Laman's Legacy - Sons & Daughters

[Wayfarer]

"Another pair have arrived."

 

Nodding at Luc, Reynard didn't have to look up as Luc went and took a seat.  They had been in Cairhien for two weeks and it was only in the last week that Reynard had been ready to allow the Sons of Cairhien to begin ambushing Aiel patrols in the night.  The Rogues had quickly assisted in this, partitioning areas and opening communication to their group to make sure they didn't overlap.  The meeting with Aventari had been...  well, Reynard knew of the man as did most High Seats even if they had never met him, he couldn't say he would be keen to repeat the experience.  Not that the man wasn't polite, but being in the presence of a killer that had been a known name in the city for twenty years and was giving orders in the Rogues Guild was an uneasy thing at best.

 

Co-operation had been good nonetheless.  Between their groups, and the independent actions of smaller groups, they had been whittling away at the Aiel quite effectively.  All they had to do was pick the right places to ambush and never use the same places twice.  Likewise they kept moving their meeting places, by keeping mobile it would make it difficult for the Aiel to track them down.  Not impossible, but they'd make it as difficult as they could and people weren't to carry their own weapons.  Weapons and the like were provided for them at each safehouse and then they were returned and hidden once again only to be moved to another location.

 

The current base of operations was a home in the merchants quarter.  Made available by one of the members for use, his family had been moved elsewhere for the night while they conducted their business there.  It was defensible enough, and furthermore the cellar was perfect for organising themselves and storing their weaponry.  Those that arrived came down and armed themselves before heading back upstairs, adding to the guard in case any attack came.  While Reynard was confident, he also knew that there was a good chance the Aiel would find them.  He had almost been uprooted a few times during the last campaign he had fought against the Aiel.  Then again, back then he had nothing left to lose, now he had something to gain.

 

"When should we begin?"

 

Looking to Raina, Reynard nodded and smiled slightly.  "Soon, we shall give another half hour for people to arrive and then we will hand out assignments for the night.  You don't need to be here you know."

 

"I won't ask people to take risks I won't, otherwise why should they?"

 

Looking at Raina, Reynard nodded again at her and returned to the papers on the table before him.  She was right, but nevertheless it disconcerted him.  At least she was getting along with Luc if nothing else, his family's existance was assured as long as Luc survived, but he would prefer his marriage to be happy if possible.  Light so help him, he'd see his family survive and to the Pit of the Doom with the savages that had ravaged his family.

 

But, his mind was wandering, it was to the papers and plans he returned to, calculating what their forces could achieve.  Forty strong and growing, they would be able to take a couple of patrols if they planned it right.  Crossbows were the key, shooting them from the darkness and then bringing blades to bear if they tried to escape.  Different from how the Rogues handled it, but just as effective.  Hand to hand, the Aiel warrior was usually better, so all they needed to do was play to their own advantages and they could win time and time again.  So long as they remained hidden.

 

 

Reynard Alnaeu

High Seat

 

 

OOC:  Aiel players, you're on the rooftops and such and observing people coming in.  Sons of Cairhien people, you're arriving or already there, arming up and whatnot.

 

Important note for both sides, try to use these posts before the action starts to show how your character feels about the other side, why you are fighting etc.  Do you just hate the treekillers blindly or did they kill a companion of yours?  Did the Aiel kill some of your family/friends or because of the hatred spawned by having been invaded a bit over twenty years earlier?  Or are you there for other reasons?  At anyrate, have fun with it, then we'll go to action.

[Kael]

Davian's eyes were alight with glee as he watched from a rooftop these treekillers goign to and from a house. He knew there would be dancing today, whether by orders from higher up or by his own. The death of Aiel in the city had been increasing and one or more of the men inside that house would die today. If h didn't have the right to Dance outright, then tonight would be his first kill alone. He needed to feel the warm blood on his spear, see the light fade from someone's eyes. And the restraint he was feeling from the cheif and Car'a'carn was only making him want to strike out more.

 

Even as Society Leader he was not listened to when he spoke out against this weak treatment of the wet landers. If you were not Aiel you did not deserve to live, and Davian was all to ready to give them their violent end. Though even he had to refrain from speaking the true depth of his fantasies, those he encountered would not die quick.

 

His viel was already up as he crouchted lower to the roof, his few fellow Seia Doon around him. Do we strike? His second's fingers flashed towards him. No, wait. Silent His fingers answered back. It would come soon.

 

Davian's mind filled with his sociopathic and murderous thoughts as he waited, his former stoic nature had fled him entirely and now he lived for the kill, lived for the blood. Until the day he could no longer Dance by the spear of his enemies or that of old age. His black eyes, painted over with his precious dried gara blood, gazed intently at the pairs and trios going into the house. His blood stirred as his mad eyes gazed foreward, as black as the heart that beat in his chest.

 

 

Davian

Seia Doon SL

[Guest Egwene]

“Light! I hope they didn’t see me…” he muttered under his breath as he quickly turned a corner. The last thing he needed was to be held up and questioned by one of the night patrols. They would surely have noticed how fast his pulse was racing, the slight bead of sweat on his forehead never mind that he probably would have stuttered.

 

Hanes had a quick look back over his shoulder… the patrol was nowhere in sight… obviously had carried on down the main street. He slowly breathed out... realizing that he had held his breath from the moment he had spotted them coming around the far corner of Baker’s Row. Thank the Light that he knew this part of town fairly well, and it didn’t take him long to get to his destination by another route.

 

He nearly fumbled the knocking code, he was so nervous. A quick look up and down the street showed no Aiel in sight… and yet, he couldn’t get rid of the feeling of being watched.

 

“Are you looking for someone?” the tall, blond man in the door asked quietly.

 

“My friend, Amavi”

 

“Come on in” The door closed behind him. “I take it no one followed you?”

 

“No, though I met a patrol down Baker’s Row.” Hanes considered telling the man about the feeling of being watched, but… no, he didn’t want to be called paranoid. After all, this was only his third meeting and from what Timith had hinted, he might be meeting some high ranking members of the Sons tonight.

 

As he followed his guide to the back of the building, Hanes thought about just how completely his life had changed over the space of only a couple of weeks. His life had been so pointless since his son had run off to join the Hunt…seeing that young girl stripped and beaten by the Aiel…just thinking back to it made his blood boil and the memories well up. She had looked so much like he imagined his daughter would look now… had she lived. He quickly rubbed his eyes… no, he didn’t want to think about it… better concentrate on the present.

 

“This way.” The cellar was low and slightly damp and obviously not normally full of weapons. Hanes picked his usual… a quarterstaff… at least he was somewhat familiar with it from his time on the farm. Following his guide back up, he briefly wondered if after all these years he would remember how to use it.

 

Hanes Marwhin

Joiner

[Myth]

Motionless as a statue behind his veil except for his eyes, Cor calmly waited for the signal to attack as he surveyed the night and those who moved through it from his perch on the rooftop. Until then there was nothing to do but think.

 

He wasn’t sure what had led them to this point. The Aiel belonged in the Threefold Land, but the Car’a’carn needed them to fight the Shadow. Which meant that his people had to leave what the wetlanders called the Waste, and what the Aiel called home. Now they were here in the land of the oathbreakers, trying to help them and being hated for it.

 

To an extent the young Stone Dog could understand the Treekillers’ frustrations. The Aiel were a foreign nation holding power over the Cairheinin homeland, which certainly was bitter medicine for the Treekillers to swallow. He certainly wouldn’t have liked it if their situations had been reversed. But at the same time, the Car’a’carn had made it abundantly clear that the Aiel were here only to protect and serve, not to invade and conquer. This certainly wasn’t what most Aiel would have done, had the Chief of Chiefs not demanded it. Cairhein’s streets would have been empty but for the wind, had most of his countrymen had their way.

 

But the Aiel were loyal to the man from the Two Rivers, even if they didn’t like his commands or even understand them. Which was why they were here tonight, perched on rooftops instead of destroying the enemy that lay in their path.

 

The Cairheinin had let their hatred and fear of the Aiel blind them to the reality of the situation. They refused to see that just a small remnant of the Aiel camped outside their city’s walls was capable of running through their defenses like a spear through silk. If they had wanted to, no Treekillers would have survived a day, but the Cairheinin refused to see it. Instead, they rallied behind the banner of murderers and thieves, the so-called Rogues Guild, and defied the Car’a’carn’s wishes. They struck at the very people who had saved them, and expected the Aiel to run. It seemed they had learned nothing from their history.

 

At first, the Aiel had done nothing when some of their people had been killed. In the dance, some woke from the dream. It was the way of things. But when that fool had made his defiant announcement and shamed the Car’a’carn, it took all the chiefs’ willpower for the Aiel not to wipe out the oathbreakers for once and for all. But when the Chief of Chiefs spoke, he continued to insist on mercy toward the Treekillers. Only those caught in the act could be punished. It made for a bloody, nasty mess that left the Aiel fighting with both hands virtually tied behind their backs.

 

Patrols of Red Shields, not used to being stabbed in the back by those they were serving while keeping the peace, had suffered brutally in the following nights. The Rogues Guild was too fearful and too smart to fight in the open of course, but they repeatedly struck from the shadows then disappeared back among the citizenry before the Aiel could retaliate. So Cor Darei warriors had been sprinkled among the Aethan Dor patrols to help. No one fought better after the sun went down than the Night Spears, but even Rahul’s society hadn’t been enough to stem the violence completely.

 

So here he was with his Shae’en M’taal. Although not as specialized at night fighting as the Night Spears, Cor’s Stone Dog spear brothers were the best overall fighters among the Aiel. Along with some Knife Hands, Black Eyes, Maidens, and others, they were here to try and bring an end to this uprising. Tonight.

 

He just wished it hadn’t come to this, because the Shadow was looming. They should readying for the dance with Sightblinder. Cor didn’t have the personal enmity toward the Treekillers that most Aiel did. In fact, he had met a handful of wetlanders that were more than likeable, but when it came time to dance he knew his spears would be at the forefront slaying his people’s enemies.

 

Aiel before all.

[Ghaul]

High on the rooftops, invisible to all, the Aiel stood and watch as one by one the treekillers gathered. Just waiting and watching. That is what Ghaul did too. It was two weeks since the attacks on the Aethan Dor patrols began, and the first few days there was confussion. Now the Aiel fought back, and with a vengance. Unbeknown to the treekillers, their ambush groups were being watched. Not even other Aiel could see a Cor Darei or Seia Doon when they were hiding at night, and it was from those two societies that they now had information of the so called Sons of Cairhien.

 

Ghaul turned his attention to the side for a bit. Had things been left to the Aiel, the city of Cairhien will have been reduced to smoking ruins long time ago. The Car'a'carn forbid it though. No innocent were to be harmed, though Ghaul seriously doubted that there was even one innocent in Cairhien. Hatred ran deep and every treekiller was glad to help out to get rid of the Aiel, which was not surprising it the least. What was surprising for Ghaul, was that the treekillers kept insistic that Aiel were infirior. Well is they were indeed as superior as they claimed to be, why was it Aiel ruled over Cairhien? After all, according to their own boasting, one Cairhienian was worth tens of Aiel. Well, since that way of thinking was actually working in the Aiel favour, Ghaul was not about to complain. After all, why interupt your enemy while he is making a mistake? Enemy, that word described perfectly how Ghaul felt about the Cairhienians - an enemy, as any else he had faced so far in his life. Oathbrakers and treekillers, Cairhienians have earned Aiel hatred, and have had their land devasted by the Aiel twice. Ghaul however could not say he hated them, no they were just enemies amongst them, one the Car'a'carn has ordered him to root out, and he would do just that. What happened to the rest of them - well Ghaul did not care. As long as they did not go against the Car'a'carn, they can live their lifes as they saw fit.

 

The Aiel stood and waited, as the number of people entering the house now grew to 35. According to reports, the Sons of Cairhien were 40. Once that number was gathered, the Aiel would wait just a little bit longer, in case of new recruits, and then attack.

 

 

Ghaul

[Guest Estel]

A traffic jam when you're already late

A no-smoking sign on your cigarette break

It's like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife

It's meeting the man of my dreams

And then meeting his beautiful wife

And isn't it ironic...don't you think

A little too ironic...and, yeah, I really do think...

 

It's like rain on your wedding day

It's a free ride when you've already paid

It's the good advice that you just didn't take

Who would've thought... it figures

(Ironic- Alanis Morissette)

 

While irony can be incredibly cruel, it is usually amusing in its own bitter, twisted way. Alianna reflected on that as she crept down empty, shadowed streets. Not that creeping down streets at night was anything new to the middle-aged former thief catcher, rather, it was the purpose for which she used her stealth. The Creator definitely had a twisted sense of humour. Two years ago, she wouldn’t have though she would be in Cairhien while the city began to burn with the fires of passion and patriotism. Two years ago, she would have bashed in the skull of the first idiot who dared tell her that the future would see her joining a Cairhienin rebel force allied with the local guild of thieves. She was a thief catcher for Light’s sake!

 

Irony seemed to be a recurring theme in these last few weeks. Not long ago, she had been entering the city in pursuit of an assassin, only to find herself talking with a handsome Aielman who had taken an interest in the matter. Of course, a week later had seen her in the company of the same thief and Aielman. Dominik would have died of shock- would have if her weren’t already blissfully dead in the ruins of Chachin- had he heard that she had attacked the stunned Aielman to save the thief’s life. And why did the Creator find it so damn amusing to set her up in the middle of an entire gang of thieves, assassins, whores, murderers, rapists and every other lowlife wreaking violence across the Foregate and in the city proper?

 

‘My apologies, dear Creator, if I am supposed to be laughing hysterically. For some reason I don’t find the affair funny in the least.’ Surely bitter laughter in retrospect didn’t count.

 

In any case, those were the events which led her an unfamiliar door in the merchant’s quarters, dressed as a merchant of moderate accomplishments.

 

“What is your business?” said the blonde guard at the door.

 

“Amavi invited me for his dinner party.” She was allowed to enter and the door was hastily secured as soon as she was out of its path.

 

“You are alone?” Alianna nodded in reply. This seemed to pacify the tall, blonde guard and she was ushered into the armoury. Searching among the weapons, she chose a long-shafted spear that was close in size and weight with her quarterstaff. The metal blade at the end created an unfamiliar drag in that end when she used the spear as a staff but she figured a spear would serve her better than just a staff.

 

Her weaponry chosen, she joined the rest in another room, noting that the better part of the gathered assembly seemed to be nobility.

 

 

Alianna Karalev

Former Theif Catcher

Sons of Cairhien Recruit

[Wayfarer]

Pushing little children!

With their fully automatics!

They like to push the weak around!

- Deer Dance, System of a Down

 

 

It was perhaps half an hour after Hanes had arrived till the meeting was begun. A goodly forty in all, all of them armed or arming themselves from the cellar below and those that were in the main room were turning their attention to their leader, the Lady Dulcei. Standing at her side was Lord Alneau, their commander and the man who not only organised their raids but usually led them himself. For Cairhien, Hanes had come to realise he would lay down his life and it was because of these two that he did so. Lady Dulcei who gave their hearts hope that they didn't fight in vain, Lord Alneau who saw to it that they would live out the night so that they could repeat their feats the next night.

 

As Lady Dulcei began to address those that were new as well as those that were old hands, Hanes settled down by the door on a stool so he could listen even as he relieved Luc. It was similar to the words she had spoken on other nights, but they weren't any less important for that. It was sort of like the things one heard in gleeman's tales, but this was all the more real. Their lives were on the line and this Lady Dulcei didn't take it for granted. She reminded them of why they fought, every night he heard her speak he remembered what his purpose was and why he did what he did anew. He remembered seeing a woman, no more than a girl, stripped and beaten until she could no longer move. He, along with others, had carried her away afterward to a Reader to be cared for and all the while and even now all he could think of was that it could have been his daughter if she had lived, those bruises and welts could have marked his daughter's body.

 

So focused on the scene within his mind and Lady Dulcei's words, he didn't hear the knock at the door until it was repeated. Shaking his head slightly, he opened the spyhole and saw a blond man whose face filled his view. Didn't look Cairhienin, but then neither did Luc who he'd just relieved.

 

"Whats your business?"

 

"Amavi wanted to see me."

 

His eyes widenning at the accent that he recognised, Hanes didn't even get a chance to call the alarm as the door flew off its hinges and knocked him over as black veiled savages charged over him. Having lost his stave as he'd been bowled over, he freed a dagger and lashed out, sinking it in someone's leg before something sank itself in his chest in turn. Looking up at the one who stabbed him, the strength faded from his limbs as the spear slipped free, blood filling the passage it had carved.

 

His lifesblood choking his fading breath, it was fury at those who had slain him that mingled with his fear of death. Yet, his last consolation as his thread snapped was that although he died, Cairhien would be free...

 

* * * * *

 

God save us!

This new life, has brought us, this new knife

Tu control! Tu color! It's our turn! We will BURN!!

 

I! AM! what you despise!

How can I be oppressed and then confess?!

The strength will rise!

Everything that I do burns against you!!

- God Save Us, Ill Nino

 

 

"PUSH THEM BACK!!"

 

His heron marked blade freed from its sheath even as he stepped before Lady Dulcei, Reynard Alneau knew already from the situation that the fight was lost. Even as the Cairhienin pushed forward, the weight of their numbers wasn't enough as the Aiel pushed into the large room. Their faces veiled by their dark scarves, their shoufa, their spears made quick work of those who had more enthusiasm than skill which allowed them to drive into the room, seperating them from the cellar where several were fighting while others escaped below. Unable to see his son, he hoped for the best as he waded forward to fill a gap that had been made in the line.

 

Older he might have been but his swordhand was as steady as it had been as a younger man and he was no stranger to Aiel spears. Grabbing the spear with his left hand and yanking it to one side, his sword slid under the murderer's buckler and slid cleanly in and out of the ribs to leave a corpse in the wake of its passing. Reversing the grip on his newly acquired spear, there was no thought for defence as he leaped into the Aiel. He was already dead, that acceptance gave him something his enemies lacked, the reckless bravery of the cornered rat who would sell himself dearly.

 

The Falling Leaf a prelude to Twisting in Wind, spear and blade lashed out with impunity to steal whatever life was in reach with an aggression that had no room for defence. Of the ten seconds his assault lasted, half a dozen laid dead on the floor and others were wounded by his hand while others who were distracted by his assault were taken advantage of by those who fought them. But even as his blade buried itself in an Aiel's throat, pain erupted in his left thigh as a spear punched through it. Falling to the ground even as he cried out, it changed to a scream of defiance as he lashed out with his blade again, shearing through one man's shin and leaving a second's fate dangling by but a piece of flesh before the blade was kicked from his hand and his arm pierced by a second spear.

 

The pain overwhelming his senses, he was only able to feel the rumble that shook the house. The escape tunnel had been collapsed, hopefully taking a few of those lanky bastards with them. Breathing heavily, he tried to master his pain and fight the urge to slip into darkness...

 

* * * * *

 

I've heard all your whining

All this talk behind my back

The time is coming

The time is now for our attack

A new sun rising

A new one in your world of black

Dont try to stop this

You will break like glass

 

Move over son

Your time is done

The weak are trapped under our feet

The city's gone

We see you run

Cause you can't take our heat

- We Are Godzilla You Are Japan, Lostprophets

 

 

The time had come, shifting from their positions up in the rooftops the Aiel began to make their way to the street level with Adeline among them. Like ghosts they drifted across the cobblestones without a sound as they took up their positions around the house. Every window and escape covered, these murderers and cutthroats would have no escape.

 

It was one thing to for an Aiel to die in battle if he had been bested, but these Treekillers like their forefathers had no honour. Like thieves and assassins they would strike in the night, ambushing the Aiel patrols and then they would melt amongst their fellow Cairhienin, impossible to separate. They used those who were innocent, as much as a Treekiller could be, as shields and shelter to hide from retribution. What was worse was the Treekillers that were innocent refused to point them out, playing dumb and one could not know who knew something and who did not for sure.

 

It ended here, and as she formed up amongst those who were to storm the front door, she gripped her spear tightly in reassurance as she focused on the moment. Someone she did not know stood at the door and after a bare exchange the door was knocked off its hinges and the dance began as they poured into the building even as those inside rallied.

 

Following the press towards a cellar, she allowed herself to slip out of it and towards a dwarf who was quickly trying to recock his crossbow. He stood little chance as her spear opened his throat to allow his lifesblood to mingle with the floorboards underfoot. As she turned and made her way towards the cellar, the ground shook a little and dust spewed from the cellar opening.

 

Racing towards it, she took the steps two at a time with others at her back only to feel like screaming in rage. Some had escaped. A tunnel must have been here alongside the small armoury that had since been knocked from their racks. Out of the fallen rubble, only a single Aiel was to be seen whose legs were caught underneath the rockfall. Ripping her shoufa from her face as she dropped her spear, she ran to his side and did her best to clear the debris as did others who joined her...

 

 

OOC: Ok, its been quite awhile and losing posts didn't help, but we can do this :) Whats happened basically is this. Aiel have charged into the building and while most have fallen quickly to them, sprinkled amongst the Treekillers are some skilled soldiers and blademasters that are putting up much stiffer resistance. Of those on the ground floor, Reynald and Lady Dulcei are to most certainly be taken prisoner, maybe a couple of others. Rest are killed.

 

Luc along with a few others managed to escape through the cellar tunnel which was then collapsed on the pursuing Aiel. If you're Freelander and don't want to be taken prisoner, escape with Luc. If you want to be taken prisoner, stay on ground floor with Reynald and Lady Dulcei.

 

Aiel, do your thing with the spears and the Treekiller stabbing :) Once the fight is ended, the prisoners will be hauled off for questioning and that'll be the end of this phase.

[Kael]

Davian was smiling as Ghaul raised his hand, an evil glint in his eye as the prospect of bloodshed loomed in the near future. He rose, vieled and his eyes black with his precious snake blood, were cold as ice. Only his blood sang, calling to the blood he was about to spill. He was among the first to burst through the front door when a cheer rang from the building inside, a cheer to match the glee Davian was feeling.

 

It was predetermined that Davian would not follow the order to only capture, anyone he encountered in this room was fair game to be killed and if asked about it...wetlanders always seemed to have weapons they didn’t know how to use but tried anyways. His spears would be bathed in the sweet red liquid of his enemies as he Danced this day. His first spear left his hand almost immediately towards the group of men trying to flee, along with a few of his brothers spears as well.

 

His eyes glowed as he watched the spear sink into a man’s shoulder, he staggered but kept moving...lucky enough for the man he was out of the exit before the bodies of his comrades were able to keep him from getting out fast enough. Davian’s only consolidation was now he would probably die slow and painfully unless he found some sort of medical attention soon. Pity.

 

Another spear was hefted from behind Davian as he walked into the Dance. He was grinning beneath his viel, his heart leaping as his spear began to glow with the reflecting light from the slickness of his spear. His brown clothes were mixed with the blood of the men around him as his spear found flesh, man and woman alike.

 

All too soon the battle was ending, the only sounds left the sweet harmony of the screams of men wounded and dieing. Daivan felt like hanging his head back and laughing. This was what he lived for, the hunt and the kill. The blood flecked over his clothing and a bit on his blackened face, he reveled in the warm feeling.

 

He heard more than saw the movement behind him. One of the wetlanders trying to rise and flee during the lull after the battle. Daivan turned and watched as the man moved until he was close to the wall. His spear left his hand and penetrated the man’s shoulder clear through until he was pinned to the wall. The world was closed except only him and the man in front of him. He drew his small belt knife and walked slowly towards the terrified man, watching closely the look of his face as it was replaced by only primal terror, his own blood flowing down his side. Davian ever so slowly placed the dagger above the man’s chest and eased it in just as slowly. He smiled.

 

Davian turned and walked back to towards the middle of the room, stopping above another treekiller who was slowly dieing. He casually planted his spear in the man’s side and quickened his passing and then slowly sat on the now corpse’s side. And just as casually he began to clean the edge of his dagger. It was a good day.

 

 

Davian

[TaeaDawn]

The attack had been sudden and without warning. Raina Dulcei had been warned many times that this could happen. Reynard Alneau had asked on more than one occassion that she stop her speeches and keep herself from these meetings but she had been unable to. Tonight as she saw the Aiel bust through the doors as she spoke, she wished she had listened. If she had, perhaps she could have kept Luc away as well.

 

She had been in the middle of her speech when the Aiel had come, stopping her mid-word as she shouted out a warning as she saw the Aiel coming through the door. Lord Alneau was at her side and as the attack began he charged in. She might have lost her courage then as he dove into the fight, might have turned to flee, but she had to find Luc. Tears stung her eyes as she tried to block out the sound of metal on metal, or worse, metal through flesh, but there was nothing she could do to remove the sound or visions that she surrounded her. She could only try to forget them later, forget that she sent men into this every night and gave them little more than brave words.

 

She saw Luc then on the other side but only for a moment before she lost him in the masses. In any other room she was able to point him out with ease, but among the Aiel that were soaking the floors in blood half way across the room already his height and coloring meant nothing. "Luc!" she shouted trying to find him again. Light she hoped he was running. Please, light, let someone be smart enough to take him away!

 

She stopped suddenly, unsure of why the room was suddenly getting darker, nor why she was falling. Her fall stopped and she found herself on her hands and knees. As she got to her knees, she looked at her blood soaked hands saw the blood on her dress, the blood of her people dieing around her. Anger filled her and she reached for the long knifes of the man that had fallen beside her only to find the room spun as she tried to stand. She never made it completely to her feet, but fell back to the floor, unconscious.

 

((Anyone want to be the lucky taker? Aiel or friendly fire? She's been knocked on the head at least... :P I don't care if she's hurt as long as it's not permanent... and come along anyone else who wants to be captive :P)

[Guest Estel]

Spending the better part of her time dealing with thieves and worse sorts of criminals, Alianna had developed a wariness, not quite paranoia, that usually cam hand-in-hand with her trade. Instinctively, the former thief catcher had situated herself as far from the door to the outside as possible and as near the alternate exit as she could be while still maintaining a good view of the street entrance. This was perhaps the only thing that stood between herself and death or capture that night.

 

Such was her position, that she was one of the first to see their guard, Hanes though she would only learn the name after the evening was all over, go down with an Aiel spear through his belly. She leapt to her feet in the middle of Lady Dulcie’s speech, gripping her spear with both hands and screaming “Aiel! Run for it!”

 

If Alianna had been a bit calmer, she would have gave a tongue-lashing to the fools who turned to fight. There were already a great many Aiel in the house and more waiting in the door to be let in. While the cramped quarters hindered their spear-work, most of the Sons of Cairhien were armoured in quarterstaves, long-handled spears and bows- none of which were ideal weapons with such little room to manoeuvre. Therefore, most of the fighting dealt in knives and quick hands. Rather than the heavy clang of steel-on-steel that she remembered from the Caemlyn Carnival, there was far less steel and far more screaming. Even if numbers hadn’t been an issue, Alianna knew that every one of those veiled giants were professional, trained warriors who made easy work of the lazy nobles and riff-raff only lately taken to weapons of war.

 

She was moving towards the exit, spear gripped tightly, only moments after the Aiel broke through the door. Quick as she was, though, the Aiel were quicker as she knew they would be. In each of their veiled faces, she saw Cor and winced. ‘Blood and ashes, I don’t want to hurt Cor… it’s not his fault.’

 

Only a few feet from the exit, she stood face-to-face… actually, face-to-chest, with a massive Aielman. Nervously, she gripped her spear, holding it as she would her quarterstaff.

[Myth]

Spears left thin red lines mapping the Aiel’s course through the waste of wetlander bodies.

 

Some Aiel preferred their long knives in the close quarter fighting, but regardless their weapon of choice, the tall veiled warriors were silent flowing death in shades of brown and grey in an otherwise chaotic cacophony of screams and vivid spurts of scarlet. Even the handful of Aiel who perished on wetlander weapons died quietly. But aside from the couple of skilled swordsmen, the futility of the Treekillers’ defense was proven by the rapidly growing number of dead.

 

Cor was in the vanguard of the attack.

 

He towered over all but a few of the gathered rebels, but so far none had matched his steel. Despite his size, he was a ghostly apparition of doom ushering adversaries into the afterlife. Cold blue eyes over a black veil was the silent face of death.

 

The only sound he made was the crunch of breaking bones and the silken kiss of steel into flesh when a wetlander chose to pull steel in defiance and wake from the dream rather than yielding. Cor could understand their refusal to surrender, but that didn’t stay his hand.

 

His target, despite the prone bodies behind him, was actually the second exit. Already some of the so-called Sons of Cairhein were escaping out it like rats fleeing a fire. Led by one of the tall men who was handy with a sword, they had managed to fight their way through and earned a temporary reprieve from justice, but Cor was intent on seeing no other rebels managed it.

 

He closed on the escape route as a short woman with a spear looked to flee down it. Just before his spear point found her heart, he saw her face. For the first time since he had entered the fray, Cor spoke.

 

“You!”

 

Alianna Karalev, thief catcher and former companion-turned-turncloak, looked up into his blue eyes with shock. Her voice quivered with doubt, “Cor?” before she crumpled to the floor.

 

The tall, young Stone Dog looked down at her body in confusion, uncertain why he had kissed her chin with his fist instead of his steel. That dilemma would be settled later. For now, NO ONE was getting out this door unless he woke from the dream first.

[Guest Estel]

Alianna winced at the Aielman’s furious eyes and words as those were the only markers she could tell with him veiled. Fear leapt within her, choking off the hurried explanation… excuse she had been about to give him. Fear for knowing their friendship, or whatever else one called their relationship; acquaintance, perhaps- was over. Of course, the better part of her fear was for his black veil and what it symbolized: killing. Would he really kill her for what she did? Or was he so dispassionate that their conversations did not matter or change his decision?

 

She tried to explain; tried to justify but the words wouldn’t come out. All she managed was a sort of strangled “Cor?” trying to urge him to say something besides just “You!” Light, he was so angry and she was so very, very dead.

 

The world went black as his iron fist connected with her jaw. Before she blacked out, though, the thief catcher-turned-insurgent had about a second to sigh in relief that she was definitely not dead… yet. Her only other thought was this: ‘Damn, I picked the wrong side.’