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DRAGONMOUNT

A WHEEL OF TIME COMMUNITY

Answering the Call (Interdiv BT-CotS)


Arath Faringal

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It began as a normal enough day.  Normal for the Black Tower anyway.  The regular rythem of explosions sounding at the training grounds went almost unnoticed by the inhabitants of the Farm as they went about their daily business.  Soldiers carrying various items around on invisible flows of air, the wives of Asha'man carrying their own loads, children running and yelling while they engaged in whatever game came to them at the moment ... the usual pace of life.

 

The silvery rotating slash that appeared in mid air at the traveling grounds also caused little comment as it rotated open, revealing a hole in the air.  What poured out though, was enough to send rumors stirring througout the small city known as the Farm.  Four men in black coats came running out of the gateway, almost before it had finished revolving open.  Bourne between two of them on an invisible platform was a fifth man who bled profusely from a gaping wound in his torso.  Immediately, two of them men bearing golden dragon pins at their collars sped off down the road toward the large hall where the M'Hael resided, while the other two sped off toward the infirmary, bearing the fifth man with them.  None of the onlookers could say for certain where the group had come from, but they all saw the billowing flames and rolling plumes of smoke beyond the gateway, just before it snapped shut.

 

~~~

 

"You do be certain?" said M'Hael Brent Enios after he heard the report of the Asha'man.  He had his back turned to the pair of them, steadying himself on the window sill, and trying to digest this horrible turn of events.

 

"Yes Sir," confirmed Asha'man Daevis Thelandran.  "I come from Shienar myself, and never have I seen such a horde as this.  With the war between the borderlander nations, they can't hope to turn the shadowspawn aside, especially if there were dreadlords among them.  I fear that Shienar will be over run in a matter of days.  Perhaps Arafel as well.  We heard rumors before the attack arrived of major trouble along their blight border as well."

 

Brent grimaced in revulsion.  The recruiting party in the north of Shienar had been fortunate, or unfortunate, enough to be present as the greatest host of shadowspawn since the trolloc wars had descended from the blight.  The five of them had been no match for the sheer numbers that had overwhelmed them.  They had been unable to save anyone, barely escaping with their own lives.  Only moments ago a message had arrived with the news that the injured member of the party had died, unable to survive the rigors of healing.

 

Taking a deep breathe to steady himself, Brent turned back to the Asha'man.  "Bring me the Storm Leaders and Attack Leaders.  We do be needing to plan this out.  And be notifying the Asha'man to assemble at the training grounds in one hour.  The Black Tower do be headed to war."

 

OOC:  Everyone who is coming, post your arrival at the training grounds, share rumors, whatever.  I'll get the next post up in a few days, and then we'll move on to the North boards.  Remember, as per Jocelyn's promise several months ago, anyone who participates up till the bitter end will be awarded a bonus strength point (upon reaching Asha'man rank anyway :D)

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The Black Tower on any given day was like an ant hill that had just been kicked yet today people moved with an extra measure of something else, urgency he thought.  Geirrin had heard the call for them to gather on the training grounds.  Grabbing his black coat and sword belt he sprinted from the barracks to the training ground where the others were forming.

 

It was like the hum of a thousand insect wings beating at the air as everyone speculated on why they had been called to form up.  The rumors were rampant though each had a common theme even if the details were as different as night and day.  The common theme was that Shadowspawn had poured into Shienar from the Blight.  How many or of what variety they did not know for sure.

 

Geirrin buttoned up his coat then strapped on the sword belt as he waited for the Storm and Attack Leaders to arrive and tell them what was going on.  He fingered the hilt wondering if he would ever use the sword that he was forced to train with.  He could easily make one with the power if needed.  He was good at making things yet the sword he carried today was made by a blacksmith here at the Tower.     

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Asha'man Sereth was on his way to the M'Hael's office to make a very personal request, when he saw the gateway rotate open and the four Asha'man dash through the with fifth obviously dying. He made sure to stay out of the way, wondering what this would mean for the tower. The plumes of smoke rolling through that gateway couldn't be a good sign.

 

Having seen this, it was no surprise when the call was sent out to gather at the traveling grounds. He marched with a heavy heart, and not for the first time wishing that he could have simply been a wilder, trained to channel by his teacher. At least then, he'd never have to go to battle, he'd never have to kill.

 

Still, new experiences were new lessons. He repeated that mantra in his head hundreds of times, until he managed to phase out the reality of the situation, partially entering a dream-like state. To further push away the truth, he assumed the void with practiced ease. Locked away like he was, Sereth was calm. He still knew that whatever the leaders of the tower had him do today would forever be burned into his memory, but that was life, and this was all just a new experience for him to pick apart and examine at a later date.

 

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Ikki had been hanging around the Infirmary getting private lessons. Healing interested him. Especially since he had started to ponder over Healing the affects of the Taint. He hadn't been able to tell if it was a plausible idea or not. No one here was able to tell whether it was possible. The channelers here weren't very experienced though, so they wouldn't know anyways. The Aes Sedai might know, but they gentle men too fast for studying that. He would have to study this himself.

 

The door to the infirmary flew open and two Asha'man came in carrying another Asha'man on an Air stretcher. One of the Asha'man turned his head to Ikki and the other Dedicated in the Infirmary. "Gather in the training grounds and be ready for battle." Ikki nodded and hurried off to his rooms to get his sword. He had never killed a man before, so this would certainly be a new experience. He wasn't very sure that his stomach would handle killing anyone.

 

The grounds were already crowding as he got there. He didn't bother looking where he was or where anyone he knew was. He was too busy calming his gittering nerves and making sure he kept breakfast down. Maybe I'll just stay in the back and not kill anything. Yes, good idea....

 

Ikkiliad sur Paendrag

Dedicated

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Martyn had seen enough enemy raids to recognise the sense of alarm that rippled through the grounds. Though he didn't know the details, he knew enough to realise that his sword would be needed, a feeling that was reinforced when rumors of Trollocs and Dreadlords reached him. Though he still couldn't bring himself to channel, he had perhaps the most firsthand experience fighting Shadowspawn out of anyone in the Farm, and his sword was still capable of cutting down a Trolloc or two, he had seen to that over the years. He would be far from defenseless.

 

Assuming the gathering crowd of people were the ones that were going to be sent in to... wherever it was that trouble arose, he stood amongst them, mentally already prepared for battle. It came surprisingly easy, he found, even after half a century, with a small smile, he knew his instructor at the time had been right when he had said that one was never able to truly unlearn something.

 

 

Martyn

Meat shield?

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Aslan was standing in line by the traveling grounds, he had been in to visit the libary, and deliver a batch of herbs to the infarmary, and now he was going back to the citadel. It was somewhat of a surprise seeing someone come through hurt, after a moment of summing himself he looked around after them all and saw they already had covered some distance holding quite some speed. He turned around out of the line and headed back towards the infarmary, there was a time as an intiate he would have wanted to stay away from there by all cost, now he felt oblidged to at least find out what was up and that his help wasnt needed.

 

Back and forth was just as long, he arived, somewhat managed to catch a brief idea of what was ongoing before the summon arived, and asured everything seemed in control by the days infarmary watch he descided to get out of their hair and return back to the travel grounds. It seemed he might not be imidiatly returning to the citadel after all. He sougth to some standing of other Asha'men and setled to wait for more information of ongoings.

 

 

Aslan

Cloud Dancer

& somewhat of a hedge wiz' :P

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OOC: Are we current rank or RPing this as Ashie?

 

Ze'el found himself growing more and more enamored with the One Power. Although most of the weaves taught were destructive, spectacular weaves that were not at all to his liking, with a little bit of creativity he could weave much more subtle offensive weaves. Another thing that he was growing more curious about was the Shadow and the Dark One. In his entire life he had only heard terrible things about the Dark One, and the Black Tower didn't tale any different tales. However, Ze'el was learning that followers of the Light were getting very predictable, and he was curious to learn more about the other side of the war.

 

It was very hard to find information about the shadow. Shadowspawn were easy to learn about, after all they were training to kill shadowspawn. What was impossible to find, however, was the opinions of the dark. Everyone knew that darkfriends served the Dark One, but no one knew why. What rewards could the Dark One offer to his servents? And Ze'el could not afford to inquire about the Shadow openly, for he was under close scruteny by the Attack Leader Arath as it was.

 

He was just in the middle of his research when the call was sounded. Making sure to appear as a loyal soldier, Ze'el made his way to the first group of men he could find. Unfortunately, that group was with Attack Leader Arath, who he disliked, but it was too late to change groups now.

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((OOC: Current Rank ))

 

Geirrin looked at the others forming up then studied the ground.  Rumors of Shadowspawn spilling from the Blight into the Borderlands.  Trollocs, Lurks, and other creatures of the Shadow.  He had never seem one except for artists renditions or when one of the instructors got creative when making a training dummy.  Geirrin shivered involuntarily at the thought. 

 

Geirrin felt the sword at his hip, he hoped it would not come down to that.  If it did then the battle was as good as lost.  He was much better at wielding the power than he was with a blade.  Not like Martyn he thought, he had seen the man wield the sword he carried and it seemed part of him.  Geirrin had made progress but he would never be as good as Martyn.  He just hoped that the man would be able to channel.  As good as anyne could be with a sword it was nothing next to the power of Saidin.  Geirrin wondered if it came down to it if he himself would actually draw the sword or if he would make an elemental blade from Saidin.  It would have to be the latter, if it came to that...

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OOC: Yes, current ranks.

 

IC:  Arath fought to keep his face calm, even enveloped as he was in the void.  The last time he had felt this way, that the atmosphere at the Farm had felt this way, was right before Dumai's Wells.  He kept reviewing what the M'Hael had said in his mind.

 

Shienar ... Arafel ... Shadowspawn and Dreadlords ... war.

 

"You do have your orders.  We can no be letting the borderlands be overrun.  Travel as soon as you can.  Extra supplies will be coming soon after."

 

Arath and the other leaders saluted, fist to heart, and strode out of the room, headed for their various destinations.  Arath, along with the M'Hael, a Storm Leader and one other Attack Leader, headed for the assembled masses on the training grounds.  The plan was simple enough for now.  A force of 400 would be sent to halt the advance of the shadow in Shienar, divided among the three leaders.  200 would remain with the Storm Leader and form the 'front line', while 100 would go with each Attack Leader and perform as striking/flanking units, under the direction of the Storm Leader.

 

As they approached the assembled Asha'man, the M'Hael wove air and fire to amplify his voice and explianed the situation.  He confirmed the rumors that floated around.  Trollocs and Myrdraal were coming out of the Blight and attacking Shienar and Arafel.  The Black Tower headed for combat.  Arath didn't listen much, since he had heard it all a few minutes before.  Instead he began to review tactics and battle weaves for use in the impending battle.  He had been intending to take a small group into the blight for some hands-on experience with shadowspawn, and regretted his procrastination now.  There were precious few at the Black Tower with actual experience fighting the creatures of the Blight.

 

In short order the men had been assigned their tasks.  Many of them filtered off into the grounds, gathering supplies or making other preperations, others forming into groups under their assigned battle commander.  When Arath's unit had formed off to one end of the training grounds, he issued his own orders.

 

"This unit will provide assistance wherever needed.  If the front line falters, we help them, otherwise we provide flanking attacks and strike wherever we see a weakness in the shadowspawn.  This is the real thing men.  Anyone who disobey's orders will be killed.  We can't afford mistakes.  Everyone is to watch out for the men around him and do his best to protect them.  Understood?"

 

He scanned the group under his command as they all saluted in acknowledgement.  They would do as he commanded.  He knew it.  He had trained many of them, and they all knew him.  Light willing they would all come back.

 

It took only a short while for the other leaders to finish their instructions and for supplies to be gathered.  Less than two hours after the ill fated recruiting party had returned through their gateway, the forces of the Black Tower opened gateways into the beleagured land of Shienar, and into war.

 

OOC: I assume that the Storm Leader will be Covai, but until he officially steps into this, it's best not to make assumptions. The name of the other Attack Leader is Kirrisin.  I want Martyn to be with my group, but everyone is free to join whichever of the three groups you want. :P  I'll get a post started on the North board ... soon :P

 

Post your reactions if you want, and anything else you think you should be doing right up until the gateways open.  And mention which group you are in.  It will make it easier for me to keep track of things in the battles to come :D

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Geirrin listened as the M'Hael addressed them turning rumor into fact.  Men were still joining the masses assembled in front of the M'Hael as his voiced boomed of the din.  Trollocs and Myrddraal were coming out of the Blight and attacking Shienar and Arafel.  He tried to picture their location on the map.  He thought they were part of the Borderlands but he had never been farther North than the farm.  Geirrin's adrenaline was pumping at the thought of facing Trollocs and Myrddraal, Lurks as they were known in Tear. 

 

As soon as the M'Hael's voice went silent Geirrin was ushered into the Storm Leader's group.  He would be part of the main assault group.  He prayed to the creator that he would make it back, this was not sailing into a storm.  This was sailing into a storm with no rudder and a bilge filled with water.  He prayed to the creator that they could push back the Shadow, he prayed that at least some of them would return.  How many Trollocs?  How many Lurks?  How many could they send?  Geirrin began to think of the weaves he would use.  He would have to be efficient so as not to sap all of his strength and endurance early on though he could not be too sparing or the resrve would do him no good.

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Gale was one of the latest to arrive, watching the Gateways slide open just after the last of Asha'man Arath's words. Over the last few months, he'd garnered some ideas of rank but he still was a bit fuzzy on all the details. Nevertheless, he'd only had the barest of sword training (he knew which end to hold, at least) and heavy training with the One Power. But was he ready for battle?

 

Noting Geirrin somewhere near the front, Gale made his way to him. While they weren't the best of friends, and Geirrin a rank above him, the young Soldier still felt a kinship to the man. They were in the midst of building a ship together, after all, and this was the first he'd got to use the Power to create something that didn't blow another thing up.

 

"This do be a joke, yes?" Gale asked the Dedicated, a hand clasping to the shoulder of the man in a show of friendship, perhaps. "We do no be going to war now. The Last Battle do no be here." Well, of course this wasn't the Last Battle. Gale was of a mind to go find a few glasses of Andoran wine, though, and keep himself out of sight until this was all over. What was he doing here, anyway?

 

Still, Geirrin didn't seem to have much chance to respond as soon the two of them had found themselves ushered into what seemed one of the larger forces. Gale felt his eyebrows raise and swallowed. He wasn't sure if he could kill anything with saidin but shadowspawn would be his first test. How hard could it be? They were only the epitome of the Dark One's army. Gale swallowed again and wondered how a drunken dare could have ever gotten him this far.

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Martyn took a deep breath, trying to decide whether to form the Void or not. He had tried hard to unlearn it as soon as he realised saidin waited for him there, shining dimly like a fisherman's hook waiting for him to bite. He wasn't trying to kid himself, they would be going up against Trollocs, Myrddraal and channe-- other channelers, making combat pretty much inevitable. The Dreadlords didn't even worry him that much: He was there to fight the Trollocs and Myrddraal, and leave fighting the channelers to the channelers.

 

Still, even though he felt the Void call to him like it did back in Malkier, there was another part of him that didn't want to have anything to do with the Void. That part, he knew, was Martyn Stonebridge, a symbol for everything he had given up trying to protect his family from the reprecussions of being related to a male channeler.

 

He knew he had to step carefully, as Martyn had never fought -- or seen -- Trollocs in his life. However, what really bothered him was that his secrecy could potentially end up getting others killed. He was good with a sword, able to best even some of the full Asha'men, but he knew if he let his experience show in the chaos of battle he'd effectively destroy the alias he had worked so hard to build up.

 

As his eyes fell on Arath, he had an idea. He could not channel -- or at least not enough to make a difference -- so it wouldn't appear off if he were to remain close to him. In the meantime, he could advise the Attack Leader if he wanted while not having others overhear. Arath also knew his secret, and had sworn not to tell anyone. He approached Arath, standing nearby to maximise his chances of being picked for his attack group. With a little luck, he could still use his experience fighting Shadowspawn to the best of his ability without jeopardising his other identity. It would still mean taking a risk, but as far as he was concerned, it was a necessary one. Not going would have been something he wouldn't have been able to get past his conscience.

 

 

Martyn

Is going

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Amidst the semi-organized chaos that was the Black Tower, Ikki heard that The main force was to be led by the Storm Leader and two support teams by an Attack Leader. He discretely made his way over to Attack Leader Arath's team. He had absolutely no intention of being on the front lines, especially when he was so nervous he could puke...and they hadn't even gone anywhere yet. He formed the void and fed all his anxiety and fear into it. It helped a lot, really. And he might as well be ready. The sword had never been his friend and he was quite strong in the Power.

 

The groups appeared to be organized and he could feel the tension. So many new faces and so many old. How few of them actually faced a Trolloc before? Or a Lurk? He pondered. Would there be just Shadowspawn, or would we be killing men as well? He had heard rumors of Dreadlords and Dreadladies, but rumors were rumors. How much could you believe? He heard a Gateway open. This was really happening.

 

Ikkiliad sur Paendrag

 

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Ze'el narrowed his eyes as he began to assess the situation. He was about to be thrust into battle with a lot of shadowspawn and he couldn't rely on anything other than his novice skills in the One Power. He wasn't very afraid, though, because even if he wasn't an expert with Saidin the men around him were, and as long as he wore their coat they would protect him. Meanwhile, battles were chaos, and Ze'el could easily manipulate that to his advantage- as long as he could count on the Asha'men to have his back he could defend himself.

 

He was herded into a group with the Storm Leader and made his way over to the nearest Gateway. Even as the danger grew more and more, Ze'el couldn't help but feel excited. There was a certain thrill about the unknown, about the dangerous. He enjoyed manipulating people because of the danger it involved- if he made a false step he would be discovered and likely killed. The thrill of being a step away from death was addicting to Ze'el, and this battle would be no different. He would have to constantly manipulate his surroundings and his actions so that he didn't get a wickedly twisted Trolloc arrow stuck in him.

 

Ze'el's lips twitched and he couldn't help but allow a small smile on his face. He must have looked very odd among the stone-faced men ready to go off to the blight and fight the shadow.

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