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DRAGONMOUNT

A WHEEL OF TIME COMMUNITY

Approaching the Boss (Part Two - The Legend)


Covai Seriba

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Sereth passed on the opportunity to make an introduction to the Lord Dragon, instead watching everyone else's like a hawk, examining the effect of such a potent Ta'veran. He doubted he'd have to many times to study it. Then the exchange started between Covai and Jarron. Years of studying people let Sereth know just how rushed the man's report was given, even if he hid his stress well. Always the leader Covai, never show a hint of weakness to your men... or your superiors it seems.

 

Then Jarron spoke those sickening words, and the normally passive Asha'man made a move for the Dragon himself, but the Storm Leader beat him to it. He was undaunted by the amount of power the Dragon could hold, filling himself to the point of pain himself. He couldn't beat him outright...but maybe if he overloaded himself... He knew his thoughts were possibly the first signs of madness, or maybe the Dragon's presence, but he didn't care.

 

"Pillars of blue flame, torching nearly a hundred men. Lighting hunting us out like some light-forsaken hound, not to mention women managed to infiltrate our ranks, and strike down an attack leader..." His voice was ice, and the void was close to bursting around him. "We weren't 'boys', my Lord Dragon. We were soldiers up against a superior force. Male channelers against circles that were lead by someone whose weaves could only be described in terms of the most elegant of dances..."

 

Sereth clamped down his jaw, remembering his oath, wishing he had the opportunity to meet this man before he had sworn it. He doubted such an arrogant wretch could save the world... A deep breath later he transformed the hot anger into a cold wrath. At least this way, he could think. I will be your blade until the battle is done Lord Dragon... I will not go against an oath.

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Saidin surged through Arath, though he wasn't sure what he planned to do with it.  Was he going to pull Covai away, or protect him from Jarron? 

 

"At least those Asha'man died living up to their name. When was the last time you actually got off your damn arse and started doing something Jarron?" 

 

With a start, Arath realized he was sweating, something he hadn't done in quite a while, and it had nothing to do with the heat.  He was sure that Covai had overstepped his bounds.  And yet, Jarron did nothing but rub his jaw for a moment.

 

Some of the other Asha'man were plainly in shock.  Sereth and Ikki seemed to be rambling, others too stunned to speak at all.  Every one of them held Saidin, near to bursting as far as he could tell.  Ignoring the others, he stepped forward and spoke. 

 

"If you must know the numbers, four hundred of us went to Shienar.  Nearly a full hundred didn't come back."  He didn't particularly like the feel of the Dragon's eyes bearing down on him now, but he continued anyway.  "We don't know how many Dreadlords were there.  I wouldn't guess more then two hundred.  And at least one of the forsaken.  The problem was that they came at us linked.  I was at Dumai's Wells, and I recall just how well you faired against a linked group.  We faced many circles, made up of Dreadlords with far more years of training than us.  Under the circumstances, I'd say we did better than could have been hoped for."

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  • 4 weeks later...

Jarron rubbed his jaw as he thought. "Died living up to a name? Bah, they should be making others do it instead. Years more training? So what?" Stretching his neck to either side, Jarron could hear a few of his bones move. At least he wasn't seeing stars.

 

"Let me tell you something Covai. Dying for your country, ideals, honour...it all means nothing in the end." Jarron's gaze fixated on the man like a hawk. "You make the shadow die for theirs. Thats how you fight them. I had expected you to know that." Something inside Jarron was disappointed. Each time he thought he found somebody worthwhile, there was always something wrong with their outlook that held them back from being truly useful.

 

Closing his eyes as he shook his head, Jarron decided if he was going to make a move, it had best be now. Keeping the source held, he headed for the door, a blast of air slamming the doors open infront of him. "Follow me, all of you."

 

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Covai blinked as Jarron stode past, the sound of the doors slamming open awaking him from a daze. He had expected a fight, or some kinda of abuse for what he had done. Despite every scenario he had run though his mind, disappointment from the Dragon had never even been a possibility. "Light..." Covai muttered as he spun around, following behind in the Dragon's path.

 

 

Covai could feel the memories rush back from when the Stone fell as he walked though the halls. Aiel and shadowspawn had filled the halls back them. As much as he hated to admit it, he had almost failed to tell the difference between the two a number of times. Despite holding the rank of Attack Leader at the time, it had been his first true battle experience. He could still remember the emotions the first time he had seen......

 

******************************************************************************

 

..The Heartof The Stone. Jarron mused as he entered Callandor's resting place. It was here he had slain one of the Forsaken. It was here the High Lords had kneeled at his feet. It was here the Asha'man had revealed themselves to him. And it was here he had finally accepted exactly what and who he was. There was no place more fitting to act as his gateroom, the place from which he set out to fulfil his destiny.

 

Or at least that's what he allowed others to think. Truth be told it was one of the few places Jarron could find privacy and escape curious eyes. He knew the people in Tear stayed clear of this room because it held Callandor, a treasure from what was now known as the Age of Legends. The fear of such an unstopable weapon quietly but surely held even the most stalwart of them at bay. The fact that that weapon could now be wielded simply increasd their fear.... and the distance they kept.

 

Walking to the centre of the room, Jarron looked down at the crystal sword, blade thrust down into the floor. Wielding all five elements in unison, Jarron took apart the wards he had placed around the blade as he grabbed in by the hilt, brandishing it in a wide arch before fastening it to his back with an inverted weave of air.

 

Spinning around, Jarron raised a hand a split the air infront of him, widening the hole until it was wide enough for two men to walk abreast safely. Travelling would be faster, but Jarron had decided it would be better to use skim to the Tower ground instead. He still needed some time to think.

 

Tilting his head with impatience, Jarron looked at the dumbfounded Asha'man looking at him, his previous tone of arrogance slipping back into his voice as his eyes met Arath's. "Hurry up now boys. It's time you all had some real training"

 

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"At least those Asha'man died living up to their name. When was the last time you actually got off your damn arse and started doing something Jarron?"

 

Tai stood ready, whatever would happen he was certain the Dragon would not like such a rough comment.

 

"If you must know the numbers, four hundred of us went to Shienar.  Nearly a full hundred didn't come back. We don't know how many Dreadlords were there.  I wouldn't guess more then two hundred.  And at least one of the forsaken.  The problem was that they came at us linked.  I was at Dumai's Wells, and I recall just how well you faired against a linked group.  We faced many circles, made up of Dreadlords with far more years of training than us.  Under the circumstances, I'd say we did better than could have been hoped for."

 

Tai blinked when the Dragon merely rubbed his jaw in thought.

 

"Died living up to a name? Bah, they should be making others do it instead. Years more training? So what? Let me tell you something Covai. Dying for your country, ideals, honour...it all means nothing in the end."

 

~Kill him, together you can do it! ~ Panted Chaos. This was no surprise, he always spoke of death, but the scramble for the Source was. Tai fought him down, terrified. If Chaos took control now...

 

"You make the shadow die for theirs. Thats how you fight them. I had expected you to know that." For a moment Tai had to think about what he was hearing in the Dragon's voice. Was that...disappointment?

 

The Dragon closed his eyes and shook his head as if making a decision. Suddenly he walked to the door and wove Air, sending them crashing open with a sound like thunder. Covai muttered and followed after him and Tai followed suit. He was not going to be left behind. They strode the halls in a hard silence and eventually entered what could only be the Heart of The Stone. The Lord of The Morning walked purposefully to the center of the room and Tai's eyes bulged. Callandor...Swinging it in a wide arc, the man fastened it to his back with what could only be an invisible flow. Tai blinked, how had he done that? Before he could think too hard on it, the Dragon Reborn spun, raising his hand and splitting the air. The black on the other side was absolute save the skimming platform. He had been taught the weaves but had never actually made one. Tai once again marveled at the Power this man held. His respect for the man returned slightly.

 

~Kill him! Take him now before he crushes usall! He blazes like the sun!~Howled Chaos once more. Tai thanked the Light he did not reach for the Source again.

 

"Hurry up now boys. It's time you all had some real training"

 

Tai glanced at Arath, real training? Despite himself he felt a thrill of excitement.

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Sereth released the source as the dragon stood, and berated Covai. Every moral fiber in him screamed that the Dragon was wrong, that dying for a cause was a noble death. The philosopher, and more so the emerging tactician were forced to agree with their savior. Still, something about the cold dismissal of their battle, and the holes in their abilities rankled to Sereth. This is a hard man... What will life be like when the entire world mobilizes for war under his banner? The thought didn't set well with the Asha'man.

 

When the Dragon opened the doors, he did what all those present did, and followed the Legend down the halls to the Heart of the Stone. Despite all that happened, a thread of excitement wormed its way deep into the man. To see all the place where so much had happened, the resting place of Callandor, what was reported to be the most powerful Sa'Angreal for males. Where a Forsaken fell, and the Dragon embraced his destiny... It took the void to keep a shiver from crawling down his spine.

 

The dragon approached the sword, and seized Saidin. Immediately Sereth knew just how outclassed he was. He wove all five elements effortlessly, seeming to unbind weaves that Sereth didn't know were there. But if the key was any indication as to the lock... Suddenly he felt very foolish at seizing Saidin in front of the man. The Dragon opened a skimming platform, and waved them in. Keeping a conscious eye on Callandor, Sereth took the initiative and stepped through the hole in reality.

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Martyn said nothing as he was ordered to follow, simply starting to walk along with the other Asha'men in the group as they walked deeper into the Stone, heading to areas that normally would have gotten him killed for trespassing regardless of his allegiance. And then, after an impossible amount of twists and turns that almost screamed they were made with the purpose to throw off any attackers, they reached the center. The Heart.

 

He watched Jarron wait a moment before resting his hand on the haft of a crystallic sword. Even while not holding the One Power he could sense it radiating from the sword, saidin in the Void reaching out for it if only he would fill himself with it. Gritting his teeth, he willed himself not to, mentally glaring at the accursed light that had dared intrude on his life.

 

Without it, he would have lived and died with his wife.

 

Without it, he would have seen his daughter grow.

 

But he had it, and he was intending to make the Dark One pay for that curse.

 

"Hurry up now boys. It's time you all had some real training"

 

He blinked, mind snapping back to the present from the battle against saidin he had been fighting. He noticed a black portal standing in front of them, and judging by its size it was obvious the Dragon intended for them to walk through it. Close behind Sereth, he walked through the hole in the air without a glance left or right. Long before oaths, long before allegiances, he had made a promise to himself that he would see this through to the end, and so he would.

 

 

Martyn Stonebridge

Determined.

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Simmen was roughly pushed out of his brooding by the door slamming into his back.

 

A man emerged, red-haired, tall. He was not wearing a black coat...Behind him, the other Asha'man came, following him as if drawn by strings.

The noise of their talk had ever grown louder towards the end. But Simmen couldn't make too much sense of what he had caught.

It didn't matter now, though. He followed along.

 

That must be the Dragon.

 

Somehow, he knew that as soon as the man threw open the door. He knew it as certain as a storm was black when the man, weaving the power in ways that Simmen could just describe as a shining beacon of light, drew out the sword in the middle of the room Simmen had entered the Stone through. It was the Sword That Was Not A Sword, known all-too well in Storm's End as well.

 

Dragon to cleanse, Dragon to break. Simmen knew he was in the middle of it all, now.

 

The Dragon channeled yet again. A hole opened in front of the man. Instead of a place, though, there was only...darkness.

"Hurry up now boys. It's time you all had some real training"

 

Simmen obeyed, together with the men around him. Who took the order quietly. Mostly. Some seemed torn between stopping right there, running away or something entirely else. Most just came along, in perfect silence.

 

Somehow, none of them would enter through the hole just now...For some reason, Simmen felt the suicidal urge to just step up and be the first.

 

...This is madder than the Pit already... For whatever reason, Simmen started to grin broadly. Two Asha'man, he thought they were his instructors Stonebridge and Sereth, were the first to be through, though. Simmen followed, forcing that which was him into the hole. The power tempting him in the void.

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