Lessons in the Dream (Attn: Tig)

[The Don]

Peaten stood in his version of the Tower of the Black Dawn. It was his place here in this world. Few beyond the Chosen and the Great Lord of the Dark himself knew how and where to find him. Use of Peaten al'Kar's services were beyond the means of mere mortals. He was the Great Lord's blade. Once he was the greatest weaponmaster the Shadow had known since the Age of Legends, and one of the great assassins in the entire world. Now he was something more. An unstoppable assassin, with gifts given to him from the Great Lord that bordered on superhuman. Sometimes he wondered if he was still considered "mere mortal". He most assuredly could be killed, he didn't doubt that, but here in the World of dreams he could go on living forever. Was he now on the same level as one of the Chosen? Here in his world, he could do nearly as much as some of the less adept of them, which by their standards were still much higher that almost anyone living now. The Great Lord had shown him favor above all others besides them, the fact that he was here at this moment proved that.

 

He shook the idea out of his mind almost as soon as he had thought it. He was nowhere near the Chosen; in power, skill or favor. Pride was his great downfall while he was a man. Having no rival in the Shadow had him desperate for a challenge. He had reached a level of martial mastery, he was even then able to seperate body and mind and enter the World of Dreams, if only briefly. As Master of the Shar Mahdi Order, he took the most difficult tasks, unheard of in the Order. His predecessors grew lazy and comfortable in their position. Peaten had taken missions against blademasters, the Fortress of Light, even the White Tower itself to test himself. In those missions, they were more duels than assassinations. Finally the day came when he met up with the very best in the world. Had Peaten been an average Blood Seeker, he would have snuck in at night and killed the man in his sleep. He would be dead right now, and Peaten alive. He could not pass up the challenge though. He dueled him fair and square, in broad daylight. Looking back on it, it was a dance of pure beauty. The controled rage of Peaten al'Kar against the complete focus of Ben-T Gaidin. It was hard for Peaten to imagine ever in all of history when the two greatest warriors in all the world faced off against each other in mortal combat, their styles so different, yet that was its beauty. Peaten lost the duel, at the very last second, with the cold steel still in his chest, Peaten escaped into Tel'aran'rhoid. He was a fading shadow, even then, until he eventually found himself in this world's Pit of Doom, speaking with the Great Lord of the Dark.

 

And here he was, about to teach. No great battles, no infultrations, no duels to the death... he would be teaching a Dreadlord how to walk this place. No matter. At least he was doing something. He had taught before, when he was the Master of Combat. It was his duty to the Shadow. He had learned long ago that he was only a tool. The Great Lord or his Chosen could weild their tool as they wished. The order had come from Moghedien. It was an order he couldn't refuse.

 

Now where was the bloody person?

[Tigara]

Tigara was feeling quite tired. He had worked hard today to make himself exceptionally tired so he could sleep easy. He had never used the serpentine bracelet before, so he wan't sure whether it would put himself to sleep, or whether he had to sleep by his own power. He had led a raid on a small fort near the west side of Sheinar. Those Borderlanders sure know how to fight, but channeling would give oneself a slight advantage. Yes, prisoners were taken and the Trollocs were happy. Well, as happy as Trollocs could be described to be.

 

His quarters were near the center of the Fortress. Why live in those blasted Lightfool lands when you can live in the Blight and have the power to go anywhere at any time. Yes, he often got weaseled into teaching channeling classes or going to get new recruits, but it was an alright setup. Tig entered his quarters and stripped down to his smallclothes and crawled under his heavy cotton sheets. He found the Blight to be cool at night, especially after living in Tarabon for nearly half his life. He embraced the Source and wove Spirit into the eyes of the serpent on his bracelet, then closed his eyes and drifted into a sleep unlike any he had ever experienced. He suddenly found himslef in a copy of the Fortress. It was exactly the same, but a bit blurry and was strangely lit. And quiet, extremely quiet. Moghedien had told him little of what he was to do, but after hunting down M'bela and asking her a few questions, he had a vague idea of how to get to the "Tower of the Black Dawn", whatever that was. He closed his eyes, focused on the tower, and took a step. When his eyes opened, he was a man in front of him. That must be his teacher.

 

"You are to teach me to wlak the dream, yes?"

 

Tigara Kazim

Dreadlord in Moggy's possy