Taking the Storm Into Hand (Open. Feel free to welcome me, anyone. *shrugs*)

[Wayward_fool]

Night covered the land, softening the harsh structures of buildings, caressing their walls with soft fingers of mist. The moon shone brightly, but failed to drive away the shadows that had invaded the hearts of the people living in the land. Of late, it was said to be better buried below ground than walking alive on it. Tar'mon Gai'don was a very real story, like one of the legends coming to life. There was a mute stillness in the air. An anticipation.

 

A slash appeared in the air, slowly rotating until a Gateway appeared.

 

Snow billowed in through the hole in the air, and on a tall, black stallion rode a man covered with the shadows themselves. His face was impassive, hidden beneath the hood of his cape. But cold death seemed to emanate from every fibre of his being. There was danger in this man, tightly controlled and absolutely chaos when unleashed.

 

His name was Skechid. On his collars he wore two pins. A sword. And a dragon. And on his sleeve embroidered twin lightnings all the way up to his shoulders. The ring on his finger seemed to glow, but that could have been from the sunlight streaming from inside the hole. And sure enough, as the Gateway disappeared so did the ring seem to return to normal. But there was no lessening of the danger in the air. It permeated the atmosphere like a deep bass note, and yet it was so still. So cold. So dead.

 

The stallion pawed the ground impatiently, eager to move on. The night was not young, and even as the mere seconds passed, the feeling of anticipation did not.

 

“Patience, Groundbreaker.” The voice was calm, but in the way corpses were calm. “It would not do to blunder into the many dangers the Tower has in store for us. That would not be the kind of welcome I’d be happy with.”

 

That seemed to calm the stallion somewhat. But not for long. Rider and man stood still for another moment, and began moving again. Underbrush scratched against the man’s cloak but he ignored it. He seemed not to be there at all, a void in the space that he occupied.

 

“Halt.” A voice rang out in the dark. There would be no sight of the man who made the call of course. It was to be expected.

 

“I am Skechid Aran Teobon. And I come to see the M’hael.”

 

“And what intention do you have?”

 

Skechid lowered his hood, twin pins instantly visible. “I have things to discuss with the M’hael. And if your eyes do not fail you, you may regard my rank as Asha’man.” He was sure his rank of Storm Leader had long since expired. Good. There was no need for that foolishness anymore. “Show yourself and receive me. I have no patience for this witty banter.”

 

A shadow moved. Skechid’s eyes flashed briefly but returned to their iciness as it revealed itself to be a curly haired youth with a pretty face, dressed fully in black. “Forgive me Asha’man Skechid. There are too many things that could harm us these days.”

 

“Harm the Black Tower?” Skechid chuckled. “Has the Black Tower weakened so much? Would any army dare challenge even ten Asha’man? My emissaries tell me even the White Tower has its apprehensions. What mad man would dare breach the perimeters?” Skechid regarded the man. There was still innocence in those eyes. That would probably disappear as time went by. Skechid pulled his hood back up. “Cautiousness is one thing, young one, but unnecessary worry would harm the blood and weaken the resolve.  Announce me to the M’hael or whoever it is in charge at the moment. I do not know if my old room is still vacant, but I would like to settle things as soon as possible and return to dreaming. Perhaps in the morning we can discuss further about your misgivings.”

 

“Yes, Asha’man. This way please.” The man saluted, fist to chest and began to lead the way.

 

And then they were gone.

 

[Arath Faringal]

Arath stifled a yawn as he began to pack away the various projects strewn over the desk in his office.  He should have gone to bed hours past, but he'd never been good at listening to his internal clock.  Besides, he could let himself sleep in a little.  He didn't have any responsibilities in the morning.  

 

In a surprisingly short time, all the various papers were filed away in whatever place seemed appropriate, and most of the ter'angreal he had been tinkering with had been stowed away.  Turning the last one over in his hands, Arath's mind began to wander again.  Maybe if he laced a touch of Earth into the Spirit matrix, it might stabilize the effects of-

 

A knock at the door drew him out of his contemplations.  Surpressing another yawn, he unceremoniously dumped the half finished ter'angreal into the drawer with the rest of them.  Tomorrow.  "Come," he called out as he siezed Saidin and quickly warded the drawer.  He supposed it was dangerous to channel so near the half finished things, but so far it hadn't hurt him.

 

A young dedicated poked his head around the corner of the door.  "Storm Leader?  There is a man here wanting to see the M'Hael.  An Asha'man Skechid Teobon.  He's dressed as a Storm Leader ..."

 

Arath blinked in surprise.  It had been a very long time since he had seen Skechid.  A very long time since anyone had seen him.  "Very well, send him in."  Making one last check on his ward, Arath released Saidin and relaxed back into his seat.  A few moments later the door swung open the rest of the way and the one time Storm Leader walked in.  Arath examined his guest for a moment.  It did indeed appear to be Skechid.  "Well then," Arath said in a friendly tone.  "What brings you back here after all this time?"

[Wayward_fool]

The buildings did not look anything like how Skechid had last seen them. but that was to be expected. The Black Tower was no longer the loose gathering of men it had once been. The smell of burnt wood and something putrid hung in the air. It was not a place one came to celebrate life. It embraced death like a mother's arms.

 

Skechid walked through the door and stared directly at the man that was apparently in charge of the place. His eyes wandered about the room and he could detect multiple wards settled at various places. The last he had seen Arath, the man had barely made it to Asha'man. And now, in charge of the Black Tower, was a man he had taught lessons to at one point. But it was no matter. People came and went. That was the way of life. His Eyes and Ears had mentioned something about a big change in the Tower but they would not be specific. And none of his House's could even come near to this place.

 

"The world moves towards Tar'mon Gai'don, Arath. And the news that I have heard disturbs me to say the least. I have come to offer my services. If you will have them.” Skechid removed a scroll from his sleeve. “I still have a network of Eyes and Ears in the world. Most of them are loyal to my House, but a few are privy to my identity as Asha’man. Which means they look out for those with the Dragon and Sword pins. And keep me informed of their actions. They served Dramon well. As they did for Dalinarius. And while Brent was too arrogant to use them, he occasionally requested for information. Which I provided freely of course.”

 

Skechid untied the strings of the scroll and rolled it out. “On this scroll is a timeline of events that have happened so far, or are happening. Including the madness that is the Black and White Tower alliance.” Skechid held up a hand as Arath moved to speak. “I understand the logic behind it, and I have my own contacts at the White Tower, but I do believe it will shake the very foundation of the world.” Skechid placed the opened scroll on Arath’s table. “You may consider this a trade of sorts. These reports have detailed versions that I can pass to you should you need them. But at this point in time, I would like to know what I can contribute.”

 

He took a deep breath. “I am back Arath. And I hope this time to stay.” He raised his fist to his chest. And saluted.

 

[Arath Faringal]

Arath quickly glanced over the scroll Skechid had unrolled before him.  It was ... thorough.  Though events occuring inside the Black Tower itself were mostly absent, it gave a decent sketch of what was occuring in the rest of the world.  It was all quite impressive.  Especially his knowledge of events with the White Tower.  "You're remarkably well informed Skechid.  No wonder the M'Hael's used you as they did.  Burn me if things wouldn't have been different these last few weeks if Brent had only been as wise.  I suspect he only asked for a tiny fraction of what you had to offer him."  And the light blinded fool had probably passed on only a fraction of what he recieved.  As far as Arath and the others had been able to determine, Brent had no spy network of his own.  He'd led the Black Tower blindly right up until his death.

 

"We're more than happy to have you back with us.  And if you're willing I would like you to resume your position as Spymaster."  Arath considered the scroll for a moment, then added, "Although maybe you should be caught up on events within the Tower first.  It might help fill in the few gaps here."

 

For the next several minutes, Arath explained what had been happening at the Farm.  The disasterous assault on the shadow's forces in Shienar.  Covai's meeting with the Dragon, and Jarron's subsequent visit to the Farm.  The Dragon's ultimatum to make binding peace with the Aes Sedai.  Brent's insanity, and death at the hands of Arath and Covai, and the formation of the Guardian Council, the group of seven Storm Leaders and fourteen Attack Leaders who now governed the Black Tower.

 

"So, there is no more M'Hael position," Arath concluded.  "The closest thing we have is Covai, but don't let him hear you say so.  He's adamant that he not be treated above the rest of us, even if the other Storm Leaders defer to him a little."  Looking back down at the scroll, Arath grinned.  "So how much of this did you already know?  And do you have any questions?"

[Wayward_fool]

"So, there is no more M'hael position." Skechid echoed this softly, his eyes betraying nothing. "No leader for a council of twenty one. And the White Tower on our doorsteps." Skechid closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His mind was a storm of confused thoughts. Burn me if this isn't going to be a tough ride ahead.

 

He touched the scroll in front of Arath. "I accept the position and I will defer to Covai's authority. I am not altogether pleased with this change in the Black Tower, but that might change with time. I assume this Council meets often. I would perhaps like to present these reports one of these days. It would probably help us gain an upper hand over the White Tower. As you know, they have a very extensive network. Far better than mine I am afraid. But I think I can work on that."

 

Skechid pulled up a chair and sat down. "I know there is work to be done. The recent history of the Black Tower would have weakened the resolve of many here. The White Tower never does anything without knowing that they will get something out of it. I am not convinced I understand that yet, but I am confident it will reveal itself sooner or later. Male channelers are a new book for the current Aes Sedai, which means they probably have little understanding of our workings. Let's keep that. Tar'mon Gai'don will be upon us sooner than we expect. And I guess there will be need for cooperation between the two towers." Skechid eyed Arath. "I understand what has been going on, but what are plans from this point on? And more importantly, what can I do?"

 

Skechid stayed silent, as Arath moved to speak. his mind already roiling with the possible outcomes of his next plans.

 

[Arath Faringal]

OOC:  11?  7 Storm and 14 Attack Leaders ... :D

 

"You'll have your chance to present this soon enough.  The Council does meet as often as we can.  The Storm Leaders at least.  And we DO have a leader.  Although there is no M'Hael exactly, the Council reports directly to the Lord Dragon.  We do as he commands, which is more than can be said for what happened under Brent's reign."

 

Arath leaned back into his chair and rubbed his eyes.  "We know the Last Battle is coming.  We fought the opening blows in Shienar, and we were woefully unprepared.  Two borderland nations fell because of it.  Do you have any idea what kind of force would be necessary to slaughter a full hundred of our men?  It took the dreadlords less than half an hour to do just that.  The circles are what killed us.  Circles are why we need the White Tower.

 

"Right now, the plan is to foster cooperation and trust between the two towers.  Learn how to fight alongside each other rather than against one another.  Try to regain some of what has been lost for so long.  Bonding was the best way to achieve this quickly, even if many on either side don't like it.  I still don't know what the Aes Sedai are hoping to get out of the deal, but the Red Ajah was quick to offer up one of their own Sitter's to be bonded by one of us."  Arath shook his head.  It still didn't make sense to him, but he didn't believe they had an immediate need to worry about the Reds.  

 

"As for what you can do, well ... you probably know far better than I do.  What exactly was it you did before you left?"

[Wayward_fool]

OOC: Sorry, I read fourteen as four. *lol* Editted.

 

Before he left? Skechid sighed. That was a long time ago. A very, very long time ago.

 

"The Wheel weaves and the Wheel wills." Skechid said, wearily. "There was a time when the Black Tower fought for its own existence. And I fought along it. I was the Head of its Eyes and Ears. I wove my networks throughout the Nobles of the world, fighting to keep our existence a secret and yet having our influence on the world. They might not have danced for us as they do for the White Tower, but they walked where we wished and fought the battles we wanted them to fight. That was a force to be reckoned with." Skechid waved his hand over the scroll. "These days all I do is gather information. But back then, my networks would work their way into the highest of the high and be the driving force behind some of the strongest Houses. This information was only privy to those who sat on the Council. As far as the rest of the Black Tower was concerned, this was not of their business. But Dramon, the M'hael then, used my networks to direct much of what happened in the world. You would be shocked to know how deeply we were involved in the changes in the world. All that, to set the path for the Dragon's destiny in the world."

 

Skechid leaned back. Perhaps he should not mention the next part, but he had an allegiance now and had no choice. "I was also co-Master of the Infirmary with M'hael Dalinarius. We had our offices in the Infirmary and worked our Healing on the worst of the injuries. I have no desire to dwell on that anymore. I assume you have your Healers now. I do not wish to have a part in that any longer." Arath raised a brow at this, but Skechid brushed it aside. "In addition, as you know, I sat on the Inner Council under Dramon and Dalinarius. A Storm Leader who led a contingent in many a battle." Skechid brushed his lightning embroidered sleeves absently. "But that was another life. Another time. Possibly another place. And I am back anew. Which means you can use me as you see fit."

 

Skechid shrugged. "There as far too many things happening at once. And I do not know where I can fit in. What do you wish of me?"

 

[Arath Faringal]

Listening thoughtfully, Arath considered what Skechid told him.  Strange that the man no longer wanted part of healing others.  By all accounts, the man had been very good at it.  Though he was correct in his assumption that a new generation of healers had come up.  It did raise the question of what to do with him though.

 

"To start, I want you to reacquaint yourself with the Tower grounds, and the Asha'man.  I'm sure things have changed quite drastically in your absence.  Even after losses in Shienar we have well over a thousand men here.  More pour in every week.  Many of them have been trained hearing the legends of the previous leaders.  Ragnar, Andar, Koras ... I've even heard one or two about yourself in the infirmary.  You can do much to strengthen moral.  And a man of your experience would be invaluable on the training grounds."

 

Arath rubbed at his chin for a moment.  "I'll need to speak with the rest of the Storm Leaders about your rank, but at this time there are no openings on the Council.  You'll likely be returned to the rank of Asha'man, though if you're willing you will probably be first for consideration should a spot open up."

[Wayward_fool]

Skechid nearly laughed at Arath's last statement. A position on the council? Burn me. "I fear you misunderstand Arath. I am not here to ask for power or position. That I have aplenty. I am no pet dog that begs for scraps at the master's table." Skechid leaned back. "I feel no rush to sit on your council, so feel free to promote others before me." Skechid shrugged. "A position in the council means little to me, nor does any additional rank. I feel perfectly comfortable being an Asha'man, until there is need for me."

 

"My Talent with Healing, I would prefer to keep hidden. So I would appreciate if you would not let the others know. As far as any one else is concerned, there is nothing special about my return. Only that someone who was once part of the Black Tower has returned to aid the Tower in this time of need. If you do not wish to reveal my name, so be it. I can even take on a different identity should you require. There is no need for whispers of who I used to be or the kind of legends I conjured up." Skechid smiled, it never touched his eyes. Very disconcerting. "If you have no need for me, I will return to my room. It is late, and you should rest, or continue that project of your's. I think it would greatly aid the Tower."

 

Skechid rose and saluted, fist to chest. "Let me know if you need me. Otherwise, I would prefer not to get in your way." With that, he retreated out the door.