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Answering the Call (BT-CotS InterDiv)

Arath Faringal

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Daevis Thelandran was not a fool.  Which is why he hated being under Attack Leader Kirrisin's command.  The large Shienaran man knew that something was amiss with the city before the goat-kissing Andoran leader had given the command to enter the city walls.  And yet he had no choice but to follow, or Kirrisin would have his head as a traitor.


It came as no surprise at all to Daevis when the ambush came.  Trollocs and the Eyeless streaming out of the alleys and converging on the enclosed Asha'man.  That in itself wouldn't have been a problem.  The streets funneled the shadowspawn into convenient killing corridors that the Asha'man could easily handle.  No, the danger was coming from the dreadlords raining death from the sky.


Cursing Kirrisin with every curse he could think of, Daevis fought for his life.  Sometimes he bemoaned the fact that others were more skilled with Saidin than he.  Finesse was often more desirable than brute strength.  But now was not one of those times.  Waves of fire poured down the streets, incinerating trollocs where they stood.  The earth rippled and bulged, sending shadowspawn reeling, impaling many of them upon their fellows blades.  He saw one of the Eyeless go down when a trolloc under its command fell and cleaved its captains skull in half.  Despite the grim circumstances he smiled at that.  Poetic justice if he'd ever seen it.


Constantly changing his location as the group shifted, trying to find a more defensible position, Daevis took note of his comrades.  Here a young Tairen soldier, still a teenager by the looks of him, fell to the ground clutching a wound in his shoulder.  An older Kandori man with the silver sword on his collar and a snarl on his face was barricading an alley, trying to stem off the flow of shadowspawn.  Another Tairen man simply stood there, watching his brothers die.  Daevis was about to slap some sense into the man when a powerful lance of lightning crashed down in front of him.  Dazed and disoriented for a moment, he picked himself up off the ground and looked around.  A half dozen charred and smoking bodies were scattered before him, with another dozen picking themselves off of the ground.  His eyes fell upon the Tairen man he had noted before.  He was walking calmly toward the frantic Attack Leader who was screaming orders as loud as he could and rubbing his shoulder.


Daevis never expected what came next.  The small Tairen man abruptly changed into a woman?  A burst of flame from her upraised hand tore right through the man's chest and Kirrisin slowly toppled over.  Daevis was only a shade too slow.  A tightly weaved bundle of fire, earth and air screamed forward to strike the murderess, but missed as she sped off down a deserted alley.  Instead the missile struck the dead attack leader, destroying what was left of him in a gorey explosion.  Cursing, Daevis launched another arrow of fire at the retreating darkfriend, but missed again as the missile streaked inches in front of her and burrowed right through the wall before exploding.


With a furious yell the Asha'man let the dreadlord go and turned back to the raging battle.  The carnage was terrible.  The unending death from the sky had shattered the 100 man strong group into a few struggling fragments.  Even as he watched, one of the groups were over run, the trollocs blades rising and descending in a terrible rythem, sending blood and gore flying.  Lightning flashed again, punching through an Asha'man's shield, killing him and the three others with him, along with over a dozen of the trollocs that surrounded them.


With a quick glance at what remained of the Attack Leader, Daevis made his decision.  He quickly fought his way to the largest group he could find, a mere dozen exhausted men, and brought them toward a large building with solid walls and a small doorway.  He tried not to hear the screams of the few men still dying out there as he reached into the ground with earth and raised a thick stone wall in front of the building.  There was nothing to be done to save them. Angry tears welled up in Daevis' eyes.  His homeland was lost.  And there was nothing he could do to save it.


Pulling deeply on shadow tainted Saidin, the silently weeping Asha'man turned to the survivors.  "Are any of you still able to fight?"  A few of them met his gaze, but otherwise nobody moved or spoke.  He motioned to the only other Asha'man in the room.  "You take the rest of them back to the farm.  I need to warn the Storm Leader." 


The Saldean Asha'man nodded grimly and limped to the other side of the room.  A silvery blue flash revolved open into blackness.  When they were all inside the portal, the Saldean man looked at Daevis again, sorrow showing in his eyes.  "Tai'shar Shienar," he said softly as he let the gateway close. 


Daevis stood quietly for a moment before opening his own gateway and skimming back to the main force.  His own battle was far from over.

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Gale scrubbed a hand through his thick hair, trying to catch his breath and get a handle on the whole combat scenario. It seemed the Shadow didn't intend to give them a nice long breather. No sooner had the Asha'man begun to regroup than did the city erupt in chaos.


Gale watched, helpless with the rest, as lightning rained down on the stone city where Attack Leader Kirrisin led his strike team. There were no orders standing to charge in and help the man, so Gale remained with the rest of the team. As well he might seeing as they had their hands full with the Shadowspawn spilling over the horizon. Honestly, where could these Light-blasted beasts be coming from to be so numerous? Hadn't they all been killed in the Trolloc Wars? No matter.


He still held saidin along with near the entire offensive  line they had here. Traps had been lain in the fields and their defenses got their boosts where they could be managed. Now it was time for the heavy lifting. Again. He clasped a hand on Geirrin's shoulder.


"I think break time do be over," and gestured toward the oncoming forces. The battle-torn city moved to a secondary objective. Especially now that he was noticing the real threat. It had been hidden at first, seeing as there were so many little pockets of the Power being channeled all over the area, but he was putting a feel to it now. There weren't just Shadowspawn coming their way now. Light, but he hoped his training would pay off. Or at least pay off for his companions.


Gale had every intention of coming out of this alive.


"Fortune preserve me, this do no look as if it do be easy." He pulled more of the Power into him and -- with the rest of the  Soldiers, Dedicated, and Asha'man making up this part of the line -- he wove death as fast as he could. Their lives depended on it.






OOC: This might be late or I could be wrong on some details so I tried to keep it very general to make sure I didn't screw anything up. I haven't posted in a bit 'cause I wasn't sure if we were allowed or what we were waiting for, haha. If I'm still supposed to wait, I guess disregard this or whatever it is we do in that situation.

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OOC: When did Kirrisin's name change to Kassian? ???  Either way he's dead now Gale, so get out of there with the survivors at the end of Arath's   ;)


IC: Covai swore as he slammed his fist against the wall. Bastards! He thought. Almost nearly a hundred men wiped out with nothing to show for it. No...not nothing. Covai's eyes took in the large Shienaran standing in front of him. He had most likely seen comdrades die before, but only by a blade or arrow. Battling against the one power was new for all of them. Covai had to hand to the man though. No matter how shaken he may have been he had kept himself to together to report what had happened. Covai's looked towards the fallen Capital. I REFUSE to let their sacrifice be for nothing....


He hated it when his gut feelings turned out to be right. Still, it was part of what made him the Storm Leader. The men on this mission were supposed to have been overkill for whatever they faced. A simple re-enforcing of a garrison, and chance for those without real battle experience to get a taste for it. At least that was Brent's view. Covai cursed the damn Illianer and his pride. The man wasn't fit to hold the title M'hael. Still...it hadn't been Covai's place to speak before, but he'd be damned if he just stood by now. Grabbing the two Ash'man closest to him by the robes, Covai half-dragged them with him. "With me, Now!"


The fact the men had managed to built a fort large enough it actually needed stairs barely even registered in the Storm Leader's mind as he decended to the courtyard. Shadowspawn or an army they could have handled, light, even a handful of channelers perhaps, but not the onslaught of the One Power they had been dealing with. For them to have wounded so many.... Covai brushed the thought from his mind has he made his way passed those tending to the wounded. A small feeling of pride knawed at the edge of the void as each able man got straight back up to head to the battlements again. Whether it was reflexes from training for otherwise, these men were doing a good job. But versus the shadow, a good job wasn't enough.


Ordering space cleared, Covai turned to the two men he had dragged along with him. "Open the gateways back to the Black Tower. We're getting out of here." The anger burning in Covai's eyes was all it took to shut the first man's mouth as he started to open it. "The capital has fallen, and we've just lost close to a hundred men in there. The bastards have channelers of their own!" Covai could feel the void about to shatter around him from his rage as he barked the last words out. Pausing to calm himself down, the Storm Leader raised his voice to reach out to those nearby. He had already drawn their attention, so he may as well include them in the speech.


"And we're not just talking male channelers, they have damn bitches wielding Saidar too! Light burn me but I have to admit it, they've got circles working against us. Despite our numbers we're all dead men here if they've got circles with even half ours. That's why this battle hasn't been going to way it was supposed to." Covai's knuckles had turned white around the hilt of his sword. It wasn't so much of a reflex or habit, he was just the closest thing for him to strangle at the time.


Covai could see Arath from the corner of his eye. The Andorian had to realise what was going on. He couldn't see his friends face from here but he could see the Attack Leader was still keeping the defences running. Still, as Covai raised his hand and started to call him over, Arath had already started making his way over. Covai had nothing but respect for the man and his abilities, but despite their friendship....or perhaps it was because of their friendship that Covai knew what came next wouldn't be pleasant for either of them.


"Arath, I need you to get these people out of here." The rage had eased in Covai's eyes, so he was glad for Arath's training he didn't argue with him openly in front of the troops. "Kirrisin's dead, so are all but a handful of the men with him. Fal Moran has fallen to the Shadow. I don't know how in the light they've done it but the bastards have men AND woman channeling. Thats why we haven't had things going our way. It's not a case of us not knowing what weave's they've been using or them being stronger, we can't even SEE half of their damn attacks. The moment the forces that wiped out Kirrisin leave the capital we're as good as dead here."


The anger had returned to the Storm Leader's eyes. But now the raging hatred was tempered by resignation into a cold fury. "Wounded first and whatever you can salvage, burn what you cant. Dedicated with enough strength are to hold the gateways, but I want every Asha'man who can still fight with me on the battlements, we'll give them one last blast to cover our escape." Covai toyed with a coin between his fingers as his mind raced. He had been there at the Fall of the Stone of Tear....he had been one of the ones to rescue the Dragon at Dumani Wells....but this was the first full scale battle against the Shadow since....well since the Black Tower was created. Covai had one idea he had been toying with, but had never been able to test it out.


Calling together some Asha'man, Covai quickly explained his idea as they walked. He didn't have enough time to call everyone together, so he'd have to give them the general idea and hope it worked. Either way, there's be more dead Shadowspawn by the end of the day. Whilst it burned that they couldn't reach the channelers attacking them, he'd have settle for culling Trolloc numbers for now.


OOC: Okay folks this is about it for us BTers. Quickly retro anything you need to, because the next post will be our final one. Dedicated can jump onto the gateways, and any Asha'man get ready for one last blast. Oh, and Arath, feel free to chase after Covai to join in the final blast. I don't really expect you to just stand there babysitting the gateways :P{




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The trolloc forces were close enough to start loosing arrows now, but they battled harmlessly off the defenses put up by the Asha'man at the moment. What made it over the walls battered harmlessly off shields woven of air. Gale stood with a number of the other Soldiers, Dedicated, and Asha'man channeling all he could with whatever strength he had to save their skins. Light, but it wasn't easy.


He heard Storm Leader Covai shouting in the background, the man's voice heard over the explosions and screams of battle. When the man wanted to be heard, he was. Of course, it didn't hurt that the man used the Power to augment his voice for the real commands, anyway.


The female channelers thing made a great deal of sense. To be honest, Gale was glad to hear it. He was starting to wonder if watching those attacks just happen meant they were doing something he didn't know about yet. He supposed they still were, a great many things, but at least that much was made clear. So they were making circles? Gale was fairly certain they could all fight in a circle if that's where the power came from but he assumed that the Storm Leader meant something different.


That said, Gale had no intention of facing off against anything the Storm Leader said would kill them. Following orders, Gale hopped off the battlement and started toward the enclosement where the Gateways were being held. Naturally, he kept pace with Geirrin and the few others fighting alongside him to be sure everyone got out safely. The might as well cut their losses and escape than make more losses, he thought.




OOC: I have no idea, haha, I just copied it out of Arath's post because I couldn't remember the guy's name. Whoops.

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OOC: My bad . . . I fixed it :P


Arath watched the never ending hordes of shadowspawn from the walls of the Asha'man's fort.  No matter how many they slaughtered the horde never seemed to diminish.  If they could dedicate more power to actually killing the beasts, then perhaps this battle would end quickly.  But the unceasing attacks by channelers were taking a heavy toll.  Too much of their effort was spent on defense.


At first Arath had led his own group out to make strikes against the rear of the trolloc ranks.  He had taken the strongest of the Asha'man and Dedicated, only those who could weave their own gateways, and made lightning fast raids trying to sow confusion among the shadowspawn ranks.  It had worked for a while, but then heavy attack weaves had fallen on them.  It wasn't so much the frequency, but the intensity of those attacks that had made him cease.  He had never seen weaves so strong, more than capable of tearing through even the strongest shields.  Either the forsaken themselves were taking part in the battle, or the enemy had circles.  It was the only explanation.  Once they reached the point where each raid cost him the lives of two or three men, he had deemed it a wasted effort and remained with Covai's forces.


Now he was directing the defenses of their makeshift fort, killing anything that came close.  It seemed that whatever dreadlords were out there didn't dare come too close to the fortifications to attack in strength.  Nothing had changed for some time.  A stalemate.


The monotony was starting to wear on him.  The sound of Covai shouting in the courtyard was therefore more than enough to draw him away.  As he approached, he wondered if he might need to subdue his friend.  The way he was trying to crush the hilt of his sword, he looked as though he might cut the next person to bring him bad news in half.  Arath couldn't blame him though after he heard what Covai had to say.


"Arath, I need you to get these people out of here.  Kirrisin's dead, so are all but a handful of the men with him. Fal Moran has fallen to the Shadow. I don't know how in the light they've done it but the bastards have men AND woman channeling. Thats why we haven't had things going our way. It's not a case of us not knowing what weave's they've been using or them being stronger, we can't even SEE half of their damn attacks. The moment the forces that wiped out Kirrisin leave the capital we're as good as dead here."


After hearing about Kirrisin's demise, Arath wanted to kill something as well.  Truthfully, Arath had hated the man.  A fool who had only been raised to Attack Leader because he had supported Brent in his rise to power.  His rage was more for the hundred men under Kirrisin's command who had died for nothing.  Nothing but their commander's stupidity.


As much as his own pride him to take the Asha'man and avenge the death's of their brothers, he knew Covai had the right of it.  If the dreadlord circles could kill 100 Asha'man so easily, he would only be walking straight to his own death.  Nodding his acknowledgement, he turned around and strode off, shouting orders at everyone.  More for the sake of shouting than relaying orders.


The Asha'man continued to be very efficient.  It didn't take more than a few minutes for the soldiers and dedicateds to assemble with their wounded and being to filter through the gateways.  Knowing that there was nothing he could do to speed their progress, Arath returned to the walls.  The shadowspawn wouldn't stop just because the retreat had begun.


Atop the wall, Arath found Covai in a knot of Asha'man, explaining some sort of attack plan.  He raised an eyebrow as Arath approached him, but Arath spoke first.  "You can't ask me to leave with them.  The soldiers and dedicated are on their way.  I can't make them walk any faster."

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((Sorry for leaving in the beginning, had some problems to keep me away))


Sereth had been there when it began, within the city, fighting with a knot of about 15 black coats, only two others wore the dragon on their lapel, the rest an even mix of soldiers and dedicated. When they entered the city, Sereth’s hardened mind sensed something amiss. The people weren’t in the streets, where was everyone? He wrote it off as some borderland tactic, and continued. Then he felt a huge surge of Saidin, and he knew that he and the men in his group had fallen into a deadly trap. He immediately yelled, “Scatter!” He used large power tactics, nothing compared to this, but he knew what he’d do. Blast the groups, pick of the stragglers as they appeared.


The men obeyed, immediately spreading to the winds, but not fast enough. A group of two soldiers and one of his fellow asha’man were consumed by a pillar of blue fire. Sereth was immediately awed by the attack, looking at the weave that formed it… seeing gaps where there shouldn’t have been. Circles… His mind raced to his conversations with the negotiator, asking about the linking of men and women, and achieving wonderful things for the good of the people.  This though… this was horrible. He was almost sickened at the idea of linking now, the devastation he could accomplish with his own horde of Saidin just barely tolerable. How can we beat this…


The survivors ran off in groups of three, each running in a cardinal direction, his group holding a soldier and dedicated. They blasted shadowspawn as they came across them, leaping out of buildings, attacking form the shadows. He felt as much as saw the devastation born from the lightning and indigo infernos. His hardened void shattered, leaving him with a tentative grip on the normal, knowing that to lose Saidin was death. Some part of his mind knew that he would forever associate that color with death. That was, assuming he got out of this hell hole. They ran into another group of channelers, hard pressed against the shadowspawn. Sereth recognized the man in the lead as Krissian, and began weaving his destruction on the shadowspawn, summoning lightning from the sky, and throwing his fireballs with a hint of earth to harden them.


He was working his way to the side, when he saw a black coated man turn into a woman. He almost lost the void right then, but held on barely, destroying a group of 5 trollocs with a single fireball. He saw his leader’s heart explode, and the normally passive Asha’man roared, promising death to the vile woman who dared such trickery against the Black Tower!  He began weaving air razors to take off her head, but had to redirect the flow to save a soldiers head from a Myrddraall’s black Thakan’dar blade. He saw another asha’man chase after him, and could only assume the girl would pay for her insolence.


He rounded up a group of the survivors, now numbering only 4 of the huge group which had stood beside the Attack Leader, and rushed them into a building. He prayed that the group that went off with the other Asha'man survived, having no time to search for them. He sensed a small amount of Saidin nearby, and looked in the direction, a one eyed man stared at him, and Sereth threw a fireball instinctively, grunting as he felt it cut, and ducked into a building. He ordered them to throw up earthen walls, as he wove two gateways, having to draw fully upon the source to do so. Sereth managing only two thin lines barely wide enough for a man to fit in sideways. “Injured, back to the farm. Those who can fight, with me.” He  waited for the men to go through the gateways, before leaping through to the fortification and letting the weaves go. He marched up to where he thought the Storm Leader would be, and saw him holding the hilt of his sword with a strangle hold. When the order for Asha’man to come with him came, he got into line without hesitation. He had seen far too many die today; he’d make the shadow pay a hundred times that in the blood of shadowspawn.


But he knew he’d never forget those blue flames…




Arcon Dadread was having fun, moving among the city, holding the source and launching attack after attack at the pockets of these black coated fools, his enemy to overwhelmed to locate the channeler and destroy him, or at least tried. He had moved from the armies of shadowspawn to the city, knowing the landscape out here better, and having a far better idea of inner city tactics than he had learned from books of army battles. He was tempted to throw his lot in with his Chosen, but refrained, thinking his power would do nothing to bolster such a fearsome weapon of the shadow.


He watched as Terra dropped her disguise, located high on a building, flow after flow cut by that man with the decorated coat. He laughed out loud as she blasted the man point blank in the chest with Saidar. Good girl… Terra, you were a wise investment… Arcon made his way down to ground level, working his way through the allies, chasing a pocket of five asha’man who had survived the killing ground. As he was about to strike, an Andorian spotted him, and threw an incredibly powerful fireball his way, and Arcon cut it as the man slipped into the building. So confident you’d win Asha’man! Hah It was a nice break from the subterfuge that he normally worked, his blood line and mask of mirrors serving him well.


He chased the man, watching the stone walls go up, and feeling a large amount of Saidin being worked within. Arcon drew fully on the source, planning on bursting through with a pillar of fire, and as he released the weave, he felt the power die within. Peaking inside, he was disappointed to find no bodies. Gateways… He cursed, and went to regroup with the Chosen’s circle, watching as pillars of blue flame consumed the last of the Asha’man…


It was a glorious day for the Great Lord of the Dark.

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Ikki paled as he heard rumors of reports from the city. Almost all of that 100 Asha'man group had been killed, and the Attack Leader was killed by a woman? Light, how did a woman infiltrate something like that? It seemed...illogical to him. Was there some weave to change your appearance? That would explain some things.


The call to retreat sounded and he got ready to move. Other Dedicated ran to maintain the Gateways and Soldiers rushed through with the injured. He, of course, was much slower at getting there, but it was fortunate he didn't. He wasn't sure what exactly hit, but it was something that ended up hitting an Asha'man with some force. Looking around, the medics were off carrying wounded away and no one else was near. He hurried himself over to the man and wove a delving weave, as he had seen done any times hanging around the infirmary. There were some fractured ribs, a large gash on his chest, and a small burn hole on his lower back. It looked like it would be too much for him to do, but he tried anyways. Taking the needed Air, Water, and Spirit, he wove the complex Healing weave. His eyes widened as the gash mended itself together. He had never been able to Heal like that before! He delved again and the Asha'man's rib injuries and burns were gone. Ikki helped him up and led him over to the Gateway. He passed the recovered, yet weakened Asha'man off to a Soldier and went to Gateway duty, feeling very proud of his new found abilities.



Talent Manifesto!!!!


OOC: Should I have Tig start a bigger attack with some more dreads to put the pressure on the Ashies, or wait a bit for that?

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As the group of Asha'men entered the Gateway taking them past the walls of Shienar, Calaun held up a hand to signal the end of the attack. The human channelers had been driven into the city, into the trap that, if her own feelings were correct, had just triggered on the unsuspecting black coated men. Knwing she and her troops were in the open, she retreated back into the relative safety the forest offered. Given that the Shadow had now played its trump card, it would be unlikely she would be able to do more now, especially against opponents that knew she was there now.


Her Fist -- most of them nursing wounds -- limped their way to the forest, bodies bruised yet with pride left whole. A lot of them had died, but their weapons had tasted human blood, and channeler blood at that! More than enough glory to honor the warriors that the Ahf'frait Clan had lost that day. After reaching the safety of the trees they relaxed, tending to their wounds as the sounds of battle rumbled from the Shienarian capital, occasional flashes of red and yelow and blue visible in the skies. There was much glory to the Shadow indeed...



Calaun Ontrix Seyr




Rebecca was feeling tired from the effort of weaving, espeically while doing so at a distance. She knew they were unable to detect her weaves as much as she was unable to detect theirs, and from where she stood she hadn't detected sidar being channeled. No circles for them, it seemed. Still, by focusing her attention on a small path she made traps fizzle and weaves spin out of control, giving the Trollocs a chance to reach the Asha'man ranks. They still barely made it to the fortifications, but that was all she could do for them without geting involved. And despite being strong in the Power, she could never take on a force of a hundred channelers on her own should they notice her.


However, even from how far away she was from the city she could still almost sense the raw amount of channeling that was taking place in the Shienarian capital, and knew Sammael's trap had been successful. Her own stamina pretty much spent from trying to sabotage traps, she decided to lean back when she noticed the first of the Gateways spring up amongst the Asha'man ranks. They knew they had circles now, and were already starting to retreat; all that was left was to watch the remnants get mopped up...




Grinning smugly



Martyn watched the carnage on the battlefield, grasping saidin as if it were the last thing keeping him alive, and he knew it was closer to the truth than he wanted to believe. They were successful at keeping the Shadowspawn at bay, though some patches of traps seemed less effective than the others, but what worried him were the sounds coming from the city. Judging by the sound of explosions and the flashes of light, Kirrisin's group was having a hard time, far harder than a group of his number should be having in an undamaged city, when he heard the report. And what he heard made him feel a mixture of his insides turning to ice as well as overcome by a white-hot fury. The end result was... different, though not particularly enjoyable to say the least.


"Wounded first and whatever you can salvage, burn what you cant. Dedicated with enough strength are to hold the gateways, but I want every Asha'man who can still fight with me on the battlements, we'll give them one last blast to cover our escape."


Hearing Arath's words, he too got up to the battlements, now focusing on a target of his anger, a release for this maelstrom of hatred and rage that he was feeling for the Shadowspawn. Without them, he'd never have channeled. Without them, he'd be with his wife and daughter now. Without them, hundreds, thousands of people would be alive now. He glared at the Trollocs as intently as a Myrddraal would have, and channeled.


It felt... odd, the weave he made. He knew he had never seen any of the Asha'men create it during training, had never done it himself either. It felt as if he was trying to recall a distant memory, his body more in control of his actions than his mind was. For one thing, it looked impossibly hard, making the weaves around him seem simple and crude in comparison. For one brief second, it seemed to just remain in the air, simply floating there like the silence before the storm.


And then it lashed out.


The weave shot into the ground in front of him, and a small tremor could be felt throughout the area. Where it had struck the ground however, the soil seemed to bulge, as if a great force were pushing up from under it. Not long afterwards, a blast of lava shot up, showering the area in liquid fire much to the displeasure of the Shadowspawn unfortunate enough to be too close to the eruption. The ground itself shook more violently, and red hot creepers of lava could be seen, thrusting the land upwards as well. The rumbling ceased, and where once there had been a plain now stood a small hill, roughly twenty feet across with edges still blackened and jagged. The sight managed to snap Martyn out of the trance he had sunken in, and saidin slipped from his grasp during his confusement as he looked at Arath.


Nevertheless, the brief respite was only momentary, and given Shadowspawn tactics they'd be running through as soon as the ground cooled off somewhat again in a few minutes at most. If they were going to leave, this would be the time to do it. Trying to grasp saidin again, he found his block was once again firmly in place, and he quickly got down from the battlements awaiting the creation of a Gateway that would be taking the last of them back to the relative safety of the Black Tower. And, not in the least, a way to find out what in the Light he had just woven.




Rediscovered 'Spinning Earthfire'

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OOC: Rediscovered 'Spinning Earthfire'? Sorry to call you up on this but this is a weave the BT already knows. We even used it at Dumani Wells :P




IC: Covai acknowledge Arath's point with a nod of his head. "Alright, lets get moving then. Long story short, I'm going to try to blind them for a moment. While they're covering their eyes, everybody unleashed with everything they've got. Whilst the weaves do their work, we get the hell out of here. Got it?" Covai barely waited for a response before moving to take his position.


"You two, Cover me." Covai made his command as Storm Leader to the two Asha'man standing directly beside him. Pausing briefly before he started, Covai focused his all his might into two elements, fire and air. A spiralling sphere started to form some twently feet above him, fluxuating violently. He had never before been grateful for the battle at Dumani Wells, but he was now. Covai had been the one to ignite the signal flares in the sky to launch to attack to reclaim the Dragon, and that's where his idea had come from. He still wasn't used to channeling from such a distance, but his determination and pride as a Storm Leader refused to let him fail. Despite the void, he could feel his body pushed to it's limits, he knew he held enough power in his being to obliterate the fortress in the blink of an eye. He just hoped it would buy them the time they needed.




The words tore from the Storm Leaders mouth as he yanked violently at the last thread he had been holding. The sphere distorted like a discus momentarily before exploding, blinding light and heat exploding in a shockwave from above the Black Tower's fortress. Despite shutting his eyes, Covai could still feel the light as if his face was infront of a fire. Combined with channeling for half the day, that last effort had drained the last of his energy. With only the vaguest reflection of regret, Covai released his hold on Saidin.




I must be more tired than I thought... Covai mused as he was carried towards the gateway. He must have mentally blanked out for a moment, because he couldn't even remember the two men picking him up under each arm and carrying back towards the gateway. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, the familiar smell of the tower grounds brought him back to his senses just in time to see the final gateway close.


Finding the strength to stand, the Storm Leader of the Black Tower surveyed the damage the tower had recived. Almost a quarter of their men dead, and the rest exhausted. Their first battle should not have been like this. He hated to admit it, but they had suffered a resounding defeat. Grabbing a fresh Dedicated by the collar as he passed, Covai didn't even bother trying to hide his anger. "Get the medics now. Drag along every man you can find who can use healing weaves and get them here too. Then go get that damn Illianer and bring him to my quarters."


The man's confusion at the last order really made Covai angry. "Get the M'hael and tell him to come to my Quarters!!" Leaving the man to his duties, Covai managed to find his way over to Arath. The two of them waited for a few mintues, watching to make sure the men were being tended to. Covai had never though he'd see the day, but even the civilians had turned out in force to help. Sisters, brothers, sons, daughts, wives and lovers. It had been years since Covai had felt such pain as he did watching them search for those who had not returned.


Covai didn't have the strength, or the cruelty to push the pain aside. To do would only be an insult to the men who had died under his command this day. It was all he could manage to keep a straight face infront of the people who had lost loved ones this day. As soon as everyone had been taken care of, Covai fully intended on getting reaquainted with an old bottle of wiskey, and reaquainted Brent's face with his fist. Truth be told, he still wasn't sure which would happen first.


OOC: Well thats it from us. I've carried the thread back over the the BT boards, so make your final post before the gateways close then head back home. CotS, it's been a real blast  ;)



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Geirrin was staring off at the city watching the events unfold.  They couldn't see exactly what was happening but they could feel Saidin and see the signs of destruction.  Gale's words sunk in "I think break time do be over," Geirrin simply nodded in agreement with his friend. "Fortune preserve me, this do no look as if it do be easy."   Finally he responded though his eyes were still looking off into the distance. 


"If we are silverpike then surely they are lionfish.  Easy, this will be as easy as catching fish in a net full of holes.  Like sailing on a lee shore with no rudder."  Geirrin shook his head in disbelief.  He had gone to the farm because it sounded like fun, "Learn to wield lightning" they had said to him.  They forgot to mention fighting shadowspawn and darkfriends who could channel.


He could not recall how much time had transpired since the horizon filled with the dark forces of the Shadow.  The day had gone against them, their defeat was immenent.  In no time Geirrin found himself being ordered to make a gateway back to the farm.  The Asha'man were being called as a rear guard.  Geirrin drew as much of the power as he could handle making the largest gateway that he could.  He stood aside as the injured soldiers were carried through the opening.  He fought the urge to step through himself though he could never live with the shame. 


Geirrin cursed himself though not too hard as he was no bloody hero.  He quickly turned his thoughts to his friend, Gale had been walking back with him until Geirrin was ordered to open a gateway.  Gale was a soldier and should be through the gate next after the injured had been removed from the field.  He searched those around him trying to spot his friend.  Perhaps he had helped carry one of the injured through another gateway and was now safe at the farm.  Knowing his friend he was helping others not caring a stitch for his own safety.  He prayed to the creator to see the Illianer safe back to the farm.


Finally he was ordered to close the gateway.  Geirrin stepped through the gateway and let it wink out.  He let go of Saidin as soon as the gateway closed and sank to his knees out of exhaustion.  He was bone weary and could not stand or draw on Saidin if his life depended upon it.  The farm seemed in disarray as civilians and the uninjured tried to tend to those less fortunate.  Disappointment was plain on many faces though he was too tired to care.  He was lucky to be alive.



Valeran gaped as the traps seemed less effective.  What under the light had happened.  He had no time to think as the ground erupted underneath him.  He felt himself flying through the air and grunted as he landed hard on the rock strewn ground.  He tried to gasp for air but none came and his vision went dark. 


When Valeran came to he was being half carried, half dragged through a gateway.  He cursed those who were aiding him to let him go, he still had some strength left.  He was no coward, he would not leave the field while he could still fight.  The two soldiers advised him that all the injured and soldiers were retreating first.  He was too weak to pull free so he had no choice but to go were they dragged him.


They layed him on the ground with other injured men in black coats.  A woman approached and he tried to wave her off though she half sat on him as she dabbed at his bloody head with a cloth.  She threatened him with bodily harm if he dared to move a muscle.  Before he knew it she had wrapped a bandage around his head and thrust a waterskin in his hand with assurances that she would skin him alive if he did not take his ease.  Light the woman was like a General, she gave him orders and expected them to be followed.  He assured her that he would do as she instructed and thanked her as she walked away.  A tough woman, he had not even gotten a good look at her so he could properly thank her later.  He stared into the gloomy cloud filled sky as his thoughts drifted to other battles, this was certainly not his first defeat.

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Sereth Arian watched as the storm leader rose his flare, recognizing the weave he shut his eyes, but still he was blinded. The white clouding his vision faded a hairsbreadth, enough to weave... He drew fully on the source. Every fiber of his frame filled with that wonderful, vile, molten chill of life. Normally this filled him with joy, despite the taint, but now it simply hurt. He was reminded of his first day with Saidin, Drak teaching him to embrace the source and he nearly burning himself out on the first opportunity.


To put it simply, he didn't care.


Men whom he had admired while he was in the lower ranks were slaughtered before his very eyes, his companions as he gained his pins decimated, and even the hopefuls who Sereth honestly thought would be more than mere weapons, killed. The black tower was a military organization, he knew that, he accepted it. They would kill people, he would kill people. But never would they have killed so many, so quickly, and laughed while they did it...


Indigo flames, falling from the sky. Gaps in the weaves where only solid lines should have been... Lightning forking, hunting...


It was all Sereth could do not to step over the line as he wove, open up a gateway in the center of the battlefield, and do his best to go out like the original dragon had, creating a monument where he fell. But no, that would only kill shadowspawn. His target was a woman... one who could take any appearance she willed.


Fire and air were woven into tight bundles, flying from his outstretched hands in waves, exploding upon contact with the enemy. Earth rose, lightning fell, every bit of death that he could deal was death upon these shadow cloaked and beast snouted warriors. He wove until his mind went numb, others shouting for him to leave. He stood with the other men from Kissian's group, intent on slaying every last one of them.


Finally, an arrow rose and took him in the shoulder, the shock making him instinctively retreat mentally, only barely remembering to release the source lest it consume him. The man who led the group away from the slaughter at Kissian's death site, looked at him, and wove a gateway, dragging the Andorian through.


Sereth tried to protest, screaming at the man, kicking, but was dragged through regardless. The fight had ended...


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Arath looked over the oncoming scores of trollocs and fades, a cold fury built up inside him and hovering around the edges of the void.  He needed to focus.  The Black Tower's remaining forces were slim, but they were the elite.  The full Asha'man.  They would hold as long as necesary.  But the dreadlords knew that the retreat was begun, and they seemed determined to cause as much death as they could before the chance slipped away.


Averting his eyes as Covai wove his flare, Arath spared a glance at the still retreating men.  Most of them were gone.  Just a few dedicated still holding gateways, and a handful of others still completing some task or another before they too fled the battle.  Lightning flashed down into the now mostly emptied fortress.  Arath looked up at the sky and ground his teeth.  Thick cables of Saidin were being woven through the clouds, spurring the storm on and building up the intensity.  Soon the lightning would fall like rain.


But Arath knew how to deal with lightning.  He had done it before, against another of the forsaken.  It was reckless, and dangerous to himself and everyone around him, but bloody effective.  Shouting orders to the Asha'man around him, Arath directed them to call as much lightning as possible down on the field in front of them.  The lightning would fall, but much of it would fall away from them until he was ready for it.


Drawing deeply on Saidin, Arath began to weave heavy amounts of earth and fire around himself, making something close to a grounded shield.  Over the top of it he prepared air and fire, not quite finishing the weave to call lightning down upon himself.  Finally, he wove the complex weave of all five powers that would normally send lightning forth from his hands, but instead attached it to his shield also.  The result looked messy, but had proven it's worth before. 


Arath scanned the skies, trying to find where the weaves controling the storm were originating from.  It seemed as though it was coming from a hill roughly a half mile distant.  He couldn't see anything on the hill, but that's where the weaves seemed to come from.  Giving warning to his comrades and motioning them to step away from him, the Attack Leader stretched his hand toward the hill, and sent flows of the power to extend his odd weave in that direction.  At the same time, he finished the lightning weave and released his weapon. 


The world went white, and impossibly loud.  A tremendous roar threatened to tear his ears apart, and he felt himself quiver as unbelievable amounts of energy coursed through the air around him.  It was all over in an instant, but it seemed an hour.  Gradually he began to come to his senses again, remembering how to blink, remembering how to see.  Breathing.  Breathing was good. 


A few seconds were all that had elapsed before Arath put everything back together and began to struggle to sit up.  Moving hurt, but he didn't seem to be injured too badly.  His head throbbed though.  He doubted he would be able to sieze the source for a while, let alone channel for anymore of the battle.  The battle ... Arath looked around suddenly as he suddenly remembered the fight raging around them.  Hands reached down to grab him and help him to stand as the Asha'man finally came to assist him.  Peering over the wall, Arath saw what his attack had done. 


The hill in the distance seemed relatively unscathed.  A scorch mark marred much of the top, but not as much as Arath would have believed.  The real carnage lay in a straight line leading up to the hill.  The lightning blast had apparently travelled low enough to the ground that pieces of it arced down to strike anything below it.  A scorched line twenty paces wide and a half mile long was littered with the twisted remains shadowspawn.  Scores of them.  That would have to be enough.  He hoped that at least a few dreadlords had died in the blast.


Arath looked up and down the walls at the Asha'man.  They were fighting, but they were falling.  Slowly, one by one, they were beginning to fall to the ever increasing barrage of attacks.  A glance down at the courtyard told him that all of the lesser ranks had now fully retreated. It was time for the rest of them to do so as well.  "Retreat," he shouted.  Or tried to anyway.  It mostly came out as a hoarse croak.  The man helping him to stand shouted it out for him though, and the Asha'man fell back from the wall, carrying any of their fallen brothers with them.  As Arath made his way through the gateway, his pent up frustration finally broke through, and tears streamed down his face.  Never again, he swore silently to himself.  Never again will we be forced to run. Next time, we will crush them.

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Irritation was the only thing Tigara felt as one, puny Asha'man undid the storm he made while linked with a woman. He could feel Shana's irritation as well, but much of it was directed at him. He decided to hold off and collect a few more members to his circle before trying again. They would come, he was sure of it. Those not linked with Sammael in the city would be in his general area. They knew Rebecca was further down the hills, supposed to be sabotaging wards. Terra was infiltrating the Asha'man. Which ones, he was not sure, but she could take care of herself. Arcon was in the city. He had no idea where M'bela was. Likely in Arafel, but who knows.


Then there was Raven. He was just a short ways east of him, but he didn't want to link with that man. Few did, for knowing his thoughts has turned out to be a horrifying experience. He certainly had issues, but not even he knew why. Rumors speculated trauma or amnesia, but no one could say for sure.


Dreadlords and ladies alike made their way to the circle. No one was contesting his control of the circle. He was a adept weaver and was respected by many. By the time the blue fire rained from the sky over Fal Moran, his circle consisted of 15 women and 9 men including himself. 24 in all. It wasn't bad considering the amount of people in the city. He began to march south, where the Asha'man had camped. It was time for another thunderstorm. Taking all he could from his circle, he wove another thunderstorm. The clouds turned the most ominous shade of black and rolled with ferocity.


Then he noticed other flows of saidin being woven into the clouds and lightning was falling. It wasn't his lighting! They neared the top of the hill when everything went white and a roar of power seared the top of the hill, killing a dreadlord and two dreadladies, plus injuring a half dozen others. "What in the name of the Great lord was that?!" he semi-yelled as he continued the march. Now his lightning was falling with as much force as he could muster. Topping the hill, he redirected all his energies into the earth. The ground rippled and rolled like the waves of the ocean. And he wanted a tsunami. Rock, dirt, and sand crashed down on the camp as the retreating forces started to disappear through Gateways. A black wave of fire, shaped like ravens, rose from the east. There was no mistaking who that was. When the dust settled, all that was left was the dead bodies. They were gone. The Shadow had been victorious.


Tigara Kazim





"Must kill. Must destroy. Consume in flames. Burn them all!"


"No, you mustn't. You mustn't kill."


"Yes, kill! Destroy them!"


Atop a hill, Raven Darkfyre sat in heated, if not simple, arguement. Dove, on of the voices that frequented him, was trying to convince him not to destroy the Asha'man. Dove, one of the many voices that lived in Raven's head, was his only voice of good and one of the two voices that came regularly. The other one was Crow, much like Raven, but greedier and more simplistic. None of his other voices had names. None of the others ever showed up more than once before disappearing again, but Dove and Crow were frequent.


Ignoring Dove, his gaze fell across Fal Moran. He could feel the saidin being used. He wished he could be there to participate in this bloodbath, but he ended up here. They said he had a job to do. Feeling a sudden increase in the amount of saidin used to the west, his head whipped around. Just then, his vision was whited out by a concentration of lightning shot at the circle. The circle retaliated quickly with lighting of their own. This was his signal.


Grabbing a hold of saidin, he filled himself to the brim. Taking all the Fire he could, which was rather a lot, he sent a rolling wave of fire towards the Asha'man camp. As usual, he added a touch of spirit to make it his own. The fire was black as night and shaped like a flock of raven, ready to kill. The black fire consumed dead bodies, straggler Asha'man trying to get through a Gateway, and those holding the last two Gateways. A wave of earth from the circle met up with his wave of fire, devastating the base. Raven cackled in delight as the bodies burned. Oh, he enjoyed the slaughter.


Raven Darkfyre

My new, insane dready!




Ikki nearly lost his hold on the Source when Arath launched that whatever at the hill. His vision had been nothing but white and his ears ached from the terrible roar it gave off. He squeezed his eyes shut and held onto the Source with all his might. He must keep that Gateway open. He slowly opened his eyes and realized he could see. Looking around, he saw the line of devastation Arath's weave had caused. So many Shadowspawn had died in that weave and the top of the hill was gone! He stared in admiration as two Asha'man helped Arath through his Gateway. Asha'man in the front were falling fast, so a retreat was called. No more than four men had gone through his Gateway before he got new orders. "You, get back to amp and start Healing." He nodded in acknowledgment and got ready to go.


He turned back to look at the battlefield just before going through his Gateway. The ground had started to roll like the ocean and to the east, he saw something black sweeping towards them, like a flock of birds. Whatever it was, he was going to get out of there as soon s he could. He ran through and closed his Gateway. Safe and sound.


Ikkiliad sur Paendrag


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ooc fun playing, and sorry semi never even turned up to greet you ;), though even if not posted, if anyone of those surviving the city wants too they could remember seeing the chosen (both) with the circle or something, so the BT can manage to piece things togheter and deduct that there be 2 chosen up there ;) (seeing as you left before the city forces made it out to the battlefield pretty much)


Aslan departed among the first Asha'men, there was plenty of them to help fight, and his talent could helped on the field, but he trusted the leaders to have plans enough that his contribution alone wouldnt make the bigest difference. His strength in the female elements could though make the difference in the nursery to some lives, and he felt that he needed to go based on the reports made, to see what he could do to help reduce the damage among those hurt that could still be saved. And in the end, by the time the Asha'men returned the retreet would soon enough end and be finalised.





M'bela looked in glee as she could spot gateways down in the camps, instructing the two others she had with her now, she made sure that every last bit of force was being set in. The city behind them in the distance was quiet now, after a storm of channeling, of which at one point she could start feeling saidar at times even back here, meaning only one thing by logic deduction, a circle containing both chosen, cause only something strong sorounding a female chosen would be felt like that this far off she was sure.


And even with the last damage done as she observed the retreat she could feel the chill of strong forces, already indications in the defence of strengthening by smaller groups of dreadlords trickeling in towards the battlefield.


It was not difficult to feel where the gate to allow the chosen in was made either when it finaly opened, it was like a shining light, and she wove a gateway to take her closer before walking in. After it was clear that they were victorious, something anounced to the skies so all forces wheter able to see or not would hear it, the reports had to be done. And then the clean up, healing was something she did not enjoy, but they had to try to save what could be saved, and most of all dreadlords, and she took to the fields with others lead by Semirhage. She was not sure where Sammael went to, but asumed he was doing off somewhere arranging and taking controll, there would be many more reports probably then the ones the higher ranks had made, and it would be vital to make sure the army of spawn and men did not go rampaging out of control.


As she left another young dreadlord writting in pain, having healed the graver damages, but left him with enough he'd have a painfull healing period to full resurection, she took a breather. It had all togheter went better then she could have contemplated, and they had proven their hold of the gate, the first shadowheld area not contaminated. She smiled and looked back at her patients, they would all heal, none of them was among the ones most damaged as such. Or should one call them victims, all of lesser ranks and couldnt touch her, she made sure of that, she guessed they could be happy their healer was not Semirhage herself.



Servant and fan of Semirhage

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  • 2 weeks later...

OOC: *whistles* slightly late, but just to finish it up...


IC: It happened so fast. One moment there was nothing, and the next shadowspawn flooded into the city. They seemed to appear from no where, spawning from nooks and corners, and even shadows. The logical part of Ze'el's mind whispered that only Shades could appear from the shadows, but even the trollics seemed to pop out of no where. For an instant, he panicked; Ze'el had never been in a situation where he honestly thought he was in danger. Men just as panicked as he was scurried around like ants, desperately fighting for their lives. A sword whistled through the air towards him, and Ze'el froze, merely staring at it like a fool. It was his lucky day however, and a man trying to run away ran between him and the blade. The fool's head was cleaved in two, and blood (among other unnamed fluids) splattered Ze'el.


For most men, this would make them panic even further, but it was all Ze'el needed to snap out of his pitiful state. Ze'el grasped Saidin quickly, for once glad that Covai had forced him to learn how to grasp the source quickly. He weaved Earth and Fire into the ground in front of the Trollic, making it explode and showing bits of gore all over the ground. Once the immediate threat was gone, Ze'el took a moment to gaze around himself. Men and beasts were dying all around him, some snarling, some screaming, and some pleading (although the last was mostly from the humans). He gripped Saidin like a lifeline, although his pitiful strength in the Power did him little good. Dryly, he realized that perhaps his teachers had been right to attempt to teach him the use of mundane weapons; the extra security would be more than welcome.


Getting an idea, Ze'el looked around for something to throw. Rubble was everywhere, but the first thing he found that was of appropriate size was the severed hand of one of his former comrades. Ze'el sneered and kicked the deceased body away from his new weapon, and gingerly picked up the appendage. Deftly the Soldier wove Fire and Earth into the still-bleeding hand and threw it into an area densely populated by shadowspawn, and smirked when he saw the results. He repeated his barrage multiple times, sometimes with stones, and sometimes with limbs, and was satisfied by the consequences. He could have sworn that he had seen a Mydrall fall to his grenades, but common sense dictated that it was unlikely he would be able to fell a monster of that caliber.


He saw the black coated men begin to fall back to one point. "Must be the rally point," Ze'el thought. Just as he was about to leave and follow them, he heard a voice call out weakly to him. He didn't know why, but something made him turn and see what the disturbance was. The street was littered with strewn bodies and part of bodies, and charred from his relentless, murderous barrage; however, it seemed that one man was alive still. He was weak and appeared to have a wicked slash down his leg; there was no way he would be able to make it to the rally point. Ze'el almost didn't help him; after all, a body would just slow him down, but he then realized that it would look better for him to show up helping a survivor, regardless of the danger to himself. He bent down and picked up the Dedicated, using flows of Air to help him.


Together he and the nameless man made their way over to where the other men were going, and then he heard the Attack Leader (the smarter one, not the idiot that had gotten him into this mess) call out a retreat. "Wait!" Ze'el called out, and luckily the man holding the gateway open listened to him. He and his burden hobbled over towards the silver doorway to salvation, and dove through just as it was closing. Ze'el bit back a sneer as the burden thanked him, but managed to smile weakly. He could blame it on the "trauma" or some other worthless excuse. The cries of the dead and dying were finally gone, but the moans of the wounded still prickled Ze'el's ears. Calmly, he gazed around at his 'comrades' and decided that war was very overrated.


OOC: it's pretty gory, but I wanted to show how little Ze'el cared about anyone :) Sorry I didn't get around to posting more on this!

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