Awake! (BT Bubble of Evil RP, all BTers welcome)

[Guest Dalinar]

A gentle sighing hiss allowed a breath of air to escape from the crevice of rock buried deep within the heart of the Blight, deeper still within the heart of Shayol Ghul, deepest - the place where the Dark One himself was trapped outside of time, where his touch was closest to the Pattern of the Age.

 

The silent and invisible breath snaked its way between rocks, across jagged rock faces and around countless twists and turns until it joined with stronger gusts of air that carried it further still until, after a seemingly interminable journey, it managed to claw its way free of the earthen cage that had sought to trap it and broke out into the open sky.

 

It gained momentum with its freedom, almost a will of its own as it exulted in its escape and tumbled in a chaotic dance across the blasted plains surrounding the Dark One's prison. The sulphurous tang that had tainted it was thinned and made less potent by the other currents of air joining in the dance which carried it, perhaps by chance or perhaps something else, away from its birth place and south, south, ever south.

 

Across the Blight it blew, the stained and diseased lands adding their fomented and poisonous taint to the breath as it gathered speed and urgency that pushed it ever onwards. A haunting silence preceded it, and an eerie stillness was left in its wake, the calm before the breaking of a storm.

 

The breath, growing into a wind, found its way beyond the Blight before too long. It whipped and pulled at the leaves of trees and at the blades of grass as it found its way into the Borderlands. Through mountain passes and forests and open plains it passed. Grasping at the feathers of a hapless birdling, its fingers dug in and threw the raptor to an untimely and early demise. A blanket of flowers was ripped to shreds with the passage of the wind as it sped through a meadow, the Green Man's grave as beautiful now as nearly a year before. Everlast, the Borderlanders called the tiny blossoms that carpeted the meadow and had now been found in patches throughout the lands along the Blight's edge. But the wind didn't know the name, and didn't care for the beauty. Devastation was left at its passing.

 

From the countryside of the Border nations, on to the farmlands and cities populated by people the wind blew. It battered harshly against the peak known as Dragonmount and entwined itself in the ivory spire that marked one of the greatest monuments of the current Age. It hissed and spat and gave off haunting wails as it whipped its way further south, through the spleandour and squallor of Caemlyn, leaving a chill in the spine of all who marked its passage through the city.

 

Then finally, grudgingly, it lost its momentum. Buffered by the woods and dark forests around Caemlyn, the ancient trees, some dating back to the Breaking of the World, fought back against the wind. Leaves were ripped and shredded from branches, boughs splintered and cracked in the struggle, but the wind was losing its fight.

 

Eventually, the gale seemed to lose its vengeance. The sulphurous tang that had been carried from the northern lands faded into yet another deathly, chilled silence as it settled into the forest, sinking deep into the peat and loam that gave life to the dark-barked limbs of the gentle giants that stretched far above.

 

Everything in the forest stilled for a moment, a bated breath held in anticipation of... something... that changed.

 

A bubble slid up a thread of the Pattern of the Age. Born from evil out of time, and into reality and the Light, it burst.

 

Trey had settled down for the night at his outpost quite comfortably. Truth be told, he found these duties interminably boring, so he often brought a book or a stones board, knives or any manner of distraction into the forest with him when he was rostered for sentry duty. At fifteen, he hardly thought it was the kind of work that he should be relegated to, but then again, there wasn't much work that Trey Rosen relished being relegated to at all. Whether teaching classes, attending to training, embarking on recruitment journies, running chores for senior Asha'man or any other duty that hinted even vaguely at 'responsibility', Trey was sure to be the first to have a good excuse why he couldn't possibly manage to take on the task.

 

So, tonight, he had settled himself at the foot of the sentry outpost, a wooden structure that stretched up into the lower branches of the trees and was leaning himself against the trunk of a weeping willow. All the wards were in place, the forest was still and as quiet as ever he had heard it, and nothing was going to deprive him of a good night's rest.

 

Nestling in between two large and gnarled roots of the tree, he settled in for a long shift that would take him through to sunrise. His eye lids were heavy, his eyes gritty with sleep, and before long they began to close over as he was swept into a gentle slumber.

 

His dreams whirled and changed randomly, and most of them he wouldn't remember when he woke. They were the dreams of a normal dreamer, inconsequential and full of the fantastic and wild and unbelievable.

 

Right up to the slightly bosomy young girl with blonde tresses of hair past her shoulders and a scent like a forest full of wildflowers blossoming in early Spring. Her smile was a rosey crescent of sweetness on her face, her teeth perfectly formed and whiter than fresh snow on the highest peaks, her eyes more blue and more deep than the most wondrous ocean. They lay on a carpet of lavender blossoms, and she rolled over him, her honey-streaked hair cascading down around him in a purely pleasurable way, her lips drawing closer to his and her arms cradling him to her breasts. Sweetness filled him as their mouths met and she drew him closer, the moment stretched, and stretched...

 

And Trey began to struggle for breath. His lungs were burning, he realised, as he struggled vainly to take a gasp of air, sweet sweet air that he desired even more than he had desired that wondrous kiss. The arms so tender moments ago, now crushed him tight, and began to squeeze even tighter as he fought against them and against the lips that were stealing the life from him. He felt a sickening crack in his chest, and breath-taking pain swept him out of the dream and back into the forest near the Black Tower.

 

But nothing changed, and the nightmare became his reality. He still struggled for breath, and the stabbing pain in his chest only increased with every second. It was all he could do to struggle for the Void, and as he began to feel slightly dizzy and lights danced in front of his eyes he finally, thankfully, managed to find his escape.

 

Pain fell away, a forgotten memory. The sensation that he was, quite literally, dying for air, faded into the background. Saidin leapt to his grasp and by instinct, a flood of light bloomed overhead as a miniature sun formed and shone brilliantly and intensely upon him.

 

And he realised that he had indeed woken to a nightmare. The trees had twisted, and the outpost itself was now a shambles of shattered wood at the foot of the tree that had carried it. Like iron bindings, the roots of the tree that he had found rest against had wound their way around his chest and were still doing their best to squeeze the life out of him. A branch had swung low from the tree, and was wrapped around his throat, choking him steadily.

 

If he had had any breath, he was quite convinced that he probably would have squealed like a brattish school girl at that point. Instead, he wove threads of Air and fought against the tree that had him snared in its clutches. The threads gave him a moment of relief, long enough for him to gasp a breath and pain to stab vaguely at his chest through the Void, and then the roots and branches redoubled their efforts, closing in tighter, the weaves of Air all but ignored as the vice drew tightly closed again.

 

Voicing a loud curse in his head, one that he probably shouldn't have known at his age but that one picked up readily enough in the Tower grounds, Trey wove Fire this time with Air and Spirit to feed it. He bound the branch and roots tightly with it before releasing the weave.

 

With a flash, the wood ignited, blistered and blackened with intense heat. Vaguely, Trey was aware that his own skin gave off a foul odour as patches of it were also caught in the panicked weaves. Waves of pain sought to sweep the Void, and saidin, out of his grasp but he valiantly maintained his hold on both.

 

The tree jerked as if in agony at the touch of the Power, and the grip loosened and then gave way as the charred roots fell free. Trey stumbled to his feet, looking around him desperately. The trees seemed to be closing in from around him, if such were possible, and for a fleeting moment he wondered if he were still dreaming. It was possible, he'd heard, to dream oneself into another reality... and yet this seemed all too real.

 

He hesitated only another moment longer before drawing on the Power again and sending a spiral of spinning flame and sparks high into the sky over head. When it reached its peak it hung for a moment, suspended by an invisible hand, and then burst with a thundering boom. Before it had even reached its full height, Trey was already moving quickly on his feet, the feet that had kept him alive for many years as a thief and vagrant in the streets of Tear, dashing off at full speed towards the Tower walls.

 

He staggered more than once as he ran, and fell a couple of times too as the pain in his body sought to overwhelm him. As the Farm walls drew into sight, he drew once again on saidin, the struggle against it the only thing allowing him to push the struggle against the fiery agony in his chest into the background, and wove heavy bars of Fire and Air into the night. "Awake! Up and arms! Awake!!"

 

Somehow, he didn't really know how at this point, his feet carried him to the safety of the walls. But there, to his horror, the nightmare had already found purchase. The sleeping Farm was already being over-run by chaos. He was too late.

 

Oh Light! Where are the other sentries! Damn them all as sheep-brained fools!

 

"Awaaake!"

 

Bubbley Evil and

Trey Rosen,

Asha'man.

 

OOC Join in the fun and revelry, two days of panic will ensue. Dash if you want to bring in the Traitor's Tree aspect go for it, I couldn't really bring it into this post without it going on even longer. Any questions don't hesitate to ask, but mostly just post and Enjoy!!

 

Cheers,

Dali/Ben,

BT Div Leader.

[jasonr]

ooc: ok, due to all of the editing, this one might be a little (or a lot) bit odd.

 

IC: Noy tossed in his sleep. Nightmares like this one frequently weacked his brain during the few hours he slept. This nightmare was one of the bad ones, it was about Mara. She stood before him, dressed in finery, and spoke. "Noy, this is what I always wanted, deep down, but I knew I couldn't have it with you, so I lived." The fine clothes changed to regular farm clothes. "I endured, lived, I was ok with what I had, dreamed of our baby," her stomach expanded until it seemed that she was obviously pregnent. "But you had to take away that dream also, Noy. You left me as nothing, now I am nothing, I have nothing left." The clothes transformed into begger's cloth, ripped and rough.

 

Noy saw visions of Mara and an unknown baby, obviously his, laying on the ground, both sobbing. Mara vanished, leaving the baby alone, cold on the streets. The baby morphed into a grown man, a grown woman. Noy was not sure which. The adult, his child, extended his arms towards Noy's neck. "You left me with nothing, as nothing, father. You ran off to join the Black Tower, to become what you hate, what I hate," Noy's child said. Noy tried to argue, "This was never my intention, I always wanted the best for you. It pains me every time I think of you. Please," Noy begged, "forgive me."

 

"I will never forgive you, you killed me," moaned an apparation of Mara. "You left me, might as well have killed me," growled his child. They hame towards him, their hands clenched around his throat. He felt the tears stream down his cheeks as they spoke. "You killed us, and now we will kill you. You will be with us. After all, isn't that what you wanted?"

 

"No, I never wanted this... never for you," Noy managed to choke out. Noy gave up, he deserved to die. Just then, something rose in him... Something... rebelous. Noy wanted to rebel against them, he wanted to live. Almost in a haze, he embraced Saidin. He wove with Fire, distorting their features, burning them to ashes.

 

Noy woke with a shout of, "Awaaake!". Noy was sobbing, the remaines of his bed-clothes charred and seared. The sheets tried to strangle him once again, and he burnt them again, over and over. Noy had no idea how much of his room he had distroyed with Saidin. After he had removed himself from the corner, curled up in a ball, he opened the door. To the best of his abilities, he destroyed all of the living objects most of them, oddly enough, were plants. Things that should have never been moving, let alone attacking people, were coming to life. Noy wondered what in the name of Light could do that. His eyes cold, he saw the various plants attacking people. He stopped their newly-found movement, and realized what it was like to be a murdurer.

 

Noy had burnt straw manikens before, things that were not alive, but these things, although not human, had the gift of life, and Noy truely knew what it ment to rob something of life. The plants might already have been living, but they were still non-moving, practicly dead. It appalled him, yet the anger and hatred he felt over-ruled that. As he swept his gaze across the Farm, he killed all of the plants, cursed with their evil limbs. Noy did not really feel himself while he was doing that, but it was him. Noy saw that the trees were also attacking the Inn. Pots and pans were scattered everywhere, but the Inn was intact. A falling pot became the head of his child. "You always kill me, father. Do you hate me that much, or are you just a coward?"

 

Fury swept through Noy, and he wove threads of Saidin. Fire melted the "head" and flows of Air crumpled the molten remains into a ball. The head became the pot once more, or rather, a ball of metal. Looking upon what had once seemed to be the head of his child, Noy wanted to cry. Sadness was everywhere, but crying seemed just out of reach, like his shadow. Noy picked up the ball of metal, and it felt cool to his skin. He wove flows of fire, and melted it into a small, perfectly round, globe, about the size of a gem that might be found on a lady's necklace. Noy picked it up and it was still hot. Pain lanced through his hand and he dropped the ball.

 

Noy observed the burn on his palm, white and shimmering, then picked up the cooled metal. He pocketed it, and went off to kill some more. Noy was terrified an disoriented, what could bring such distruction? Noy came to the traitor's tree, and there was the real confusion. The heads were alive, attacking people. As Noy atempted to stop them he thought about his dream, about his child, about everything, and he felt as if a part of his soul had just died.

 

ooc: EDIT: *snort* next time I will try reading about the thread before posting, then I won't have to edit it, like, four times.

[706Somtaaw]

Dashiva rolled out of his bed as he felt Saidin being woven in the middle of the night, seizing saidin himself and drawing deeply as he shook off the last remants of sleep.

 

He charged out of his room, thinking yet another attack on the Tower was happening, and as he leaped out of his front door already dropping the wards around his home he heard the beginnings of panicked shouts.

 

Turning in a circle once he stopped and ran in the direction he was facing to start directing the Asha'men in defending the grounds and glanced at the Traitor's tree as he passed before skidding to a halt. There was usually dozens of heads hanging from the tree, all heads of various traitors and they were all missing.

 

who would steal heads? and heads of traitors of the Black Tower? he thought before running towards a man in black looking around wildly in front of him.

 

Something impacted against his back, and he dove forwards into a roll and turned to see heads floating towards him, gnashing their teeth and foaming at the mouth.

 

Dashiva's mouth dropped, and he wove clubs of air knocking some of the heads hard against the ground, only to watch in horror as they simply floated back up and the ones he hit quickly floated off before he could shake off his shock. Even a Fade couldn't have stunned him more than he was right then.

 

He sucked air in as he felt a bite on his hand and looked down to see a foaming head float away from his left hand and dart forwards, presumably to bite again.

 

Weaving Air with Fire this time, Dashiva slammed it to the ground and burned the traitors head before looking around wildly, drawing the short sword from his hip one handedly without thinking.

 

"This can't be happening, what in the Light is going on," he howled, stabbing at another head instead of channeling.

[Death Incarnate]

OOC: fun fun fun...

 

IC: Drenn was lying on his back off to the side of the towers main grounds staring at the nights sky, lost in deep thought. Sleep had come and gone for him very briefly this night and he knew he wouldn't get anymore. The Dreams, nay, the nightmares that plagued his sleep had become more frequent of late and he found himself enjoying the peace of the night more and more. The longer it went on the less tired he seemed to be finding himself during the days aswell. It was concerning...

 

Tonight was a bright night due to a full moon in the sky that would be hidden every now and then by the odd cloud. He'd been lying there for about an hour without disturbance when a falling leaf landed right on his face. Brushing it off he looked around curoisly. There wasn't a tree in over paces. as he turned towards the walls he saw a great many leaves floating across the walls of the tower and coming straight at him. the first few he merely brushed away but then the rest began to very quickly pick up pace. after about a minute they were cutting through the air and when he tried to brush one aside it didn't stop and left a long streak in his hand which began to leak blood. Before he knew he had cuts all over him from where they were streaking at him and they were getting deeper.

 

Franticly he formed the void and Grasped for Saidin. It hit him like a torrent and he was nearly lifted away by the bliss of it before he was crushed back down by an almost overwhelming need to empty his stomach. Every singe leaf racing towards him suddenly became as clear as they were sharp. A quick weave of fire burst those leaves into ash before they could cut his eyes out. With the ash of them drifting towards the ground his attention was suddenly drawn to a flare rising into the sky which eruptedinto a mass of flames and a boom which sent a shockwave rippling across the Black Tower. Suddenly his vision was obscured even more by a grey cloud which seemed to settle itself around him and it burned within his cuts. Vainly he tried to wave it away but it only settled that much heavily over him. Quickly he realized it was all the ash from the leaves as he smelled the burnt leaves. Smelled it and... Breath was coming more and more difficultly as the ash found itsway into his lungs with every breath. Now, with his breath held he began to weaken as his mind raced frantically searching for a solution. Sinking to his knees he nearly let go and took a breath but stopped himself just in time. With the ash as thick as it was it would suffocate him with one breath. It was settling heavily on him and it was begining to weigh him down. On his knees, bent over on the ground his thoughts began to fade and a darkness began to take hold of his mind. He fought now simply to keep that mental light of Saidin in sight. Lose that and he was dead. Lose that and... Lose... Suddenly he wove Air in uncertainty, settling a barrier on his skin just underneat the ash and with a pulse threw it all off of him. opening his eyes he took a breath. Clean air. He gasped air greedily taking it all in. Looking around now he saw the cloud decending again and with air he formed a bubble around him large enough to move about in. He watched as the ash began to settle on his bubble and tried to think of a way to get rid of it. suddenly and Idea came to mind in the form of a weave he had picked up of of an Asha'man. Weaving Air, Earth and Spirit just so a whole opened up horizontaly over top of him and rotated into a gate to a black nothingness. he had seen men disapear into these on little platforms countless times but now he needed it for something else. releasing his weave of air the ash began to fall again. right into the gateway. After it disapeared into the great black nothingness he released the weave and it sealed with the Ash inside it.

 

Now looking around for the first time he realized the Tower had erupted into caos. Saidin was in use everywhere as Channelers worked frantically trying to destroy the annomalies wherever they found them. With a combination of earth and air he destroyed a bunch of dinner plates that were following some people out of the inn. It may have been his imagination but he could have sworn he saw a house try and eat someone. Danger was everywhere and the night was young.

[Aldazar]

OOC: This should be interesting

 

IC: After a day free of training Aldazar went to bed early, unfortunately sleep eluded him after an hour or two he decided he might as well go out and train with sword and The Power. Grabbing his things he left the Soldier’s barracks and headed east of the farm to a clearance he had made in the middle of the forest for his own training he had made it out of the way of most running paths and other training areas in hopes of keeping it to himself.

 

On arriving to the area he rid him self of the leather straps used for holding his two swords on his back, then removed his coat and shirt he allowed himself to feel the cold of night. Moving to the center of the clearance he assumed the Void and took hold of Saidin he then wove statues of earth for targets then made columns and steps around himself the whole thing made him as tired as he would be after going for a run with Isha after he was done he let go of Saidin but maintained the Void he then moved back to his things and picked up both of his swords and begun to run the course he had made, dodging between columns, running up and down stairs, striking at the statues with his swords.

 

The Moon had just reached its zenith when he noticed all of the Saidin being wielded around him, totally absorbed in his work he had noticed nothing, but when he had stopped for a breather all of it came crashing home. As he began to move to retrieve his shirt and coat the crashing sound of one of his columns falling over made him whirl around raising both swords, what he found made him drop both swords. When he had made his obstacle course he had left at least 10 paces between all of his stone columns and the trees now there were trees between him and the columns leaving him with maybe 5 paces between him and the trees. Light, what in the world is happening. He grabbed hold of Saidin and wove a sword of fire in each hand. Realizing this would leave him with no way to do other weaves he let go of the sword in his left hand, then he turned and ran back toward the Inn, there he should find someone that knew what was going on.

 

But as he turned he found the same problem as before he was enclosed in his clearing, releasing the other sword he started throwing fire balls and using blades of air to cut and burn the trees away he had to move slowly because of all the trees and he had no chance to collect his belongings, if he lived through the night he could always come back for them. His movement was slow because for every tree he destroyed in front of him he had to turn and lash out against trees on either side of him and those behind as well. When he made it out he thanked the Light he had made it and not collapsed from exhaustion in the middle of that. From there he ran all the way back to the Inn and found everything the same as what he faced if not worse and he was all but spent for the rest of the night from his fighting out of the woods. Now he stopped and felt the power being used around him it seemed of the fighting was going on at the traitor’s tree, Aldazar forced himself to a trot taking hold of items with flows of air where he could stopping them from moving. It seemed that after he denied the items of movement they lost whatever had made them start moving in the first place.

 

Arriving at the traitor’s tree Aldazar felt a shock that threatened to destroy the Void and send Saidin flying. Not only were the trees alive but also the heads of those who had abandoned the Black Tower were flying around snarling and biting at people, the shock lasted only moments and when he gathered himself he began to offer the little help he could with what energy he had left.

[Guest Dalinar]

"Awaaake!"

 

The shrill warble cut through the fuzz of Dalinar's subconscious like a knife. With a jerk, he pulled his chin up from his chest and blinked around him wearily. Evidently he had fallen asleep - again - while working into the wee hours of the night. Sniffing unattractively and trying to clear the sleep out of his head, he blinked a couple of times and his eyes readjusted to the slightly harsh lamp light that kept his desk in a well and well lit glow.

 

Grumbling irritably at the intrusion to his rest, but also at the thought of what might have driven someone to intrude on his rest in such a rude way in the first place, he shifted his hands off the desk and to the arms of the chair he sat on to haul himself up.

 

Or he would have, had his hands been willing. Looking down at them, his irritation growing, he suddenly balked and let out a noisey and startled oath. "Blood and flaming...!" His hands, oddly, were overgrown by vine-like cords of plant-life that seemed, of all things, to have grown themselves out of the knots in the woodwork on the surface of his desk. A more direct attempt at freeing his hands proved fruitless.

 

With a guttural growl, saidin leapt to his bidding, the faint glow over his shoulder bursting into brilliance in his hands. Molten lead sought to burn its way out from his belly as a blizzard of biting cold battered its way in from around him and where they met his struggle for life was the only thing that seemed even close to sane. Less than a heart beat, and the bindings on his hands - quite literally - disintegrated in a torrent of the One Power that wound around and through them. Black soot marked the backs of his hands and stained the polished surface of his work area when he was done and he realised that he wasn't entirely sure what it was, exactly, that he had done.

 

But his hands were free, for the moment at least, and he leapt to his feet only to stagger and catch himself against his desk as he discovered that his ankles, too, were bound by thick vines sprouted from his chair legs. The oath he used this time was unrepeatable, and uncharacteristic for the M'Hael, as razor fine flows of Air neatly sliced the cuffs away from his heels.

 

Out the window, he was vaguely aware of chaos in the Farm grounds. There seemed to be several shadowed figures already surrounding the Traitor's Tree below him, and he was sure that the Tree itself had a life of its own that it certainly shouldn't. Looking further afield, his face went slightly grey as a large section of the Farm wall that could be seen in the distance came crashing down, the forest beyond seeming much closer than it should have.

 

Snapping out of his moment of stunned disbelief, he channeled quickly as a projectile hurtled through the air from the same section of wall, heading towards the Tower-house where his office rested. Had the trees just thrown that stone or was it his imagination? What in the Light was throwing it? With an explosive breath out, he managed to divert the course of the low-flying rock into, he hoped, a safer area of the Farm.

 

The effort made Dali want to gasp for air, almost. He was used to channeling with control, and for long periods sometimes if the Healing was complex enough, but the knee-jerk reaction and the sheer amount of the Power he had used instinctively when that wall-stone had been launched by... whatever had launched it, had already been enough to sap his strength noticeably.

 

Within moments, he was racing towards his study door, snatching up his quarterstaff from its resting place near the door on the way, praying that its wood would not start playing tricks as other things in the Farm had started to.

 

His destination, the Infirmary, was firmly fixed in his head as he darted down the stairs leaping three or even more at a time until he was out into the cold night air...

 

Dalinarius Traachanshield,

M'Hael.

[TheWitchKing]

Brand sat on a branch, high up in a tree, just between the realms of sleep and conscious. I one hand rested his finished pipe. He had up until now, not been able to sleep, and he was finally sliding into peace. As his eyes slowly slid closed, he caught a flashing from the tree next to his. Fighting off the sleep that filled him, he quietly pulled out one of his swords. His eye grabbed a hold of what had moved, and he almost dropped his sword in disbelief. What looked like a human, but impossibly smaller and covered in disgusting skin creped slowly up the tree. It had been a reflection of the moon light in his eyes that had wakened Brand.

 

Brand grasped a hold of Saidin and prepared to incinerate the ugly thing in a small fire storm, but it was if the creature sensed him channeling and flung itself towards him, its pike pointed at his heart. Brand had barley the chance to dodge the on coming rush and was just able to jump away. A stinging pain came from his leg, were the pike had bit into. Thrusting his blade trough the creature head as they fell together, Brand was satisfied with the cracking sound it made as his blade broke its skull. Grabbing onto a branch, Brand let the lifeless body of the thing drop to the ground.

 

Quickly producing a bunch of clean bands of cloth and wraped them around the wound on his leg. Brand swung down from the tree and limped off towards the farmhouse. One of the senior Asha'man would have an answer for all of this. Arriving at the traitor’s tree, Brand stopped dead and his mouth dropped. It was like it was alive and its limbs were thrashing about trying to kill people. The heads that normally hanged were floating about trying to take bites out of people. His eyes widening, he watched on of the head approach his mentee from behind. Launching himself at the head, he managed to knock it away with a blow that should have cut it cleanly in half. Not letting it the time to gather itself, Brand simply blew it up. Small parts of skin and other's sprayed about, but Brand wove a shield of air to protect him and his mentee. Turning around Brand smiled to Aldazar. "What in the bleeding name of hell is going on here? Or have we been transported to that burning wasteland already?"

[Asfaloth]

"Awaaake!!"

 

Startled, Nakor leapt from his bed. Not that he'd been sleeping. After a long day filled with both giving and receiving lessons in the use of Saidin Nakor had only just dragged himself to his bed when the alarm rang out.

 

As he was still dressed he rushed out the door to see what was happening. Rushed out the door and into three Soldiers. Looking past them he saw that the Soldiers were running in fear from a tree of all things. How could a tree be chasing them? Weaving as fast as he could Nakor raised a shield between himself and the tree. Just in time too as he was immediately pelted by a wave of acorns of all things.

 

"Stay behind me!" He shouted over his shoulder to the three young boys. He watched as the tree reared back to let loose another volley of its miniature artillery and then sent forth a volley of his own. Weaving flows of Fire he boiled the sap from inside the tree and watched it explode from the inside out.

 

"Follow me, let's see who needs our help." He commanded the Soldiers and then led them to the center of the compound, where Dashiva and several others seemed to be battling the Traitor's Tree.

 

Nakor joined the fray and shouted out to anyone who could answer, "What's going on? This thing should be a burnt crips by now!"

[Andar]

It was a peaceful scene, a dark bedroom, lit only by a moonbeam that had pierced a gap in thick curtains. A large bed sat against one wall, the centerpiece of the room. Illuminated by the moon was a mound in the middle of the bed. Soft snores rose from the mound and it moved and rolled.

 

The mound, it’s name was Andar was dreaming. It was a good dream, full of puppies, kittens, and Niamh and the Twins of course. If anyone had been awake to hear it they would have heard a scuffling, scraping noise. Like rats, or very, very large roaches. Of course it wasn’t either of these things, Sitting on a side table of the room was a small rose bush in a pot. It was small now but rapidly growing. Sharply thorned tendrils were creeping their way across the room towards the sleeping Asha’man.

 

Andar’s dream was interrupted a few moments later by a hot pain in his leg. Waking quickly with a loud cry, he sat up in bed and scanned the dimly lit room. Squeezing pain hit his wrist and seared up his leg. A large mass of flailing tendrils was quickly filling the room and Andar acted.

 

Saidin roared inside him and he lashed out with fire, severing the thorny vines wrapped around his leg and wrist. Diving from the bed he lobbed a globe of light and gasped in horror as the full scene was revealed. Nia’s prized rose plant had grown to enormous size, and was still growing. Long, sharply thorned tendrils whipped around the room, all covered in fully blooming red flowers. “Blood and ashes!!†he swore as he dived to avoid a vine that slashed, twisting and tangling, growing all the time, towards his throat.

 

His torn leg, still wrapped in a now dead vine, nearly collapsed as he came to his feet and firey blade now in his hand. As fast as he cut, another vine lashed at him, many scoring slashing blows on his near naked body, each burning like a small fire. The vicious plant near filled the room now, billowing and surrounding him, boxing him in and still closing. More and more vines were reaching him now and a tendril of panic threatened the calm of the void.

 

“Die light damn you die!!†Fire and air mixed into an explosive weave just as a sly tendril lanced into his unprotected belly. Andar screamed and the weave went off. The room exploded into flame, the walls standing for a second and then exploding outwards under the full strength of the Asha’mans power. He had a fraction of a second to throw up shields and only just managed. As it was he was launched high into the air and thrown clear of the inferno that had been his house. He landed hard and a loud snap was accompanied by a screaming pain in his left arm and shoulder.

 

A horrible keening wail seemed to come from the burning rose bush as it died, flaming vines flailing through the air, still trying to reach their target but falling short as they burned. Andar lay trying to breath in short shallow breaths, everything hurt. His torn leg and wrist, the sharp stabbing pain in his belly, his scorched skin and what seemed to be a badly broken arm. Staggering to his feet, hair smouldering and stinking he stood and watched the plant burn, reveling in it’s death screams.

 

It was then that the rest of the farm started to register to him. From everywhere there came yells and screams. Saidin was being used in massive amounts. Andar grasped at the void, pushing pain aside as he grasped saidin tight. With a staggering gait he turned from his burning house and tried to find someone else. A bloody rose vine still wrapped around his ankle, topped off with a beautiful blooming flower. What in the light was going on.

 

Andar

Asha'man

[Covai Seriba]

Covai released the tempest of Saidin surrounding and let loose with a blast of fire a foot above the heads and shield of the two dedicated, incinerating three of the heads flying around. "Its no wasteland now boy, but it will be if you dont get your arses way from that tree!" Covai barked. The idiots had to pick near the centre of the problem to stop and ask questions.

 

Not even back a week.... Covai thought. Not even a week and all hell had broken loose. For the first time since Tel'Aran'Rhiod had started to take a turn for the darker, Covai was grateful for his ability to enter the world of dreams. The nightmares running loose there were a reflection of what as happening at the moment. The only problem was, thinking about something else wouldn't make THIS problem go away.

 

Ignoring the sound of one of the houses exploding, Covai focused his concentration on the issue around him. Dashiva was the only one he recognised amongst those down battling the Traitor's Tree. "What's going on? This thing should be a burnt crips by now!"

 

Covai turned to the voice, extending his hand back towards the tree as he turned, sending blades of fire searing towards the tree and the possessed heads around it. "Really? You think so?" Covai snapped. Some people just had to state the obvious.

 

"Start moving people away from here. We can't do anything serious with so many so close to the tree." Covai ordered. "But the ..." The man, Nakor... flashed for a moment in Covai mind before he cut him off. "That's an Order now do it!" Covai shouted. "Concentrate on keeping the heads, and anything else that pops up contained to this area. And watch your backs, there's no telling what else is out there now."

 

No telling, and no point worrying Covai thought. He had almost lost his life a number of times in Tel'Aran'Rhiod over the last few months. When he let his fear and imagination run away with him with thoughts of 'what if...', things only ever got worse. Ignoring the hair falling in his face Covai grinned from within the void. He had lived those those trials, and he'd live through this one.

 

Clicking his fingers of both hands, Covai starting concentrating strands of fire and air around his hands as he turned back to the Traitor's Tree. Saidin in this world, as well with everything in the World of Dreams was a matter of concentration. Covai's eyes narrowed as he focused on the tree, the void around him blocking out everything around him. There was only him, swirling in a tempest of Saidin, and the Traitors Tree, the enemy. Only one of them was surviving the night.

 

Covai grinned from behind his dishevelled hair. After all, he had breakfast to look forward to in the morning.

 

 

OOC: Who else wants to take a shot at taking this bad boy down? :twisted:

[Wayward_fool]

"It's here." Skechid whipped his head around to stare at the other man in the room, whose voice had been hardly a whisper.

 

"Wha-" But Skechid hardly had time to finish his sentence before the world erupted in Saidin. Skechid could feel the Saidin channeled in vast amounts outside. "Outside, Jae'sa and quick!"

 

The door banged open, whipping the room with a gust of wind that swept papers around the room. Skechid seized Saidin and channeled blindly, filling the room with Wards and traps that set themselves around the room. His documents were too precious. "Feel free to help." He snapped sacarstically. But he could already feel the other man fill with Saidin.

 

Fire danced around the room as traps unwound themselves. Shadows danced but the documents stayed protected. The mirror in the corner burst and shards flew towards Skechid, barely blocked by flows of Air. Shadows seemed to solidify and then shrink as odd shaped ones drew towards the Wards. And were destroyed as they touched the dangerous weaves.

 

Then, the window burst in and twines shot at the two men. Fire woven with vast amounts of Spirit into daggers that severed branches before they could touch either men.

 

"What is this?" Skechid heard Jae'sa shout over the turmoil.

 

"I have no idea." Skechid said grimly as another twine shot at him and disintegrated into smoke and ash.

 

"Are the Forsaken free?" Jae'sa waved his hand and the window filled up with Air blocking any remaining twines.

 

"I doubt so." Skechid stared silently at the wriggling twines from beyond the window. Peering outside he could see chaos as all manners of trees and plants turned wild. "We better head out. Tie off the weave like I taught you."

 

Jae'sa nodded. "Someday someone's going to ask me how I know all these weaves and I will be hard pressed not to point my finger at you. Hardly the skill Soldiers have." His hands wriggled in the air as habit had him do. At least that had not come from Skechid.

 

"Burn them, man. I have no time to play games. The Last Battle draws close if this indicates anything. I would rather have skilled individuals around me than obedient fools who only know how to limit themselves. Quickly now, Jae'sa and ready Severing weaves. The Dark One and his Forsaken may be bound at Shayol Ghul, but I could be wrong. Get ready to draw at anything and stay with me. I'll lead."

 

Both men ran out of the room and into the chaos around the Black Tower. Skechid began hearing screams from the distance.

[Guest Dalinar]

Dalinar was thankful that the night staff in the Infirmary had already begun evacuating its walls. In truth, its walls were no longer exactly that, as the entire Infirmary was made out of wood. An oversight, Dali supposed, but not that one could have expected... this to happen.

 

He lost himself in the chaos inside the Infirmary quickly, and realised that it was not even set out the way it was supposed to be. Some walls seemed to have shifted. Corridors that should have been there were not. Rooms that were once open and easily accessible were closed off and sealed.

 

With a lurch, the floorboards under his feet buckled and whipped high into the air, dangerously close to striking him in the face. They twisted and somersaulted frantically through the air like an acrobat gone mad, and then hovered for a moment at the peak of their flight before diving earthwards with deadly intent. Dalinar threw himself against a wall to avoid them, which inconveniently gave way and shifted behind him. Staggering, he fell backwards onto his bottom in an unceremonious heap.

 

Cursing, he wondered if he'd ever used this much foul language in a month, Dalinar picked himself up quickly. Reaching out tentatively with the Power, he looked for the set Wardings that he had constructed around the small stash he kept here in the Infirmary.

 

Finding them quickly, he raced off in their direction. Thick threads of Fire cleared his way as he trampled through the debris. Finally, he found the compartment he sought, stationed in a wall that seemed ready to shift and move again. Channeling quickly he unlocked the Wards he had set and reached into the panelled wall, pulling free a small navy blue pouch tied with black cord.

 

Relieved that he had managed to find the treasure, he set off through the halls again. The Infirmary seemed to lurch and heave around him like a Sea Folk raker on a storm ocean. Thick heavy smoke was starting to fall with deadly intent, curling down the sides of the room in a silent and potent cascade of poison.

 

Turning a corner, he was confronted with the horrific scene of a middle-aged man wearing the Dedicated pin on his collar trapped underneath several heavy beams of wood. Blood was already oozing from his wounds and he was dreadfully, dreadfully pale.

 

Dalinar knelt by the man's side and place his palms on the side of Jerard's face. Jerard. He had an amazing way with Healing, though his livelihood before coming to the Tower had been butchering. A way with Healing that may have exceeded even Skechid and Dali's own abilities. But already his life was ebbing away from him with every rapid, shallow and painful breath. Dali might have been able to save him, but for the time it would take to clear the beams of wood off his body. By then it would be too late.

 

"I will tell your wife, Jerard," was all the M'Hael could think to say, conscious even with the impartiality of the Flame and the Void of the lack of emotion in his voice. "The last embrace of the mother carry you home."

 

He closed the man's eyes, gently. He hoped the body would be there after this madness was over.

 

As he rose, the madness closed in however. Four walls crumped and buckled and splintered their way in closer around him. No doors. No windows.

 

As Dali begin to untie the knot on the pouch he had secured minutes before, the walls drew closer. Skeins of Spirit whisked through to the boundaries of the Infirmary, and he breathed out heavily. Noone else was left inside. Noone alive at least.

 

The knot resisted his fumbling fingers, and he growled under his breath. Finally, as the walls drew close enough - moving walls, am I truly gone mad already? - that he could reach his arms to either side and brush them with his fingertips, the knot loosened and came free. He upended the bag, and its contents spilled into his free hand.

 

The odd stone figurine was always cool to touch, and it rested now cool, calm, collected in the middle of his palm. It brought him peace, somehow, looking at the man kneeling down with a long staff resting across his knees, his head bent forward as if in solemn contemplation of something unseen. Dalinar wondered if he could ever look so regal, so dignified and so proud as this simple, humble man. He stroked the figure's back, his eyes marvelling at the beauty and craftsmanship that had gone into its creation. If not for it being of odd, mat polished blue and white stone, it would have seemed almost lifelike.

 

Saidin filled him already, but now with the figurine in his hand, drawing on the True Source through the miniature pilgrim, the amount of the Power he wielded increased manifold. Only a splash of water from that flood flattened the walls around him. Carefully, he walked over them and into the night air again.

 

He directed the night staff around the Infirmary to the care of their patients and then hurried off into the night. For now, at least, the Infirmary lay dormant with no prey in its belly to feed on.

 

Dalinarius Traachanshield,

M'Hael.

 

OOC: Change in plans, I don't think I'll start a new thread, let's just continue with this one. We can start to fight back in a more concerted way now. 2.5 days down, so post post post! ;)

[Wayward_fool]

Skechid's fingers touched the man's forehead and sighing he closed the glazed eyes. His Talent with Healing could not Heal death. And sometimes it was only a bare few seconds too late, but the barrier was already too far to cross. His muttered prayer was lost as another gust of wind blew through the corridor.

 

"What in Light's happening?" Skechid turned to the man beside him who had spoken. Jae'sa's face was a mask of ice but his twitching fingers betrayed his nervousness.

 

"I believe it's a bubble of evil. Not unheard of. But I'm surprised the Barracks would be this vulnerable. I see no source of evil, and this is far too random to be the One Power. I believe, yes, it must be." Skechid brushed his hand along the walls of the corridor. He had emptied most of the Barracks, forcing Ashaman, Soldiers and Dedicated alike out into the night. Around him a circle of incandescence protected him. "Move, Jae'sa, we may have more to save."

 

"Indeed." The other man muttered.

 

Both men moved cautiously through the warped doorway and ignored most of the chaos around them.

 

"The M'hael." Jae'sa muttered and lowered his eyes. They had rounded a corner and come face to face with the Leader of the Black Tower.

 

Skechid looked at Dalinarius cooly. He had not seen the man for a long time. Not since he left the Black Tower many moons ago. In fact other than the occasional mention of him by the Infirmary staff, Skechid had hardly thought of the leader of the Black Tower. But now he stood in front of the man.

 

"I see you returned, Skechid." Dalinarius said silently.

 

Skechid's eyes drifted to the figurine held by the man. An angreal. Already one of the strongest in the Tower and yet his hand held an angreal. Worrying. Skechid saluted fist to heart. "I have indeed. And I would love to stay and chat except-" He hardly finished his sentence when a chunk of the wall broke off and slid between the two of them.

 

Fire and Air chipped at the wall, but as Skechid danced backwards a circle of darkness opened at the wall. With horror he watched something grab Jae'sa and pull him in.

 

"Jae'sa!" Skechid screamed before night took the man. Fire and Spirit. "Light burn you! Show yourself!" But the flames hardly illuminated the darkness beyond.

 

Then the circle closed and there was silence.

[Muirenn]

Serge was sitting in a field, leaning against a tree, his lover's head in his lap. He played with the brown curls, twining them around his fingers. There couldn't be a more perfect day. He sighed, contented, as he caressed his lover's face and looked down. And saw to his horror that it was Marden's face.

 

He started awake, and Marden's face was over him again, shaking him. His face flushed in embarrassment, as though the weaponsmaster could read his thoughts. Distantly, he hear the alarm call. Then, it was as though hearing made it so and all around was chaos. The walls seemed to be closing in, and the doorway leading to the rest of the house was quickly being filled in with vines. In short, they were trapped. Serge lashed out instinctively, the void coming instantly in such a situation. For months he had only been able to channel when attacked. And some part of him did not forget. It had only been when he had tried consciously not to kill Marden, his teacher, that he had been able to break that block. But he had no such hesitation now. Fire and Earth smashed into the opposite wall, causing it to explode outwards.

 

The bits of wood did not fall as would be expected, but rather whipped about in the air. Serge lashed out with Spirit, as he saw Marden attacking them with his sword. Normally, dead things such as wood had no living spark to be affected with Spirit, it seemed things were different tonight. As his weave hit the bits suspended in the air they fell, lifeless once more. But for how long? Panting from the effort, Serge paused, making eye contact with Marden before the two heard a scream in the night. Serge nodded that he was ready, and set off to help in whatever way he could.

 

-Serge Karminov

Dedicated

[Guest Faile1987]

Ged was running for his life. His lungs were burning and his heart was beating in his chest as if about to explode in the next second. He knew he woudn´t be able to keep up this speed much longer. Already now his legs were burning with pain and his knees wanted to buckle under his weight. Still he knew he had to run on. He had to get away, far away. Run! Run! But where? That was of no account right now. Despite being aware that he wasn´t fit to keep up with this, Ged broke into a dead run, tears running down his cheeks, his eyes watering by the cold night air hitting his face. Yet it wasn´t only the air that made him cry. He was desperate and part of him just wanted to lie down and die that very instant, but he knew he couldn´t. He had to go on no matter what. Still what was he running from? Was there any escape at all? Looking behind himself frantically, Ged only recognized darkness, black as pitch. Darkness, still he knew very well what he wasw running from. As well as he knew that it would take every chance it would get to take hold of him and then it was over. He was lost.

 

But Ged knew that what followed him would always hunt him, always haunt him. It would never lose track of him, no matter how hard he tried. His past stuck on him like his sweat-soaked black coat was sticking to his sweat-covered skin. He knew it was futile to try and escape from the images of his past hunting for him, but still panic sourged through him and Ged couldn´t help himself. He had to run on and on and on, untill he suddenly lost the ground under his feet and fell. A rasped cry of anguish and disbelief dying in his throat, Ged felt the sensation of flying through the air. Falling like a rock. Yet what lay under him wasn´t solid ground. What lay under him was a hell of fire, lounging flames licking at his legs, deep inside the red inferno the pained and screaming faces of everyone he had known in his past looking up to him, their eyes open in an accusing stare, mouths open in a silent cry of misery and pain, ready to embrace him, to swallow him...AWAKE!!

 

With a cry of terror and his heart beating like a drum, Ged jerked awake and found himself right in between a cluster of swords and half-moon-blades of long-handled axes. Light! He had fallen asleep right in his first chore! He couldn´t believe it, but here he was, this was evidently the armoury he had been assigned to tidy up and clean by Dalinar, but he had never expected he would actually be able to fall asleep when polishing all those countless blades and weapons. Light! He had though and there was no denial as there was still more than half of the work left to be done by him and the cloth and oil all lying nearby.

 

And yet, Ged only paid little mind to his remaining work, as he still was too absorbed into that "dream" he had just been having. What he had seen was stil keeping a tight grip on him and Ged knew he wouldn´t be able to shake those images off for a while. All that fire, screams and accusing stares at him had been so real and it pained him a lot to actually know that there were nothing but true. After all it had been for him that all those men and Light! his mother, his mother! had been killed by his own hands, by the curse running through his veins! Ged was aware that those nightmares would always haunt him as long as he lived and he knew he hadn´t deserved any better, yet they only seemed to get worse and worse by each time he had one of those nightmares, which basically was everytime he closed his eyes to sleep. Yes, it was inevitable and he had to pay and acknowledged the fact that they would never completely leave him as his memory would never leave him as well, but Light what he would give for the bliss of at least a little temporary oblivion...

 

Gritting his teeth and shaking his head angrily as though to shake off all those bleak thoughts, Ged rose to his feet, his legs cramped of the uncomfortable position he had fallen asleep in, but still Ged knew he couldn´t afford indulging in his own misery any longer now. What had to be done, had to be done and there was nothing left to it but doing his best and so he would.

Still staggering a little, his muscles still not completely able to carry his weight without difficulty, Ged all of a sudden recalled what had jerked him awake like that.

 

Awake!!, the call still vibrated in his skull. A call of utmost urgency and full of alarm and surprise. Looking around wildly for any opponent to come, Ged let out a sigh of relief when everything stayed quiet and nothing seemed to move at all. Relieved and reassured while questioning himself if he really had heard what he thought he had heard or if it had merely been another illusion, Ged was about to go back to his work, when he suddenly heard something creak and knarl in the shelves and cupboards where the armor and weapons were laid on or hung up all in order.

Only that there wasn´t the slightest hint of any order any more. Had he just thought that everything was all right and he didn´t need to worry about anything but his dreams and painful memories, Ged now realized how gravely mistaken he was.

 

As if an intricate web of puppets´strings were tied to them, all the weapons and parts of armor being neatly stored in shelves and cupboards before, suddenly seemed to have sprang to life and where flying out of their places, sourging wildly through the little room of the armoury, slashing and hacking at Ged wildly. "Light!", he exclaimed and wihtout thinking he reached out for Saidin and slammed a shield of spirit and air between himself and a dozen swords soaring through midair, aiming right at his chest and could prevent being cut to pieces only in the very last instsnt.

 

But as if suddenly provoked by his weave, weapons seemed to shoot at him from every side now and being unable to create a shield tht would protect him without any gap leaving one or more vital parts of him exposed to the strikes and slashes of metal, wood and blades lounging for him in wild disarray and as if spellbound, Ged soon was bleeding from a dozen cuts and slashes, none of them major, but one across his right shoulder where an arrowhead was still sticking in him, very nearly disabling his right arm from being able to be moved at all.

Biting back the stinging pain all over his body, trying to keep his emerald eyes open everywhere at once, Ged jumped, dodged and leapt, struck out with the One Power, blocked steel soaring at him in dead speed, defending, attacking, trying to get away, but he had no chance. He couldn´t find an explanation for it, but the weapons seemed to have come to live against all odds and now were obviously atttempting to take his in return. Frantically struggling and fighting back, Ged soon was drenched in sweat, staggering and toppling out of phyical exhaustion and because of his injuries and in a frenzy tried to find a way out of this madness. His reflexes slowed down inevitably though and he knew he soon wouldn´t be able to resist at all and knowing that filled him with a fury that let him summon the last bit of strength left in him. And for an instant it seemed that he would find a way to manage to get enough time to find a way out of this. But that very moment a loud rumble filled the armoury as the shelves and cupboards on the walls lost their hold and toppled down on Ged who was too perplex and startled to react and was buried under the load of amor, iron and wood crashing down on him. Crying out, he felt something hard hit the back of his head and tasted blood in his mouth as the world seemed to explode in pain, but then a merciful veil of blackness covered anything and the last thing Ged saw before he floated into nothingness was his maother´s face smiling at him warmly in welcome.

 

OOC: He isn´t dead, only gravely injured and either someone of you comes and gets him or I´ll have to get him out of this by myself...

[Death Incarnate]

Drenn was running past the armory when he heard some noises and felt Saidin being channeleld inside strongly. Suddenly it winked out and Drenn felt the unatural shake go through the ground. Weaving fire and spirit as strongly as he ever had he bored a hole right through the walls and leapt inside. Looking around frantically he saw a pile of debris on the floor and with a breif weave of spirit sensed a man trapped underneath. His life was fading and there was no time to lose. As he had done earlier with the Ash he settled a weave of air over top of the body and it pulsed. Barely getting a smaller wall of air infront of him in time to stop the debris from hitting him he nearly fell over with exhaustion. He wasn't as strong with air as he was with the other elements and he had been using it alot tonight. Finally it was begining to take its toll. Seeing the boy on the floor though he spurred himself forward to do what he could. Breifly checking him over both visually and with spirit he determined that it would be safer to carry him to help then wait for it to come. Scooping him up he rushed out of the building and headed for the infirmary. Please light let it still be there.

 

Rounding the last cornor he felt his hopes fade the infirmary was lying in ruins and he arrived just intime to see someone get sucking through a black hole in a wall. His heart lightened somewhat to see that a majority of the infirmaries inhabitants had made it out safely and that Dalinar was with them.

 

"M'Hael! This kid needs healing. He's fading quickly." Laying the boy on the ground he stepped bacvk and took a knee. Breathing heavily he watched their suroundings, his hand twitching towards the sword hilt sticking out of his cloak.

[Guest Faile1987]

Blackness was covering everything and blocking out anything going on around him and Ged´s body seemed to float on invisible weaves of nothingness. Yet they seemed strong enough not only to carry the weight of his limp body as if he were light as a feather, but also seemed to tug at him, pull at him, suck him into even deeper blackness, drawing him in attempting to devour him until there would be no shred left of him, nothing to remember, no pain, no misery, no memories at all. Part of him wanted to leap at this chance, to give in to the bodiless force sucking him in, all too wiling to render himsel to the sweet temptation of the torrent, promising salvation, oblivion, death...No matter what happened to him, as long as he forgot what he didn´t want to remember...

 

"Come with me, Ged", his mother´s voice whispered in his ear. "You´ll be at a place where there is no pain, no memory, no duty, only light and happiness. Your sins will be forgiven, just come with me and see." Looking at his mother´s familiar face. Smiling warmly, her eyes looking down at him with loving care as they always had, he felt tears sting his eyes, feeling deeply moved by the sheer possibility of seeing her again. Light! How much he wanted just to follow her, how much he wanted to leave this world behing him and just go. But there was some other thing also tugging at him as did the torrent of blackness before, the two of them fighting for him, one being as persistent as the other...

 

Moaning softly, Ged´s eyes suddenly fluttered open and he had to squint despite the darkness he was finding himself in. Still he wasn´t where he supposed to be, he knew. This wasn´t the place he had just been. He felt solid ground under him, not the weightless waves of blackness carrying him any more. There was something different. Something was wrong and trying so stirr and lift his head, Ged felt a trembling shudder take hold of him as a lightning pain shot througgh his head and groaning, he sacked back to the ground again.

 

"Mother?! Where...I am sorry...I...I will come...wait...wait for me...", he mumbled drowsily, his tongue feeling suddenly too heavy in his mouth to be moved any more. Frantically trying to take hold of something whatever it might be, Ged tried to lift his right arm as if to reach out snd take hold of the fading image of his beloved dead mother, but as fast as it eluded him causing him to cry out softly, too weak to do anything, the faint grip he had retained on reality seemed to elude from him as well and once again the tug of darkness seemed to gather around him and took him away once more, leaving him unable to even realize what was happening to him as he lost consciousness again, his body going limp once more.

[jasonr]

Noy ran aimlessly until he saw the infermary. There he saw Drenn lay down a man who was injured to the point of near death. His heart gave a jump when he saw that it was Ged.

 

Noy rushed over to him and asked, "What in the Light happened to him?" He wfell silent as Ged onpened his eyes and began talking. "Mother?! Where...I am sorry...I...I will come...wait...wait for me..."

 

"Don't worry, Ged, she'll wait for you. Right now you need to rest though, you will be alright soon." Noy cast a worried glance around, Ged didn't easily give up, what in the world could have done this to him? It must have been one of the objects given life.

 

When he spoke it was nearly a whisper, "What happened?" Noy wanted answers and he wanted them fast.

[Wayfarer]

Having picked up a second sword from the ground as they made their way, Marden was wielding both at once around him to ward off what came for him and Serge, even as Serge lashed about them with fire and air. Nothing was right with the world, and Marden found himself wondering if he had truly gone insane. Yet there was no choice but to treat what was around him as real, if he couldn't trust his own senses then he could trust nothing.

 

Yet his senses told a tall tale. One of the cottages had tried to crush them against another, and if it hadn't been for Serge, Marden would have been paste. The dogs that lived in the Tower were driven mad by the frenzy about them and were attacking any who came close. Those Marden cut down even as they moved on. They ha-

 

"Creator's beard..."

 

They had made it to the wall, and along the top they could see vines clawing away at the wall. Where were the sentries? Making their way up the nearby stairs, the sight that confronted them as he hacked at the vines even as Serge smote them with flame was horrifying. The forest had come to the Farm! Trees below rammed at the wall, while vines that were bonded to the trees either flailed the walls or tried to rip off the crenels. Pieces of the wall already lay at the foot of the wall, chunks that had been ripped away from the top.

 

Or had been until the pair had made it to the wall, now the vines tried to snag them, pull them over. Having positioned themselves near the guardhouse, Marden guarded Serge's left side while to Serge's right the guardhouse on the wall lay. Using the advantage, Serge swept at the vines and trees with fire. It was wor-

 

"Watch out!" Shoulder barging Serge through the door into the guardhouse, the wall blowing inwards and him with it. Driven back by the flames and steel, the vines had started taking the chunks they had already ripped clear and were decimating the wall with them.

 

Sailing through the air with the debris, his blades fell free from his fingers. Hitting the ground on his hip, there was an audible crack as he bounced, flipping over onto his otherside and rolling until he came to a halt.

 

Vertigo.

 

 

Marden Veniso

Black Tower

 

OOC: Something for those who don't want to be underfoot at the Traitor's Tree :)

[Guest Estel]

ooc: I'm going to say this is before the RP with Agy and Marak...I can edit if I'm wrong...

 

ic:

If not for the Power running through him, Isha would have had to cling to Blood's saddle to stay upright. He had just spent the better part of a day and a half chasing a Fade through the Blight. He had had no sleep and faught many other battles before eventually deheading the Eyeless.

 

Many-a Trolloc had he faught since he had last slept, and all he wanted to do now was collapse into bed and sleep- if he made it that far.

 

Finally, the platform upon which he stood stopped, or at least he knew it had stopped, though he didn't know how he knew. He just did. Opening a gateway back into the Travelling Grounds, he had to hit the ground hard, to avoid an enormous oak tree from attempting to crush him.

 

The great oak slammed into the ground where Blood stood and there was a sickening crunching noise as the weary stallion's life was ended even after surviving another trip to the Blight. The tree's trunk was bent in the most abnormal way, much like a human bent at the waist. On its own accord, the tree brought itself back up to its normal hieght, ready to strike again at Isha.

 

Before it was halfway to the ground, Isha threw a wall of Fire at it, weaving quickly a dome of Air to protect himself from the flying debris. Unfortunatly, one cannot breath while inside a compeltly closed off dome and a minute later the bulky Attack Leader emerged, coughing and gasping for air before choking on the smoke and bits of charred vegetation floating in the air.

 

He did not glance at the remains of his former steed, now charred and broken beyond recognition. Instead, he drew his sword, slashing at vines seeking the wrap themselves around his throat or knock him from his feet. His leaped and slasshes roots that tried in vain to snare him but he would not have survived long if not for the constant wall of Fire he threw at trees which came crashing down to the ground after him.

 

Within the Void, he could not feel the wounds he had sustained during his campaign in the Blight rip and open, neither could he feel the slash across his left arm, so deep he could have put his finger up to the first digit into it. He was another person- no, he was not a person, a person felt exhaustion and pain- he was another being controlling the exhausted, protesting limbs of the battle weary black coated man.

 

Through the forest he fought, barely escaping with his life. Arriving in the midst of the Farm itself, he found the conditions no better. The shock he felt at seeing the Farm revolt against its inhabitant nearly cost him the Void, and it did cost him a chunk of his right shoulder.

 

He had been too shocked to notice the decapitated head attack him from behind, tearing through his black coat to tear flesh from his shoulder. Instinctively, he spun, his left fist crushing through the gory head, sending it flying.

 

Yet still the head came. Its nose, unrecognizable for what it was, had been smashed to a bloody pulp, and it seemed that the upper teeth had bitten through the upper lip, leaving the flap of skin hanging off the mutilated head. Speeding towards him, he chopped it in two with a razor of Air.

 

But still, the very earth revolted against the very men who had the Power to control it. A sudden thought struck Isha: was he doing this? Was this only in his mind? 'Am I mad already? What if I just crushed the head of one of my brothers her in black? What if only I can see the Farm attacking us?' Almost immediately a voice echoed in his head. ~You are mad.~

 

It took his entire self-discipline to cling to the Void and he was ignorant of the sudden quaking of the earth that knocked him to the ground. Where had that voice come from? It had not been his! Where his voice was a deep bass, the pitch of that voice had been higher, and richer; almost musical.

 

This time, another head took a chunk from his left calf and before it could escape it was crushed by his treetrunk of a right leg. Sometimes it was good to be abnormally huge.

 

Barely making it to his feet, he stumbled, looking for someone to watch his back. His arms weren't in well enough shape to wield his sword, and he wasn't quick enough with the injury to his left leg to dodge everything. Again he cursed the luck that had made him so weak in the Power.

 

After desperate minutes of fierce fighting, Isha heard the distictive sound of metal hitting wood. Moving towards the scource of the sound, he was far enough away that the guardhouse door didn't knock him backwards.

 

Mardan came flying out and it was all Isha could do to stumble over to the former Asha'man's writhing body and protect it from rebelling plant-life.

[TheWitchKing]

Brand ducked and peeled away from the branch's of a large, but now very active tree. He was starting to get anoyed by the persistant attacks, and an anoyed Brand is not a pretty thing to see. Face flushed and anger just about to bust, Brand quickly used his favorit weave and turned the ground around the tree into quicksand and another weave to bring up a large pilar of earth to beat the tree down. The tree slowly sank, its deep roots holding on and it thrashed about. A vein was pumping in Brand's forhead and his right eyebrow twiched. This was a persistant foe that did not like to go down easy. He had used every move and trick in his book to incapasitate the great tree and not to obliterate the surrounding in the process, but this was too much. Suddenly a massive pillar of fire exploded around the tree and it was emediatly turned into a bonfire, its branch's burning madly. With out realising it, Brand had started weaving and soon the ground that had been quicksand had melted and was replaced by a gurgeling mass of laval.

 

Brand could almost here the tree shreack as it's base was turned to ash's and it topled over, not to move again. Panting, Brand grinned, one down, a forest left to try and kill him.

 

Turning, he spotted Covai and joged up to him, just as he was about to releace his weave on the tree. Quickly he wove and ropes of earth shot up from the ground and wraped them selves around the Traitor's Tree's limbs. The tree was strugeling to move and was a much easier target. Throught panting and his demonic grin, Brand called to Covai. "Fire away!"

[Guest Dalinar]

Running into Skechid had been yet another surprise in the night. Well, not a surprise in truth, he had been notified that the Tower's Spymaster had returned but had not as yet had opportunity to spend appropriate time with him. And besides, there was very little that could come as a surprise to him now, wrapped in the Flame and Void, and blanketed in saidin as he was.

 

He saw the one time High Seat's eyes drift to the angreal in his hands. For someone who played the Great Game as well as he claimed, Skechid was at times incredibly lacking in subtlety. Or perhaps that was his intention. The Game was not something that Dalinar had ever really appreciated to any extent. The man's eyes weighed and measured with that casual glance, and Dalinar wondered what it was that they were thinking. Did the Spymaster covet the figurine for himself? Or was he afraid of what Dalinar might use it for? What would he use it for if he could get his hands on it?

 

Dalinar scowled inwardly, dashing away the thoughts. Once, he had felt close to Skechid, and once such thoughts would never have entered his head. He felt slightly ashamed.

 

As Skechid began a reply to his greeting, when a grating screech thrust a section of wall between them. Holding the Power as he was, Dalinar felt a certain intangible wrongness about that piece of wall, a wrongness that was born of its absolute... nothingness. It was like it, or the space it occupied, didn't really exist.

 

He heard Skechid yell out from beyond the barrier, a muffled and distant sounding, "Jae'sa!", followed by a harsh exclamation.

 

Tentative probes of Spirit explored the barrier and beyond. The barrier seemed to twist and distort the threads, and he had to try three times before he found a way around it to the other side. A vibrant resonance along the threads clued him into Skechid's survival of whatever had happened, but his companion was not to be felt. Whatever that wall was, or had become, it wasn't right, and Dali was loathe to try and make a way through it to the other side.

 

Instead, he called out. "You'll have to go around, Skechid. We can mourn for those we've lost tonight when this madness is over. If we last long enough to mourn."

 

He found his way once again into the night air. The air crackled with the weavings of not just a few, but now several hundred Asha'man. More joined the fray with each passing minute. About to head off into the darkness, he was caught by a call from a man hurrying towards him carrying a dead weight man in his arms. "M'Hael!"

 

The man laid the form in his arms on the ground. Dalinar knelt next to him and wove skilfully in a quick Delving. The casualty was fading fast, breathing shallow and rapid and pulse faint and fast. Dalinar had to act quickly to fend off death. This was a battle that he could fight, and one he was confident he could win.

 

A web of all Five Powers was woven within moments, a flickering a flows that almost no other in the Tower would have been able to follow without time and concentration aiding their study. It was instinct, as much as the findings of the Delving, that guided his Healing - a Healing that had not been used until recently for nearly three thousand years.

 

The man spasmed once, his back arching slightly and his heels and elbows digging into the ground, and then came to rest as the flows sunk into him. It was cleaner than traditional Healing, and far more efficient. The man would suffer relatively little hunger and fatigue as a result of the ordeal, and for all intents and purposes his wounds had never been. Even with the angreal in hand, however, the M'Hael sagged minimally. Putting a free hand on his knee, he pushed himself up into standing. Reaching down with the same hand, he lifted the new man to his feet. "You two, stick together. Watch each others backs. Remember you are Brothers." And without a word he was off into the night.

 

Light, would the madness ever end? He wondered if the walls would hold or if already the forest had found its way into the Farms outskirts and was wreaking similar havoc there. His legs, starting to ache slightly with fatigue, set him off at a steady trot.

 

Dalinarius Traachanshield,

M'Hael.

 

OOC: Only a day or so to go now, folks. We can START to wind things down slowly. I don't really mind what ends the whole scenario - perhaps taking down the Traitor's Tree, or perhaps dawn coming, or perhaps both... or anything else if anyone has a suggestion...

 

Cheers!

Dali/Ben.

[Guest Faile1987]

Everything around Ged seemed to flicker suddenly. Opening his eyes, the images of a man´s face he didn´t know started to twirl in front of his eyes only to be replaced by Noy´s worried expression. How had he come here and what had happened withe the flying weapons? Light, he had to warn his friend but already it was too late and darkness was sucking him in again, the last thing he spotted was another dark-clad shape approaching hurriedly, bending over him. a man he knew but couldn´t find himself abe to attach a name to right now.

 

Blackness closing around him once more, Ged woke up in a kind of wasteland, eye in eye with the hugest raven he had ever seen. Horrified and unable to move he realised the big bird was sitting right on his forehead, its claws imprinting themselves in his skin and making him wince involuntarily. His green eyes widened in shock as he noticed the black eyes looking down on him mercilessly and the huge black beak of the beast coming closer and closer, about to plunge itself into his right eye. With a cry Ged started and struggled to get away from the monstrous animal but all of a sudden his body contorted and trembled as if a fist of ice was clutching his heart and squeezing tight.

 

With a gasp Ged´s eyes popped open and his body spasmed once more until he sank down to the ground again as if all the cramping and contraction was suddenly taken from him. When his vision cleared though, he recognized the man holding him as the M´Hael. Starting and attempting a respectful salute despite not knowing at all what had happened, Ged´s hand sagged back as his entire body seemed to refuse to serve for now, strength only returning to him in slow motion. Blinking idiotically, Ged tried to clear his thoughts when he was helped to his feet by Dalinar, suddenly noticing with a faint sense of horror, that even he was weary too and heard the M`Hael speak, determination and a sense of order clearly showing in his voice; "You two, stick together. Watch each others backs. Remember you are Brothers."

 

His legs still feeling like buckling every moment, Ged still managed to stand at least halfway straight as he looked over to Dalinar and Noy who was looking at him, relief clearly showing on his face. Shaking his head as if to clear it of the muzzy thoughts fillng it, Ged immediately regretted the quick motion since everything around him started to waver with that again, but keeping his balance, he nodded, slowly this time and cleared his throat to speak. "We will do that, M`Hael. Be assured."

 

Turning to Noy, as the M´Hael disappeared, green eyes meeting dark ones, Ged raised a questioning eyebrow, confusion clearly visible on his face as he aksed his friend hoarsely: "What happened, Noy? The weapons just went wild and...Light! The whold armoury came to life and-" Ged cut off abruptly as he heard men crying out in rage and surprise. Starting, Ged had to hold on to a nearby tree not to fall down again. Cursing his current weakness, Ged clenched his teeth and fed it to the void, alongside with all other emotions. He would have to care about his physical means later, now they had to do something to deal with matters at hand.

[Wayward_fool]

The cool night air closed over Skechid like a welcomed friend. His skin felt clammy, and indeed sweat coated his every pore. No time for care. His hand came up and a Fireball lit a twine that had tried to creep up on him. His face remained impassive as wood turned to ash and then to nothing.

 

"We can mourn for those we've lost tonight when this madness is over. If we last long enough to mourn." The words rang in his ear. But he wanted to laugh. Light, but he did.

 

Dalinar, if you only knew what I knew. In truth Skechid felt no sadness. People died around a Healer, or at least some die anyway. Too late or too soon, it didn't matter. But Jae'sa had so many secrets that Skechid had kept him closest of them all. Too many were out in the world with their work. A Spymaster's work was never done. But Jae'sa's secrets had been the worse.

 

The man had been skilled beyond even some of the former Storm Leaders. And Skechid's hopes that he would make an assistant of the man had been high. But then again, some people were too dangerous to keep near. And now, the man was gone. As with his secrets. Well, maybe only those Skechid kept to himself. Perhaps it was time to give in. Holding up his hands palm up he wove the weave Jas'sa had taught him. Instantly without knowing how, he knew every single secret document in his room would have combusted without trace. Not with Fire, but with Spirit.

 

Infuriating. Skechid never managed to understand how the man discovered weaves. But now, he had no time. He ran forward to the gathering of Ashaman in the distance. He spied Dali amongst the Soldiers. Foolishness. He could tell Dalinar had been suspicious. And somehow he knew now, things were far different than they had been before. People change. No time for foolishness.

 

Skechid walked up towards the M'haal and touched his arm briefly. "What do you expect of this, Dalinar. The world turns mad, but surely the Black Tower cannot fall." His eyes spotted Andar and Covai. Two others who had been Storm Leaders with Skechid. Agulot and Ragnar in a distance as well. Former Attack Leaders, who had also lost their ranks from absence. When the new assume command, the old lose theirs. They had pulled Dramon down anyway and raised Dalinarius in his stead. How many of the Council still stand in his good books? But each remained dangerous in his own ways anyway. What do we do now, Dalinar?

[Andar]

The Black Tower had gone mad, all around him saidin was being wielded in massive amounts. Andar wandered the grounds of the tower. On several occasions he was accosted by living trees or even buildings. They were gone now, but he had been wounded several more times and was not in a good way.

 

Eventually he came to the training ground. It was like hell on earth. Most of the tower had gathered there and a battle was raging. The enemy was the traitors tree. It had come to life and around it lay several black coated bodies, slain by the tree or the animated heads of their former brothers.

 

Andar staggered over towards the group. His left arm, badly broken swung obsenely as he walked, the pain from it starting to threaten his hold on the one power. Dali was there, as were the newly returned Skechid, and several others of his friends. At least they were still alive.

 

"What goes on here Dali?" He managed to gasp out.

"Has the world gone mad. I was nearly killed by my rose bush, and I was forced to blow up my house. I really bloody liked that house.."

 

Andar

Asha'man