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DRAGONMOUNT

A WHEEL OF TIME COMMUNITY

Return of the Boogeyman


The Don

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The World of Dreams shifted as Peaten returned to its version of the Blight. Here there wasn't the scorching heat, or the deadly beasts, but it was dangerous enough still. In front of him, the Tower of the Black Dawn dominated the landscape. Far to the south lay the Mountains of Dhoom, but here there was only the Tower. For nearly two thousand years, the secrets of the Shadow lay hidden in it's halls. The Shar Mahdi Order had seen the Trolloc Wars, the War of One Hundred Years, and countless others... including local skirmishes between Trolloc tribes. Nowhere in the world, save the White Tower in Tar Valon, was there so many lost tomes and artifacts. And not even the White Tower maintained as much information in the martial realm. Weapons, rare even during the times they were created, were kept in the armories. One of which was the ashanderei, pretty much a staff with a sword blade at the end. There were some so simple, and some much more intricate. It was here that Peaten discovered his choice weapon, which dated back to the Trolloc Wars. He had trained with it mainly because it was not used by any other Shar Mahdi. It was an easy weapon to handle, being much like a simple quarterstaff in theory, but an extremely difficult one to master. It's lack of use, however, made it much harder also to defend against. Upon becoming Master of Combat, Peaten was allowed the distinct and rare honor of being one of the few humans ever to recieve a weapon forged in the Valley of Thakan'dar, on the slopes of Shayol Ghul itself. The ashanderei created there was a one of a kind masterpiece, which in all likelyhood would never be made again. When his mortal life ended (he was sure in this life he would never age, though he was just as sure he could still be killed), the weapon was taken by the one that had killed him. He knew where it was it was taken, but the exact location could only be guessed, and it would take him precious time to locate it by himself. The Last Battle was coming, the Nae'blis had assured him of that. Peaten was ready to be a leader in the Battle, but he needed his weapon first, and he knew the higher powers of the Shadow chaffed at having such a weapon in the keeping of it's enemies. He did not fear where he would have to go to retrieve it, only those who would punish him for not bringing it back.

 

The World shifted again and he was just miles north of where he needed to be. He was provided a sacrificial second body to return to the land of the living, though he rarely used it. The man was only of average height, compared to his origional six and a half foot frame. It was much thinner, though athletic enough for most situations. But it was not his. He had spent a lifetime forging his body into a fighting machine. In life, he was as strong as any man living, and lighting quick for a man of his bulk. He disliked having to switch bodies, but his killer could still be there and recognize him, he was a hard man to forget. Reluctantly he changed into his new body and stepped out into the waking world...

 

... where the White Tower itself stood high above the Shining Walls of Tar Valon.

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