The Best-Kept Secret in Tar Valon (Attn: Sherper. Others: Wait and See)

[Quibby]

"The Ways are sealed."

 

"Welcome back, Janine Sedai."

 

With a smile for the doorman, Janine stepped out of the exotic spice shop where she had been browsing and into one of the best kept secrets in Tar Valon.  Several of the other businesses on the street had doors leading into the same location, each with its own passphrase, but Janine only knew one way in.  Not that it would have mattered if she had known other ways in; the passphrases were changed twice a week, and each location had its own informant to whom one would speak to get the new passphrase.  Granted, the coded conversations with them also changed regularly, so it was sometimes difficult to keep it all straight.

 

A long flight of suprisingly dry stone stairs led down well below street level before opening into a large, well-lit room with oak-paneled walls, several small tables surrounded by chairs, and an ebony bar running halfway around the room.  The chairs were upholstered in fine leather, adding its scent to the other smells permeating the air.  There was fragrant smoke in the air, both from the fireplace in the wall- a fixture that Janine suspected vented its smoke through several chimneys above- and from the pipes that some of the other patrons were smoking.  Behind that was the faint smell of alcohol, probably from a spilled drink behind the bar, if the man scrubbing at the hidden counter was anything to judge by.  Giving the man  behind the bar a nod as she strolled to her usual spot near the fire.

 

The bar had no name.  It needed no name.  It did not advertise itself in any way.  The only way to gain entrance to the bar was to be invited by somebody who already knew about the bar, and even then it was after the inviter had served as a character witness on the initiate's behalf.  Janine had been initiated by another Aes Sedai, one of her many teachers as an Accepted.  It had shocked Janine when she learned that the bar did not choose its patrons based on their personal wealth; there were poor dock laborers who were initiates, some of whom were currently sitting around a table playing some sort of dice game.  Membership did not depend on wealth, only character.  It amused Janine to know that the overwhelming majority of the White Tower did not know about this place; she had only seen five different sisters in the bar in her many decades as an initiate.  She suspected that the few Aes Sedai who did know the place also held it to be sacrosanct; Janine doubted that any of them would even think to betray the trust of their fellowship.

 

The barman came to Janine's table, a snifter of what smelled like brandy on a tray.  "From a farmer in the Two Rivers, Janine Sedai.  Apple brandy, triple distilled.  He has been expanding his business as of late, and this came highly recommended."

 

"Thank you, Thom.  Can I also have a bottle of port brought here?  I intend to sit for a while, and I may end up having to entertain somebody who feels bored."

 

"Certainly, Janine Sedai.  I know just the bottle."

 

The barman left without a word of payment.  There would be no payment.  Alain Demorgan, the founder of the bar, had left a staggeringly huge fortune behind; it was still buying everybody's drinks, and it would continue to buy them long after even Janine's lifetime.  Adjusting her simple green woolen dress, Janine sank back into the leather chair and drew out her pipe from the small satchel she always carried.  She did not know how her evening would turn out, but she knew how it was going to start.

 

OOC: Welcome to the bar.  Let's see how this place develops.

[Sherper]

Four dice rattled in the cup Tom was holding by his palm.

 

“Bet you all two silvers I’ll get it this time,” he said, holding up the contraption to the other occupants of the table. He waved it back and forth, shaking it as if he were a knight and the cup was his battle axe. “Come on! Are there no takers?” he bellowed, but the others stayed silent.

 

Most of them had already spent their nightly allowance, and those who were still conscious – that being about half the number that had started the night – preserved enough common sense not to spend the rest. Largely out of fear for what the wife would do if they went home drunk and penniless. The night was drawing to a close for this particular crowd Ellisha sensed, but it might as well end with another round of drinks.

 

“I’ll do it, you flaming bastard,” she stood. Her words were purposefully slurred so as to give the impression she was heavily influenced by the drink. “I’m all out of silver though,” she went on, showing them all her empty purse.  This was a lie, of course, for Ellisha Sedai of the Blue Ajah kept a second pouch full of fat Tar Valon Marks hidden beneath the folds of her skirt. Yet, although it was a lie in essence, it was a lie in which an Aes Sedai could tell without breaking her oaths.

 

To speak no word that is not true.

 

She was out of silver, true, but that did not mean she was out of money. Everyone would assume this was the case when she showed them her empty money pouch, but people could assume whatever the hell they want. She’d grown good at playing these word games these past few years. Ever since attaining the shawl, such methods had become second nature to her. She hardly even noticed when she was doing them anymore.

 

Tom gave her a savage grin, whose effects were somewhat spoilt when his eyes went crosswise into each other. He promptly shook himself awake.

“How about you give O’ Tom here a kiss,” his grin widened, and a dangerous glint in his eyes conveyed he didn’t just plan to stop there. Someone on the other end of the table let out a low whistle. “If you lose, that is.”

“Give me your best then,” she grinned back, un-phased by the implied provocation.  “Show me what a pig eyed goat-kisser like you could do.”

 

Tom shook the cup, once, twice, three times before letting go.  The gathered on-lookers tensed as the four bone cubes tumbled onto the table, spinning and skittering before finally coming to rest. Unseen by any of them, a faint glow suddenly surrounded Ellisha. It was faint; so faint that if one were not watching the young woman with close narrowed eyes they would have missed it completely. It lasted for the merest of seconds, and the final dice, which had been spinning peculiarly on its axis, fell loudly down and pronounced the final die roll.  A One.

 

Tom groaned loudly as Ellisha scooped up the two silver pennies. All four dies had come up the same result: all of them ones.

“I don’t bloody believe it,” Tom huffed, sitting down and glaring at his now empty mug of ale. “I swear Margie you’ve got the ill cursed luck of those women in the Tower. Ellisha suppressed a sudden snicker that threatened to bubble over throat, so she instead coughed then shrugged in reply. “What can I say Tom, guess you’ll just have to shove that prick of yours somewhere else tonight.” This brought a general rumble of amusement from the other occupants.

 

She briefly contemplated what would have happened if she had allowed the game to be lost as she called over the barkeep for another round of drinks, paying with the last of the game’s silver. Tom, she observed, was not a particularly bad looking man and it had certainly been some time since she’d let herself indulge in life’s other pleasures.  

 

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted when a woman appeared through one of the many entrances which the bar sported. The woman wore simple linens. A cloak with its hood down over a simple green dress whose fabric looks as if it had been washed many times. It wasn’t shabby and it wasn’t prim either, yet the young woman – who looked to be somewhere near Ellisha’s own age – was on the whole rather unremarkable. So if it hadn’t been two words which had caught the Blue’s ear, Ellisha wouldn’t have given her a second glance.“Janine Sedai.”

 

So another Aes Sedai coming to visit the bar. She thought woollenly, finishing the last dregs of her mug. I wonder what business she has here tonight.

It wasn’t terribly uncommon to see other women of the Tower visiting this unnamed bar, for the establishment saw both men and women from all stations of society. Ellisha had gained entrance through rather unorthodox means. She often went out to Tar Valon under differing names; always in the hopes of collecting information and establishing contacts with people from both up high and down low. One of these outings had ended with her head-butting a burly dockworker, and to keep a long story short, events led her to being invited as a permanent patron to the bar.

 

She observed the other Aes Sedai closely. The woman sat in a relaxed posture, taking out a pipe and satchel containing what was undoubtedly tobacco and lighting it with a slow flick of her hand. Her face was nearly as unremarkable as her dress, and say for a pair of bright emerald eyes, there seemed nothing else worth describing about the woman. After a minute or two, Ellisha decided the Aes Sedai was simply out to relax for the night. She looked around at her scattering of companions, all of whom were in varying degrees of unconsciousness by now, and decided she too should probably call it a day’s work and throw in the towel. It had been a productive evening and she thought she had gathered enough intelligence to work with for a while at least.

 

She made her excuses with the others just as the next round of drinks were being brought up then made her way to the table where the other woman sat.

“This seat taken?” she pointed to an empty chair opposite the Aes Sedai, then dropped herself down into it before the other woman could even reply. Janine Sedai raised an eyebrow as she watched Ellisha slouch down in her seat, puffs of smoke blowing out of the end of her pipe in a steady rhythmic pattern like that of a blacksmith’s billow, but otherwise said nothing.

 

“Fine evening to be about,” Ellisha said into the lingering silence, smiling whilst maintaining her Southside dock accent which her current persona – Margerit – used.  She had dyed her woodland brown hair a dark temporary black, and though the dye washes off easily with water, that in combination with the small dabs of foundation she had applied before coming here had changed Ellisha Sedai of the Blue Ajah to Margerit Cornsworth: fisherman’s daughter and patron to the unnamed bar.

“What’s your name? I’m known as Margerit, though my friends call me Margie.”

 

~ Ellisha Falwein

Aes Sedai of the Blue Ajah.

Edited July 28, 2015 by Sherper

[Quibby]

It did not take long for Janine's unspoken invitation to draw results.  Shortly after the barman left the bottle of port- quite an excellent bottle, too- one of the people from the dice game in the corner began to approach her table.  Glancing up from the embers in her pipe's bowl, Janine took in as much detail as she could as a mental exercise: dressed like a dock worker or somebody who spent a lot of time by the docks, dark hair, makeup, slight waver in her step to suggest that, while she was not drunk, she had had at least a couple drinks.  Janine's attention focused again on her pipe, which was just beginning to smolder properly.

 

The next time she glanced up, Janine found herself with company.  "This seat taken?" the woman asked before seating herself.  With the woman now sitting across from her, Janine found herself overwhelmed with the strange feeling that she somehow knew the woman.  It was impossible, of course; she carried herself like somebody from one of the harbors, and she even smelled as if she'd just come from the docks.  Still, there was something about her face that was tickling at the back of Janine's mind, crying for attention.

 

Janine squelched the voice; she would dwell on it later.

 

The woman seemed to take Janine's silence as either indifferent or hostile, and she tried to start a conversation.  "Fine evening to be about.  What's your name?  I'm known as Margerit, though my friends call me Margie."  The paranoid part of Janine's mind threw up another warning at that statement.  Women bound by the First Oath often spoke like that, avoiding the outright lie while giving a name.  Relax.  You're here for a nice evening.  Stop dissecting everything that everybody says.

 

Janine smiled, a rarity that improved her looks dramatically, she thought, and said, "Pardon my poor manners.  My name's Janine.  Please, help yourself to the wine."  As Margerit poured, Janine tried to remember if she had had any part in her acceptance to the bar; she turned up nothing.  It was rare for Janine to leave her title as Aes Sedai out of her introduction, as well, but she did not want deference or care in a conversation in the bar.  The fact that she was Aes Sedai was obvious to anybody who looked at her face, but not claiming the title went quite a way towards making sure a conversation was actually balanced.

 

Manners in the bar frowned upon asking others how they gained entrance, so that subject was not one for discussion.  Taking another draw from her pipe, Janine held the smoke for a moment, then blew a simple smoke ring. As it drifted toward the ceiling, she asked, "Any luck at the table?  Those dock hands look a bit disappointed.'  Glancing at the table again, she saw the men beginning to stagger away in twos and threes, the game obviously over.  "Gambling has never been one of my vices, sad to say.  It looks like it could be diverting."

[Sherper]

The other woman stayed silent for a long moment, puffs of ringed smoke escaping from the tip of her pipe as her green emerald eyes searched Ellisha for… something… a recollection, perhaps. The Green gave Ellisha a piercing gaze, which conveyed her suspicions as loudly as if she’d shouted them across the table. Yet only Ellisha’s experience as Aes Sedai allowed her to detect these subtle signs, for her companion’s expressions barely changed at all during the silence.

 

Janine was older than Ellisha, though inexperienced eyes wouldn’t have placed the two woman apart by more than ten years. Aes Sedais stopped aging after a while, their faces becoming smooth and free from wrinkles: a side-effect from years of channelling with Saidar. Ellisha was already in her 30s, but was still considered a child by Aes Sedai standards, her face yet to bear the ageless mask.

 

She kept up her own smile. She had no intention of being recognised here as Ellisha of the Blue instead of Margerit, trusting both in her ability to apply the makeup as well as weave the shield that prevented the other woman from seeing the tell-tale glow that surrounded her body.” She thought she had met Janine before; her own Ajah, the Blue, and Janine’s Green were on cordial relations with one another and thus knew the other’s sisters quite well.

 

Janine returned the smile after a moment, a much more comely expression replacing the stony look of weariness that had been plastered across the other woman’s face. Edently, Ellisha had passed some sort of test for the woman seemed to visibly relax two notches and even offered her the bottle of wine that had been sitting on the table. Ellisha had a split second of indecision when she contemplated whether or not to pour the wine. It could be poisoned, she thought, but quickly shook aside that line of thought for it was she who had actively sought out the other woman and for no other reason than to find civilised company after a night of cussing and blaspheming with a crowd of dockworkers. There was thus no good reason to suspect Janine was working for the Black Ajah, or at least, she hoped that was good enough deduction.    

 

She knew very little of Janine. Apart from the few occasions when she had sparred with the other woman on the warder’s practise yard, the two of them had only met each other in passing. Her bruises, long having healed, nevertheless throbbed unconsciously and reminded her the Green was a mean fighter.

 

She didn’t fail to notice the lack of “Sedai” at the end of Janine’s introduction. Most Aes Sedai flaunted their title and took every opportunity to remind everyone around them of the difference in social station. Janine’s absent title said something about the woman; that and the manner to which she talked – a plain straight forward voice that neither flowered nor cheapened her words – gave the impression of a person who was confident with who she was, and doesn’t give a rat’s rear hide what others thought of her. She found herself respecting that aspect of the woman, though she made sure nothing of her inner observations made it onto her features.  

 

Janine glanced at the table from where Ellisha had just made her exit. “So, any luck at the table? Those dock hands look a bit disappointed.” The woman was obviously trying to make conversation with her, perhaps as a way of making up for the awkward silence earlier. “Gambling has never been one of vices, sad to say.”

 

“Neither is it mine,” she replied, a hint of mischief evident in the grin she gave Janine. She took out three bone cubed dice from a pocket in her skirt and placed it on the table. “Loaded,” she explained holding up one and showing it to Janine. “One the bastards back there was using one of these until I caught on.” She quickly made the dice disappear from underneath her sleeves using a trick she had picked up from a street magician. Many woman in the towerrelied too much on their ability to channel the One Power. They would look down upon simple things like pickpocketing, sleight of hand, or just plain old fist fighting as too low a practise for their station. Ellisha disagreed, she choose to rebel against common practise, and it had paid off by saving her life on more than one occasion.

 

A thought suddenly struck her: an idea to make this an even more productive night than it already was.

 

“Besides,” she continued, draining the remaining contents of the cup in one gulp. “I wasn’t there to win silver.” One of the Green’s eyebrows rose; an unspoken question for her. “I win by making people talk,” she went on. “And believe me, people do talk around me.” The rings of smoke paused for a moment then resumed again.

 

“Talk?” the Green asked, tapping the pipe residue onto the table.

 

“Talk.” Ellisha agreed, and smiled. She had the Green’s undivided attention now. “My trade does not only involve fish and nets, but with people and information.” She dropped the south dock accent suddenly and instead adopted a clipped silky tone of a Cairhien aristocrat. Learning the accents of the different continents was another of the skills that she doubted many women in the Tower possessed. “I’m sure a lady of your position could always use someone with my particular skills.”

 

She wasn’t sure where she was going with this exactly. From her perspective, Janine on first impression seemed an amiable enough sort of person. She certainly wouldn’t have offered her service if she had turned out to be like any of the other stuck up woman in the Tower. Ellisha simply couldn’t stand the sight of most of them. If the Green agreed, she thought, then she was going to get something out of this arrangement too, for information always carried both ways and the more closely linked she was with the cobweb, the more likely she was to picking up something about the Black Ajah.

 

“Well. What do you say, Janine Sedai?”

 

~ Ellisha Falwein
Aes Sedai of the Blue Ajah

[Quibby]

It seemed like weeks passed as Janine considered what she had just been told.  An information broker in the bar.  Now that was interesting.  Settling back into the tall chair, Janine gazed across the top of her brandy snifter at Margerit, absently admiring the scent of the brandy as she did.  She did not care if the other woman thought her rude; what had been said needed careful thought.

 

Unlike most Aes Sedai, especially Blues, Janine did not maintain a network of eyes-and-ears of her own.  She had only had a couple decades in which to start one, but she had never seen any reason to do so.  Her interest in weather weaves was unaffected by goings-on in the world.  The same was true for her interest in gardening.  Janine's only other point of interest was on the Blightborder, and the reports she received through the Green Ajah's own network of eyes-and-ears had been sufficient for that, thus far.  One day, she would have to put her own informants in place up north, she knew.  However, what Margerit was offering had nothing to do with the Blight.

 

Margerit herself provided another point of hesitation for Janine.  Here was a woman who was so adept at adopting a dockworker's facade that Janine had been genuinely shocked- something that she had kept hidden behind a mask of curiosity- when she dropped the accent for the clipped, clean pronunciation of Cairhien.  Janine had seen gleemen and other performers who could do the same thing without so much as a second's thought.  They could transition from accent to accent mid-word, something which always impressed Janine.  Therein, though, lay the problem.  Margerit's first accent could have been her true accent.  It could also be the Cairhienin accent that she had just adopted.  It could also be one of a large number of accents that one could find in Tar Valon alone, to speak nothing of the visitors from outside the city.

 

Janine finally returned from her thoughts and focused on the woman sitting across the table from her.  "You make an interesting offer, Margie, if I may call you that."  She took a sip from her snifter, allowing the brandy to trace exquisite fire through her mouth before swallowing it.  "However, I find that I am not in need of your services at this time.  My current sources of information are meeting my needs.  That being said..."  Janine's pipe had gone out.  Frowning at the bowl, she quickly channeled a small flame to the tabac, setting it smoldering again before she continued.  "I would like to be able to get in touch with you in the future, if necessary.  I would not expect me to request your assistance often; you probably would not hear from me for years at a time."

 

Tossing back the last traces of brandy, Janine lifted the glass of port that also sat on the table in front of her.  "What say you?"

 

OOC: I am really sorry about how long it took me to get back into this.

 

Also, I am opening the bar to people from the White Tower and the Warders for now while I work out how to proceed with the place.

[Sherper]

Ellisha gave the other woman a small smile and an understanding nod. It was worth a shot anyway, and besides, the Green hadn’t outright refused her proposal. “If ever comes a time when you need my… ‘Particular set of talents,’ then just leave a message with the owner. I'll know where to find you.” She stood from her seat, her Southside dock accent back on her tongue.

 

 “And don’t try and go snooping about for me, you hear? You won’t get very far.” She took one last pull from her cup, finishing the last drops then settling it back down on the table. “Pleasure making acquaintance, Aes Sedai.” And with that, Margerit Cornsworth left the bar and disappeared into the Tar Valon night.  

 

~ Ellisha Falwein
Aes Sedai of the Blue Ajah.

 

OOC: No sweats mate. Hope we get to continue this character arc in the near future. Had quite a bit of fun. Good luck with continuing the thread.

Edited September 29, 2015 by Sherper