wasn't sure which, caused him to lose his balance and stagger slightly. Holding himself up on the corner or the desk, he shook his head slightly, clearing his mind. He flopped back into the chair at the desk and rested his bowed head in his hands with his elbows propped on the desk's edge. He took a deep breath and his mind came back into sharp focus as if nothing had ever happened.

 

Muttering quietly to himself he reached for the reports again and made a mental note to check over the training activity which had lead to the commotion out in the forest tomorrow.

 

Dalinarius Traachanshield,

M'Hael.

OOC: I just felt like posting. But it also might open up for anyone to come and make a report if you want to. No pressure. :)

[Death Incarnate]

OOC: Hey stop poking... oh... thats MY cue.

 

IC: Drenn listened carefully to what everyone was saying and he most certainly didn't like what it added up to. With the way things sounded there didn't seem to be much room for doubt. Darkfriends had infiltrated the Black Tower for certain. The thought of it sent chills down his spine and fire to his mind. The Dark one was responsible for what had happened to his family and he wanted vengance.

 

As Isha departed Drenn bid farewell to Brand and told him to get some food and rest and then he himself headed for the inn to get something to eat. On his way there he had to leap aside to avoid another Asha'man who was running off somewhere in quite a hurry. The man didn't even stop to aploagize... Watchting the man disapear into one of the houses further down with the loud slamming of a door Drenn shook his head. Bloody people were too rude these days. Albeit, he himself wasn't exactly a model example of kindness but he would have atleast aploagized. He was about to keep going and simply dismiss the man as an jerk when he suddenly felt Saidin being drawn on strongly within the house the man had disapeared into. finding that odd he considered Isha's last words but decided it would just take too long. Besides, with the way things were going in there it should be two on one anyway.

 

Standing outside the door Drenn could feel where Saidin was being drawn from and also how strongly. this wouldn't be an easy fight. Something he wasn't used to around here as he was the strongest channeler in the Tower. Quickly He grasped ahold of Saidin and Rushed in with a shield and weaves of air ready.

 

OOC: alrighty then. i'll just leave it off there for you to kick my butt Marak. I'm not sure if were taking this new system into account or not but if we are then my new OP strength is atleast 38 after all is considered. Possibly 39 so atleast try and make it look like Drenn TRIED to fight back. :P

[Marak]

Marak was thrown aside like a rag doll as the door burst open. Flows of Air moved in front of him, and he grasped for saidin as they did. He recognized the man. Drenn.. He knew him, and he was one of the most powerful in the Tower. He doubted he could equal the man, even if he had the luck to catch him by surprise. He wove Air quickly to catch himself, and struck at Drenn with weaves of Spirit. It didn't surprise him to see the weaves clumsily sliced in half. As he remembered, the man's skill with the Power was not as good as it could've been. Still.. He was hit by a flow of Air which he could not block, and knew no more.

 

Aginor chuckled. "My, my. Aren't we pretentious, child". Weaves of Fire licked out, trying to incinerate him. They were pathetically easy to cut. Aginor slashed out with flows of Air and Earth, trying to entangle the floor.

 

As the flows encircled him, and were about to immobilize him, the man cut them. There was sweat on his face. Aginor skillfully cut two more flows, and ripped through another weave the man was making. This had to end, before he drew too much attention to himself.

 

"Tell me, child. Have you ever heard of Aginor? Surely your pitiful Age knows my name still".

 

Fire flickered as another weave was doused, Spirit, Fire, and Air, as well as the occasional weave of Water and Earth, all ripping into one another, Aginor seemingly unaffected, the other man, well, he had sweat dripping down his face, and was constantly moving, trying to use his body to augment his flows.

 

The room itself was ill-suited to this kind of combat. A window shattered, and the flow of Air that shattered it spread outwards, and would no doubt render unconscious anyone there.

 

Aginor looked at the man, his face impassive. He couldn't afford any more of this.. wastefulness. The man would make a good servant, or else he would die.

 

Aginor struck. Threads upon threads, weaving with complexity, flows of Spirit still striking the man's attempts to attack. It took only a few seconds. His flows, unhindered, hit the man. The man hit the floor with a resounding thud. Aginor sighed, and looked at Marak. The man was unconscious. Unfortunate. He had work that needed to be done, and another pair of hands to do it with.

 

Aginor wove all five elements, and let the weave settle on Marak. It was the Healing of his Age. He had never been a talented healer, but it was the best he could do. He wove Water, and splashed it on Marak's face.

 

Marak awoke. His head hurt. Aginor abruptly gave him orders. "Gather those you have turned. Meet me.. near the woods. Get them all, and we will leave this pitiful place. Keep in mind that you have failed. Fail this, and I may give you over to Semirhage so she may entertain herself".

 

Marak got up, and started running. He sped down a path, to where he knew one man slept. He just hoped no-one stopped him on the way.. He knew of Semirhage. The children's tales he knew, however, frightening as they were, didn't even compare to the real Semirhage.. It was at times like these he wished he believed in the Creator, so he had someone to pray to..

[Death Incarnate]

Leaping inside Drenn lashed out with weaves of air, hoping to stun both of his opponents before shielding them. The man whom he'd seen run inside was hit by the weave of air and fell to the floor unconcious but the other man cut both his weaves apart with ease. Now striking out with fire he tried to gain an advantage by using his most powerful element but once again his weave was cut down. It was frustrating. He knew he didn't have the dexterity with weaves that most others posessed but he was usually able to make up for that with raw power. It was not the case here. The man was tearing his weaves apart with next to no effort and striking back with equal or greater force then Drenn could hope to wield. Who was he?

 

"My, my. Aren't we pretentious, child"Child?! Drenns blood was already on the boiling point from the frustration of being unable to reach the man but to call him a child! He began striking with even more lethal force and even greater weaves but it was still to no avail. How was he able to cut his weaves up so easily. Just barely doging a blade of air that leapt towards him he managed to destory a weave that was trying to encircle him. He was holding his own but he wasn't sure for how long he could last.

 

"Tell me, child. Have you ever heard of Aginor? Surely your pitiful Age knows my name still" Drenns mind froze. Aginor! He was fighting on of the Forsaken?! His mind was nearly overcome with terror and rage at the same time. The Forsaken were free? It was a thought to chill the bone. Frantically now he was striking out where he had the oppertunity but mostly putting all his efforts into the tireless attacks that kept striking at him. How could the man weave so quickly? The attacks were coming so quickly with such complexity that Drenn felt overwhelmed. A shield to block a flame here and air with spirit to save his conenction with Saidin. Earth threatened to consume him but he barely managed to reverse it though to no effect. He was drawn into blocking a blade of fire which suddenly disapeared and he felt something strike his head. A trap. those were his last thoughts as he passed out.

 

OOC: So... on to the torture.

[Marak]

OOC: I'll most definitely get a post up tomorrow. I've been sick, so I haven't been posting (self-evidently), and I'm a bit sorry for this purely OOC post, but I've got a lot to catch up on in SG alone.

[Marak]

Aginor Gated quickly, holding the Asha'man with flows of Air. He pulled him through the portal, into another Asha'man's house. It would suffice.

 

The man there opened his mouth, and drew on saidin, in surprise, and Aginor wove Air, slashing the man's throat, and maiming him. He burnt the man's body to stop the flow of blood, and used Air to slam his captive down on the table.

 

He smiled. He had time, now. As his captive's eyes flickered, he murmured to himself. "I was never as good at this as Semirhage was, but I suppose I'll have to do."

 

His captive's eyes opened, and he saw the man's face contort in a rictus of hate. The man's eyes flickered over to the pool of blood, and the charred corpse sitting in it, and the room itself. Aginor smiled, and spoke.

 

"Ah, the pretentious child has awoken. I'll not lie to you. I am Aginor, one of the Chosen."

 

Aginor's face resolved itself into a perfect mask of emotionlessness. "I require you to tell me who else knows of me. And tell me you will. Let us begin".

 

He fell silent, and blades of Air slashed across the man's face, followed by wraiths of Fire, sealing the cuts shut, flesh bubbling under his attentions. He then set up several flows of Air to beat the man, bruising him up his legs, on his torso, and on his arms. He continued to use Fire, to trace lines up on the man's body, only hot enough to scald, not hot enough to melt the flesh itself.

 

He had little time, and needed knowledge at this very moment. "Tell me. Tell me now.", his voice impassive. It had only been ten or so seconds since he had begun the torture, but he was impatient. Interrogation had never been his strong point, but he could hardly Gate over to Semirhage's stronghold, wherever she was, and ask her to do it...

 

 

 

Marak, outside, heard the crunch of a boot on a branch.. He whirled around..

[Kalthandrix]

The amount of sadin being channeled made Vykor very much aware of the single silver sword at his collar, but he had little choice. The smell of burning flesh was coming from the small house in front of him and he could see a black coated man standing a the front of the house while sadin, a lot of sadin, was being channeled inside.

 

He knew he should go get Isha, but there was no time. Silently he drew his sword, keeping it low and with a hand on the mouth of his scabbard as he pulled the steel out to keep it from making too much noise. He ghosted silently up behind the other man.

 

He was only about ten feet from the back of the man before him and three feet from a small window build on the house side. Risking a quick peek into the window on his left, he hoping to catch a glimpse of what was going on inside.

 

The sight that greeting him made him wish he had gotten Isha. Vykor could see a man standing over Drenn's form- one that was now savagely slashed and burnt all over. Vykor could not see the mans face in the house, but there was no doubt in his mind that Drenn wa a dead man if he did not do something now. Stealing himself, he gripped his sword tighter and moved forward. He knew what he had to do.

 

Luck was not with him though, for as his foot settled down, he stepped on a small twig that lightly snapped under his foot. Hearing the noise behind him the other man whirled and Vykor's heart sank even further and he knew he was in serious trouble as the other man's collar flashed in the moonlight with twin glints. His new opponent was an Asha'man, and Vykor was a dead man if he attempted to face off with him. So he did the only thing his could.

 

Whipping his arm forward, he sent his sword of power-hardened steel spinning through the air toward the Asha'man and jumped threw the window on his left as soon as the hilt left his hand.

 

Bursting through the window and into the house with glass flying around him, Vykor rolled forward into a crouch and shuffled toward Drenn while quickly weaving the power. He knew that if the man before him had taken out Drenn, then a face to face confrontation would only lead to his death, so he had to move quickly while the other man was distracted with his own weaves.

 

Vykor wove Fire, Spirit, and Air and instantly set off a Fire Halo, a weave he had used when first learning to channel the One Power as a weapon. A pin prick of Fire shot into the air and when it reached shoulder it blossomed out into a white-hot sheet of fire that rippled outward like a wave.

 

The other man was a true master though and was able to slice the weaves of the Fire Halo before it reached him. diving forward, Vykor atempted to reach Drenn to pull him onto a Skimming platform, but as he dove forward he was hit with a club of Air so hard that it blasted him from his feet and through the wall of house, back into the woods Vykor hd just left.

 

The young Dedicated had his flight through the air abruptly halted as he smashed into a very small sappling and shattered it. Gasping for breath and not finding it, Vykor was in such pain that he knew several ribs were broken and his left arm would not move. Crawling out of the reckage of the small tree he had sundered, he fought to form the weave that would allow him to Skim to Isha's house. He heard voices and movement behind him coming closer and a bolt of Fire lanced over his head. Still he could not breath and his vision was narrowing. He knew he had to get away to tell the others. So, fighting the pain and mastering himself, Vykor formed the Skimming weave and opened the Gateway which rippled slightly as it opened, and Vykor threw himself on the platform of the other side and closed the Gateway.

 

The trip through the blackness was over in seconds, and Vykor spilled out of the Gateway and into his former mentor's house and promptly passed out.

[Death Incarnate]

OOC: Kalth we worked this out before. Drenn is supposed to get captured.

[Marak]

OOC: I'm not exactly sure that he rescued Drenn, but, at any rate, Marak is meant to be captured, and then we get to spend some time trying to wheedle out the others' plans, through either good means, or ill.

 

However, any writing practice is good writing practice. Just edit out the main body of the text (or delete the post if you can), and we'll continue on as always.

 

(If you want to, you could ambush Marak and bring him back to the other Asha'men.)

[Guest Estel]

ooc: alright here goes Marak...

 

ic:

 

Long legs paced from one side of the sitting room to the other. As big as Isha's stride was, it took only a dozen paces to reach the other side of the room and another dozen until he was back on the other side.

 

Something was wrong. Deadly wrong. He had felt this snesation before in the Blight, but why now? Why here, the only place in the world he should have been safe? The only haven for male channellers?

 

What was happening around him worried him, but so did what he felt within his mind. It was like another being was there, watching through his eyes. This being had its own emotions which often as not reflected Isha's, often magnifying the big man's feelings.

 

It was like that with his anxiety. It was mirrored by that strange... being was it? In his head. Blood and ashes, was he mad? No, he couldn't be, madmen were always more confident about their sanity than any sane man. Or were they?

 

His dark musing were suddenly cut short and he lept back towards the wall to avoid being slice in half. A Gateway opened and Vykor flew out. As the Gateway snapped shut, Isha could see a platform; the boy had Skimmed. Rounding Isha began shouting at his mentee's dangerous- and stupid- move.

 

"Vykor! Why in the Light are you opening Gateways into here you could have..." Next, he was forced to leap forward and catch the Dedicated before he hit the ground. Anger forgotten, worried curiosity took over. "What in the Pit of Doom happened?" But Vykor didn't answer, the boy simply sagged against Isha's arms completely unconsious.

 

"Noy!" he bellowed, hoping his voice was loud enough to wake the boy. "Get someone to check on Vykor!"

 

Gone was the time for concern about his mentee's condition. Gone the time for dark musing and thoughts. This was a time of action. Isha became a man of action.

 

Dropping Vykor, Isha leaped up the stairs leading to one of the two small towers. In reality, the towers were only a second floor- though they seemed higher due to the height of the floor below, built to accomodate Isha- and were barely higher than any of the other buildings in the Farm. However, removed as he was and upon a hill to the north of the central cluster of buildings, the towers commanded a decent view of the Farm.

 

Siezing saidin, he had to fight the instinct to vomit his entire self onto the wooden floor. Was his mind decieving him or was the Taint afftecting him more than usual. Luckily, in the Void, that though was gone as soon as it had came and Isha's Power enhanced eyes searched for movement in the cluster of former farmhouses and hastily built barracks.

 

There! He saw a dark figure darting between houses and without thinking he wove Spirit and Travelled to the place he had seen the shape.

 

Stepping from the Gateway, Isha listened for movement and upon hearing the dull thud of footsteps running, he darted after them. Monstrous legs ate up ground and he silently thanked Dash for helping him focus on his physical strength so that he gradually gained on the man. Turning a corner, he caught a glimpse of black coat and impulsively he threw a Shield between the man and saidin. Then, in quick succession, he gagged and bound the man in Air before Skimming back to his home, struggling body behind him dragged by seemingly invisible chains.

 

Stepping back into his home, he found Vykor conscious, awaiting his return. Without acknowledging his relief that the boy was well he began ordering Vykor. "Get Drenn, Brand and Nakor. Now!" The boy took off at a run and Isha sat in his large armchair, staring at his prisoner who stared back.

 

ooc: Without the Shielding Talent Isha would likely not be able to Marak, so you can react to that as well...

[Guest Dalinar]

OOC:

 

I'm taking the liberty of butting in here - hope that's ok, partly because Kal mentioned it on the OOC board, partly because it may be a useful way to get Dali a little more aware, and then lead to the loan of the angreal whenever that's appropriate, assuming that is still part of the plan.

 

IC:

 

 

The Dedicated who burst in on his training in one of the large and almost barn-like halls that was set aside for such things was still rubbing sleep from his eyes as his words tripped over one another. "Dali- M'Hael!" He suddenly seemed to remember a quick salute with fist to heart. "Please, come quick, Asha'man Isha sent me to get help for Dedicated Vykor. He is sorely injured!"

 

Sorely injured, at this time of the evening? Perhaps he had been on a night drill. But even so, there were more with the gift of Healing around the Farm these days than Dalinar could keep count of, and even a couple that he suspected could outstrip his own skills with time.

 

Dalinar relaxed from the pose he'd been halfway through, and carefully resheathed Tower's Honour. It was a beautifully crafted thing, but Dalinar still found its use ungainly and awkward most of the time. Nevertheless, he figured he should at least learn its basic use.

 

Drawing slow, deep breaths to calm his body, he turned to the wall and took down his shirt from a hook, pulling it over one arm and then the other and began doing up the buttons at the front.

 

"Lead on then, Dedicated...?" He searched in vain for the man's name.

 

"My name is Noy," He replied quickly already turning for the door.

 

"Right," Dalinar said, following him outside.

 

The wind bit into his flesh as they quickly covered the Tower Grounds and Noy led Dalinar towards the mansion fortress that was Isha's home, drying the fine film of sweat that he'd worked up in the training hall.

 

Once inside he was lead to the comatose form of Dedicated Vykor, his breathing slightly rapid and shallow, and one arm already swelling grossly out of proportion. Short moments later, Dalinar had woven an uncomplicated Healing and Vykor shook his eyes groggily and opened them.

 

Picking himself up off the ground, a little shakily at first, Dalinar addressed the pair. "Now what's going on, how did this happen? Where is Asha'man Isha?" Something stank of trouble.

 

Noy shrugged helplessly and Vykor opened his mouth to reply when Dalinar felt the familiar throb of saidin a moment before a slash of silvery light opened into the room and then spun into a wide portal.

 

Already moving to the shadows at one side of the room, Dalinar spoke in a low but commanding voice, "I was never here, not a word." He threaded a lace of Fire and Air about himself, tying off and inverting the weaves with a quick flick that should hide him from all but the most intense scrutiny before releasing the source.

 

Folding his arms across his chest, he leaned carefully against the wall to watch the scene unfold before him. Isha, throbbing with the Power, stepped through the gateway leading another man, apparently bound and gagged, behind him.

 

Dalinarius Traachanshield,

M'Hael.

 

OOC: Sorry it's a slightly crap post. And if you want me to take it out/change anything then just let me know.

[Marak]

OOC: Argh! Had this up two nights ago, and my computer went down. I'm just posting this here (damn OOC posts, stop replacing my IC ones!) to let y'all know I probably won't be on for awhile, seeing as my %^%*#%@ computer has had.. let us say severe problems.

[Marak]

OOC: Well, I'm confused right now. I'm trying to figure out exactly what's happened, but can't seem to get my head around it. If someone could just recap what happened after Kalthandrix's post, I'd be mightily obliged. (Note to self: Next OOC post will result in self-whackin')

[Guest Estel]

ooc: Vykor only alerted Isha, who then managed to capture you...

[Marak]

OOC: Ah, ok. I was just a bit confused. And then busy. And then.. Well, I'm definitely posting now! I've still got writer's.. well, somewhere near block, but I figure the best way to break it is to try and write!

 

Marak ran, and felt a shield slam onto him. He reached for saidin, but it was gone. Whips of Air went 'round his legs, and gagged him. He struggled, but it appeared the person who had captured him...

 

Had done a good job. He couldn't move, nor could he shout out. He kept struggling, vainly, it seemed, as he was dragged along the ground, his heels bouncing on rocks, and..

 

A door opened. A man stood inside. Marak had seen the man once, he knew who he was. The leader of the Black Tower. If he could've whimpered, he would've.. Aginor wasn't going to be happy about this.

 

He struggled against his bonds desperately, squirming and trying to release himself. There was still a chance. If he could get away, he could tell Aginor. Surely the Chosen wouldn't kill him... He froze. He suddenly heard ghostly words echoing at him from a few minutes away.. "Fail this, and I may give you over to Semirhage so she may entertain herself"

 

Marak stopped moving, and shivered. Hopefully that was just a threat, after all, not even the Chosen could afford to waste Dreadlords like that..

 

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

 

OOC: Drenn, could you just reply to the torture?

 

Aginor snarled. "A boy. He'll be the next to die. Now, tell me what you know. I'll give you an option. I could quite easily turn you over to Semirhage, and let her have her gentle way with you. Or you could tell me what you know now. Make the choise."

 

He stopped speaking, and decided to do something Semirhage had known as well. He had only ever used it for experimental purposes however, so he wasn't sure just how to tweak it. In fact, he had only ever used it to breed pain resistance in his Trolloc hordes.

 

He wove quickly, and strands of the power floated into Drenn's mind. He couldn't modulate it, but it would cause a brief moment of extreme pain. He looked into the man's eyes as he did so, waiting for the man to speak..

[Death Incarnate]

OOC: oh $#!%... sorry marak. I only just noticed now that you'd started the torture. I would have posted sooner but i hadn't really checked page one in a while. I'll be sure to stay on top of this.

 

IC: Drenn woke up slowly and groggly. His head hurt as did a large portion of the rest of him. suddenly the memory of what had happened snapped him fully awake and he began glaring at his captor. He tried to move but he knew well what it felt like to be held by weaves of air. Saidin was lost to him for the time being aswell. His eyes fell on the corpse of another Asha'man whom he barely recognized now. He had trained with the man for a long time now. His anger flared now and he turned his attention back to the man who held him here. His glare could not have held more hate.

 

 

"Ah, the pretentious child has awoken. I'll not lie to you. I am Aginor, one of the Chosen." If he could have spoken he would have yelled but his mouth was stuffed with a weave of air aswell. "I require you to tell me who else knows of me. And tell me you will. Let us begin".

 

Suddenly Drenn felt a searing pain across his face but not before he felt his lower body being pummeled by weaves of air and burnt by fire. Oh light it hurt! He was screaming against the gag as his face stung with cuts and burned with fire at the same time. The pain was agonizing. His body hurt so much he barely noticed when Aginor stopped and was completely oblivious to his words. after a few more moments he began to become aware of his suroundings again and as it did so did his anger.

 

"A boy. He'll be the next to die. Now, tell me what you know. I'll give you an option. I could quite easily turn you over to Semirhage, and let her have her gentle way with you. Or you could tell me what you know now. Make the choise." Drenn kept himself silent when he felt the weave of air lift from his mouth. He would not give the forsaken the pleasure of a response. As if sensing this, aginor began to weave a very intricate weave Drenn had never seen before and barely managed to follow. Suddenly pain erupted within him that he had never felt before. A pain so great it made his previous experience feel like friendly tickling. and as quickly as it had come, it was gone. though it left a lingering pain. Drenn recovered from this one faster then he had the other though and met the mans gaze as steadily as he could manage. The Dark One had been responsible for the death of his family! He would not be weak now before his servants. His voice hoarse and pained, he spoke.

 

"It must have just burned at you earlier that an insignificant little thing like me beat you in a sword fight." It was an effort but he managed to mix a weak smile into his glare. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

 

OOC: Lets bring on the pain. and the Myrddraal. Mind if I bring Nostros in? I'm sure he'd love it! :twisted: