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DRAGONMOUNT

A WHEEL OF TIME COMMUNITY

Accepting the truth (Sereth's Arrival)


Kura

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There was a bounce in Sereth's step as he approached the partially walled town. His intelligent eyes scanning the buildings, people, especially those in black coats, and everything else. At first glance, it was impressive, but the young philosopher looked deeper. The men in black coats all seemed to have a scowl, where they like this originally, or did the training change them? He knew from his travels that a black silk coat meant Asha'mon, a legendary status to this hopeful.

 

His eyes continued to scan, noticing pins of swords, and 'dragons' on the collars of many black coats. He guessed that this was some kind of rank, but that was all he could gather with a glance. An Asha’mon with both sword and dragon noticed the intense scrutiny of the new comer, and shook his head. Sereth could only imagine he muttered, but the distance to great for him to overhear. Sereth lowered his gaze a portion, trying to avoid offending someone who he was fairly certain could tear him apart without a second thought, though he did approach him. He had to know where to go after all.

 

The man's foot tapped unceasingly, another clear sign of his annoyance, as Sereth asked the simple question. "What building do I go to, to learn how to channel?" With a sigh, a black sleeve lifted, the manicured finger pointing towards an inn. "Go there, wait for some poor bastard to pick you up, and leave me alone." Sereth obeyed without question, there was something odd in the man's voice, a less kind version of his former teacher.

 

On his short journey to the inn, Sereth thought. Nearly every black coat seemed upset, easily irritated, and so many other negative emotions. Now, was this coincidence, the training, or the taint? From his long discussions with his teacher, whom he later learned had a rather large incite on such things, his thoughts settled on the taint. The reality of his situation settled in, he would go insane, and he would be a weapon. The first didn't bother him as much as the latter; his teacher often said the only way to accept truth was to be labeled insane.

 

Sereth was ready for the truth.

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Arath was not partiularly enjoying his day.  There had been a number of training accidents earlier, and they seemed to be wearing down on everyone.  The Asha'man were even surlier than usual today.  Eager to take a moment to relax, he set out toward the inn to enjoy a good meal.

 

"Got one waiting in there for you," said a rough voice as he approached the door.  A particularly sour looking Asha'man whose name Arath didn't remember glared at him for a moment before mumbling an added, "Sir.  New recruit showed up a few minutes ago and I told him to wait there."

 

Nodding at the other man to leave, Arath stepped inside and instantly spotted the newcomer at a table by himself.  Without wasting any time Arath walked up and introduced himself.  "I am Attack Leader Faringal.  Welcome to the Black Tower.  I assume you're here to learn, to see if you can use Saidin?"

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Sereth sat, toying with a glass of spiced wine. Perhaps he was young, but nothing got the mind into those obscene corners of thought like alcohol, right? His glass was raised partially to his lips as a new patron entered the inn. The man's gaze fell directly on the young philosopher. Well, it seems my patience won't be tried today.His voice rang snugly in his head, leading him to wonder if another would soon join it. His thoughts were interrupted by the black coated man's voice.

 

"I am Attack Leader Faringal.  Welcome to the Black Tower.  I assume you're here to learn to see if you can use Saidin?"

 

A grin widened on his thin lips, eying the man. He looked strong, confident, and a wide arrange of other rather impressive qualities. Hmm, Attack Leader? Well, I suppose that makes sense... Idle thoughts, but he responded promptly enough. "Oh, me? No. I already know I can channel Saidin, I just need someone to teach me how. My old philosophy teacher told me. I suppose his madly enlightened views of this world, make just that much more sense now." A short chuckle rolled off his tongue.

 

"But I digress, back to business. Is there some sort of introduction I need to hear? Or will you simply be taking me out to the field and teaching me how to blow things up with the Power? Or hell, will you even be teaching me?" Sereth fell pray to the one weakness of a philosopher: Ranting. Yes, an absolutely priceless skill he never learned was how to shut his mouth. Still, one could hope that the Attack Leader would let this annoying habit slide, at least for now. After all, he wasn't even initiated yet.

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  • 2 weeks later...

OOC:  Sorry this took so long.  Real life's been crazy lately.

 

IC:  Arath stuggled to keep his face neutral as the new recruit rambled.  Had he been able to channel already, he would have thought him mad.  As it was, he was just slightly annoying.  And what was this about a philosophy teacher telling him he could channel?  That was more than a little disturbing.

 

"Well, as it happens I have a little free time right now to get you settled in.  But first, if you don't mind my asking, how did your former teacher test you for channeling?"  Arath nodded as Sereth described the process.  It seemed legitimate.  "Very well.  First I'll need to explain a few things to you, then we'll get you started with channeling."  Drawing a chair to himself with a flow of air, Arath sat himself down at the table.

 

"You understand that you give up everything to join the ranks of the Asha'man?  All rank, position, family . . . everything?  There are some who's families are crazy enough to join them, but for the most part, your family will disown you.

 

"There is also a very real, and very likely chance that you will either die in training, or go mad, in which case we will be forced to kill you.  You will be forged into a weapon for the Lord Dragon, and will do as he bids.  For your own safety, you will respect the rank of those higher than you.  Ranks are easy enough to distinguish.  Everyone wears a black uniform.  Soldiers, your rank, wear it unadorned.  Dedicated wear this silver pin," he touched the silver sword at his neck," and Asha'man wear this golden Dragon pin.  Anyone with embroidered sleaves is an officer, Attack or Storm Leader, so tread lightly around them."

 

Arath paused to see how well the other man was absorbing all the information.  "Any questions?  Or shall I just show you around?"

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Sereth grew a bit somber. He knew when his tongue wore on peoples nerves. At least this one hadn't responded to negatively. He'd make a mental note to use a more clipped form of speech, which of course meant talking like everyone else, but hey, that was clipped for him. "He lit a candle, with his back to me. I couldn't see it being lit, but he moved his arms as if he meant too, and told me to focus. After some time, he laughed and told me I could channel." His head bobbed when Arath told him of his position. He'd already accepted that he was alone now, only leaving a note and a mad old man to explain everything to his parents. It wouldn't do good for their customers to learn that they bore a 'monster'.

 

"So, I have almost not chance of survival? My mind so used to exploring the finer parts of thought, shall be reforged, sharpened, and hardened into that of a weapon? If it must be done to learn, than I will. As to rank, I'll make sure to step in line. The more decoration, the more cautious I must be."

 

When Arath asked him that simple question, his mind buzzed with hundreds. Where will I stay, what are the chances of me living, when will my body start to fall apart? He suppressed them all, he was sure he would be told the answer to most, and find out for himself with the others. "No, continue with the tour and training." He stood, waiting for Arath to move and show him around. So, his first accomplishment in the Black Tower. A tour, it was a step in the right direction.

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  • 1 month later...

OOC: Damn, I can never remember this thread for some reason.  Sorry.

 

IC:  Arath nodded and arose from the table.  His meal could wait a while he supposed.  Motioning for Sereth to follow him, he walked out the front door and began pointing out the sights.

 

"The inn here is sort of the center of our social lives here.  Not a whole lot else to do but drink your worries away.  Always very busy."

 

The sound of an explosion drew their attention from across the grounds.  Walking a short way, Arath pointed toward the large open field where soldiers and dedicateds stood, decimating earthen practice dummies by the dozens under the instruction of the Asha'man.  "That is where you'll be spending the majority of your time, practicing with Saidin.  There is always plenty of supervision, so you don't have to worry too much about anyone going mad on you.  If it happens, the lost one is put down quickly.  We can't afford many losses.

 

"The soldier barracks," he continued, motioning to a long, plain looking building, "is where you will be staying for the time being.  You'll move to the dedicated barracks," he pointed to an slightly larger but equally plain building a short distance beyond, "when you advance to that rank.  If you are assigned a mentor who already has a house," he said waving in the general direction of the majority of the Asha'man homes, "he may have you stay in his home to ease training."

 

The tour lasted only a few minutes more, with Arath pointing out the other necesary buildings and services of the tower.  At the conclusion, Arath opened up a gateway to the traveling room of his own home and waved Sereth through.  A few minutes later he had found a suitable black coat and presented it to the new soldier.  "Anything else you wish to know before you get started?"

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  • 2 weeks later...

Sereth followed Arath dutifully, taking in every structure with a glance. He'd always been taught to take in every detail at a glance. He was taught this by being showed a group of objects, and after a bare seconds time, they were covered, and one was changed. It grew difficult to guess which was changed, but he had taken the lesson to heart. Watching the men practice, Sereth thought he could see the weaves being used, and he nodded. Everyman there except the Asha'mon himself was raising dummies and destroying them. He wondered how many of the men would make the difference between an earthen dummie and a darkfriend or shadowspawn by the time they too were fully raised.

 

Then a silver slash appeared in the air, and rotated open to form a hole to some room or another. He inhaled sharply, staring at it, it was amazing. Still a merchants son, he thought how much money his parents could make with instantaneous deliveries... Then he was waved through, and cautiously he did follow.

 

Any questions? Yes, what was that, how did you do it, how long before I can do it, how strong are you, how strong am I, are there any nice people here, when do we go to kill things, is the only thing I'm going to be a weapon, etc. With all these thoughts buzzing in his mind, he still managed to shake his head no. "I think I'll be able to handle myself from here. Thank you for the tour, sir." With that, he found the door out of the house, and headed back into town. It was going to be an interesting stay here...

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