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DRAGONMOUNT

A WHEEL OF TIME COMMUNITY

706Somtaaw

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About 706Somtaaw

  • Birthday 05/22/1987

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  1. Not many chances irl for roleplay, LARPing & cosplay aren't huge industries in Canada compared to the US. And the price is pretty high for any of the really fun stuff, whether it's because its a big armor build, or flamboyant with lots of LEDs and such. Not to mention travel fees, Canada's a big bloody country and we have pretty bad prices, whether flying train or bus it's not exactly cheap when you also have to ship multiple containers with your outfit or gear. Online roleplay is just so much cheaper, and you can meet some pretty interesting people, met a few old friends over beers and still keep in touch with some. Eventually left here over personal reasons, came back to potentially dabble but they changed the forums and made all these clubs. Black Tower and Warders were my two primary groups in those olden days, and I wasn't quite sure how these club things work, compared to the old groups.
  2. Not sure if friendly gathering, or interrogation *thinks* Long time member of the Dragonmount roleplay groups going on damned near 15 years ago now I think, back when we used ezboards. Eventually rose to assistant leader to the Black Tower. Favourite Asha'man was Corlan Dashiva, whose name I donned for my own character here. And any cleaning I would do involves using fireballs of various sizes.
  3. Sort of around, eventually going to have to get around to speaking to a few people concerning old characters though. Edit: Arguments were had, words said in anger, and it really needs to be sorted (privately) sooner or later before I'd stick around long-term. And I don't know the right words to say to the parties in question to initiate that particular conversation after all these years.
  4. Dashiva scowled slightly at the younger Asha'man's remark as he made his way over to the wall, but shrugged it off with a rare smile and chuckled himself. "Well, least it's a lively group," he replied before he waved his hand in a small shooing motion, and let the man get the recruits organized for falling in. Meanwhile, Dashiva's gaze glazed over as he started thinking, and remembering his early times as a recruit and the hardships and occasional melee's that had been involved. Blinking a few times, he shrugged and made his way through the recruits, and the uniformed Soldiers and Dedicated's who were grabbing a meal prior to going off to training. He rarely had to actually bull through anymore, the markings on his uniform and his sheer size was usually enough to clear a small path to move through. Standing outside the inn, Dashiva permitted another small smile to touch upon his lips as he considered whether to inflict the Koras laps on the recruits now, or at a later time. Thumbing a pipe of tabac, he channeled briefly to light it, and proceeded to wait knowing he could rely on the Asha'man still inside to tend to matters and bring the recruits out. OOC: Arath, want to hit me with a PM of how we actually greet newbies nowadays? I don't think the old ways still apply
  5. "No baijin'm'hael, just these two. I've just been stuck baby sitting while they waited here. Looks like you made quite a haul this time. Remind me to never go wherever you just came from," Daevis was saying. Dashiva grunted sourly, before rolling his shoulders. "Sometimes I wonder if the previous recruiters actually tried given this haul," he grumbled. Wandering into the back of the kitchen, Dashiva barked at some of the cooks that seemed to have appeared, and got them producing some more food for the newest recruits, and came back out into the common room intending on filling out a report and stopped as he noticed a scuffle. He started to seize saidin but then thought better after realising this was entirely a fist fight between recruits. Shaking his head as he momentarily felt Daevis doing the same, the large Shienaran pushed around the edges to stand near the younger man. "Let them settle things out a little bit," he muttered just loud enough for the Asha'man to hear. "I don't know about your two babies, but the new Border recruits need to put some steam off." Folding his arms over his chest, he leaned back against a wall. The Inn was half formed using the Power, and a fistfight was going to do little harm except to some pride, and a few relatively easily replaced items. He heard some of the bets starting to flow, and his fingers twitched slightly. He'd hidden for some years as both guard and merchant, and betting was something he'd taken to doing here and there. Rolling his head and hearing the cracks roll out, he rolled his shoulders again. Seeing the Saldean recruit take a cheap shot and stumble back onto a table and then lunge forwards, brandishing a knife was all he needed, and he had both combatants encased in Air, and shoved through the crowds to twist the knife out of the frozen Saldeans hand. "That's enough," he snapped, flows of Air and Fire enhancing his voice to boom through the inside of the Inn and then dissipating. "Save that energy for the enemy, not each other," he continued knowing he had most if not all their attention. Tossing the knife into a nearby pillar, he glanced around the recruits. Slowly releasing the fighters, he gave them both a cold look. "Now shake hands," he growled coldly. "There may be a day, your back may be guarded by the other and holding a grudge is only going to get us all kiled."
  6. OOC: Guess I'll be the handy AL to handle this. IC: Dashiva grumbled under his breath as he grouped up the latest group of recruits he had Tested, and dragged around on his assigned route. He hadn't been in a recruiting party in years, and almost wanted to be back in his small study. Unlike many Asha'man, he generally disdained cloaks while he was going about official Tower business and simply wore his blacks. Snapping at the newest Borderlander recruit's, he reached out and seized saidin and gripped it tightly bending to his will and opening the Gateway back to the Tower. "Go slowly, and side by side," he ordered the new recruits, his voice flat and face entirely impassive. Carefully the big Shienaran adjusted his weaves, and sure enough a pair of new recruits got the last minute shakes and tried to run and he clubbed their legs then heads before they got far. "You had your chance to back out before testing Recruits," he snapped, nearing the end of his patience. "Go through the Gateway, and you will be fed and trained." Turning around, he glanced once more around the empty farm in the Borderlands, and spat off to the side before stepping through the Gateway, leading his tall Shienaran stock warhorse through, and closing the Gateway behind it. Glancing around sourly, he glanced around the Travelling Grounds and then pointed the Inn. "Go in there, if there isn't hot food waiting, there will be soon," he instructed. Passing the reins off to a nearby Soldier who was from the Borderlands as well, Dashiva followed the new recruits, trying to be patient with the gawking new recruits and glanced quickly around his domain of the Inn as he stepped in behind his recruits and closed the door. Pointing out a table, "there's a few other recruits there, have a seat and get to know your fellow men." Nodding at the nearby Asha'man, he cudgelled his brain until the name came around, "Daevis, are there anymore running around?" OOC: not my best, I'll get in practice eventually.
  7. Growling softly at the implication that even the Black Tower couldn't immediately move again into Shienar, Dashiva nodded. "Very well, if you'll have me then I shall remain and help to push the Shadow back to the Blight. I cannot just sit idly by and watch my homeland stay in the hands of the Shadow." Flexing his broken hand, he started regretting have punched the wall. He didn't dare form the Void until he knew exactly where he stood in the Tower now. Harbouring faint thoughts that even now they would offer him some wine, or just plain kill him, he didn't desire to give anymore cause than just standing here.
  8. Dashiva's face tightened as he listened to what happened, and he knew his hand was tightening on the hilt to his blade until the fingers cracked. Shienar wasn't supposed to be prey to the Shadow; we are supposed to be heros of the soft south landers a voice whispered in his head. Foolish southlanders have no idea what happens in the north; now your home is nothing... Turning around with a snarl; Dashiva punched the solid wall before he realised what he was doing and then looked at his broken right hand dumbly. Forcing it to flex and letting the pain rip through him, he looped the thumb into his belt and turned back. "My home was in Fal Moran once..." looking down he swallowed before loooking back. "What are we doing to re-inforce the Borderlands?" He didn't dare voice the question as to if they would reinforce; he didn't want to know what he'd do if they weren't going back...
  9. Dashiva walked down the hall behind the 2 soldiers, and stopped when they reached a door and one rapped sharply on it, before opening it. Glancing around the room quickly, he nodded slightly; many of the men inside he had known once; they had all had command of various parts of the Tower. "Good to see you again Dashiva," said the one Shienaran he only vaguely remembered with a small smile. "I hope. You probably have questions, but it's best if you give some explanations first. Where have you been, and what have you been doing these last few months?" Stepping further into the room, he looked behind the door as he pushed it closed by reflex. He remembered more than one occasion that they had to ambush a man to force feed the wine... glancing back at the men in front of him; he dropped one hand to the sword on his hip and bowed slightly. "Peace favour your blades brothers," he spoke to the room in general before fixing the other Borderlands with a brief glance before he clasped his hands behind him. "As for where I have been, I'm sure by now you all know that I was exiled by the M... by Brent." Shaking his head slightly at his slip, he went on. "After my exile, I left rapidly, and went into hiding. I couldn't be sure that others may be sent to kill me after I had left, so I became a trader. Trading in anything and everything, I offered to carry anything to anywhere faster than anyone else." Clearing his throat, he shrugged. "I wasn't above smuggling either if I had to; and using saidin we could move farther distances than others could, but not instantly... I worked slowly at first, shaving a few days off another smuggler's best time at first and slowly continued shaving a few more days off until I made the same trip in half the time. After building those connections, I moved on to other regions, building trading networks. I had a cargo bound for Shienar, when as we went to make camp I felt saidin being used in enough Power I had to look. After cresting a hill far away, I could see the... routing of our brethren. I didn't stay long, but that view of defeat compelled me to return, if only to see why we lost." Looking around the room, he was a little disturbed to realise he had growled the last and one hand was clutching at the hilt of his short sword and had bared an inch of the blade. Slamming the blade back in, he turned around from the other men as he fought for a control of sorts without resorting to the Void. That was too dangerous now to speak from the Void.
  10. "Ah ... so you saw the Shienaran disaster. The beginning of the end for the M'Hael I'm afraid. Not a single one of these men will be carrying any tales to him. Brent is no longer M'Hael. He isn't even alive. Covai saw to that not even a week ago." Dashiva didn't move at the statement and simply stayed just ready to fight or flee if he had to, until the next words were spoken. "We recalled all of the Asha'man to announce a few ... changes ... in the command structure. Nobody knew where to find you though." Physically relaxing, he let the Void slip away, if they brought others back that had been sent away then perhaps he would be able to stay alive without hiding as a trader and sometime smuggler. "You'd better come in and explain where you've been to the rest of the Council. We'll all want to know what you've been up to. Those of us who are still here anyway. I assure you, not a single man among the Asha'man will attempt to carry out Brent's threats. You can stop by the inn first and drop the wagon off. I trust you still remember where it is? Very well then. Come to the council hall in half an hour. Impossible to miss the bloody place. The soldiers there will tell you where to go." Dashiva nodded, before walking the few steps that had seperated him from his wagon, and his wife climbing back up and guiding the horse through the gate and heading to the Inn. Speaking quietly, he glanced at Racelle. "I'll leave the wagon at the Inn, and order a few Soldiers to unload the spices and food we have into the kitchens. I would hardly believe they've left it the way I left things. And I'll take the wards off our home so your... purchases," he glanced over his shoulder with a bare smile at the boxes of clothing she had insisted on buying; mostly silks and other fancy dresses. "Your purchases can be put away as well." Stopping the wagon, Dashiva jumped down and looked around quickly, spotting 2 Soldiers walking by, apparently deep in conversation with each other. (OOC: IC victims are welcome to jump in here) "You two Soldiers," he barked at the pair, pointing at them. "Come over here, and help unload this wagon where my wife wants them," he said much more calmly after getting their attention. "I will be back shortly, love" he said to Racelle, leaning down to give her a quick kiss before jogging off and settling into a quick pace towards his old home. It didn't take him too long, and he seized Saidin just long enough to take the wards down that had barely covered his home. Pushing it away, he set off at a brisk walk, and climbed the steps to the so-called Council Hall. Forming the Void before he stepped in the door, one of his last thoughts was; why was it called the council hall; who is in bloody charge? before he looked at the soldiers inside flatly. "I'm to meet the council about my return? Where am I going?"
  11. Dashiva's eyes narrowed as a Gateway formed just inside the gate, and a man stepped out. Have they become so lazy they don't walk anywhere? And so disdainful for anyone who might be around? he thought, nearly reaching out for saidin himself. Folding his arms across his chest as he looked at the man who had come through the Gateway, something vaguely tickled at his memory as the man approached slowly and obviously wary. Bloody soldier must have called me the Haran; they must think I'm giving airs that I never got exiled. "Dashiva, I didn't expect to see you here. What brings you back here? I assume it's not for a friendly chat with Brent." Eyes narrowing still farther until they were bare slits; Dashiva scowled openly at the name of the man who had exiled him before the words sank through. "No I did not," he stated flatly not quite ready to let the Void lapse. His mind raced, and the months he had spent exiled and almost forming his own Eyes and Ears as he Travelled around the world sharpened his mind. "I was exiled from the grounds by him for a failure not entirely my fault. But you aren't cringing in fear one of these Soldiers," Dashiva's eyes flicked at the two lads before looking back, "might try and curry favour by reporting the lack of respect. I saw the end of what happened at my home, I see why." Craning his neck slightly, he looked through the Gateway to see a handful of young men, running but didn't move his feet. He wasn't going to be tricked easily into stepping onto grounds to be executed...
  12. Dashiva tensed slightly as the sentries stepped in the way of his wagon; and stopped himself from seizing saidin. Looking impassively at the Dedicated, he all but ignored the Soldier's as they were no matter and would listen to orders. "Boys, before you stands the last honorable man to hold the rank of M'Hael Haran. Welcome back Dashiva. I'm sure you don't remember me as we only met once or twice. The name is Nakor Zorrander. Will you be staying for awhile?" the Dedicated stated, and Dashiva could feel a hint of warmness and a smile lurking behind the man's face. Dashiva nearly flinched at his old title, but nodded as he vaguely remembered the Dedicated from one of the few classes he had instructed. "I will be staying," he replied flatly from inside the Void as his eyes flicked up to look behind the gate. "I saw what happened at Shienar, and it seems the men here are growing, let's call it soft." Jumping down from the wagon, he handed the reins to Racelle with a small smile before he moved a few paces away from the wagon in case of a trick. If he died, at least he could try to protect her before nodding at Nakor. "Send a soldier to fetch one of the Tsorovan'm'haels, Dedicated. There is much to tell before I enter the gate," he instructed. Dashiva knew he should be sweating, but the terms of his exile had been quite clear, and he was riding a fine line just being at the gate and he had no intentions of being executed for entering the grounds proper.
  13. OOC: Dash has been gone a LONG time, so feel free to join in; a soldier or two can be in the sentry posts (hidden as part of the woods, stones, and other natural "hiding" spots) and a Dedicated would be at the gate. IC: Dashiva tugged at his sleeves. He hadn't worn his uniform in well over a year; and it now felt strange to be wearing it. Brushing at the lightning bolts on the sleeves, he reached up and adjusted the pins on his collar. Running a hand over his bare head, he paused to think whether he really wanted to return to the Black Tower. He had been all but banished, on pain of death to return; why was he coming back. Shrugging, he seized saidin and opened a Gateway to a path that was well away from the Black Tower. Using the reins, he guided his horses through, towing the large wagon full of spices, and closed the portal behind him. Guiding the horses down the path, he deliberately ignored where he knew one or two age old sentry posts where, and rode towards the gate that led to the grounds As he came around the last remnants of the woods, he looked ahead to see a trio of men in their black coats coming out of the little huts to stand directly in front of his path, obviously with the intent to block his entry. Slowing his horse, Dashiva scowled slightly as his trained eyes picked out the silver sword on one man's collar, and bare for the other two.
  14. Dashiva leaned back in his chair and thought about putting his boots on his desk. For some reason, everything needed to be looked at today, and he was getting tired. One fool had taken his mount off to do some riding, and somehow managed to get his horse killed when it stumbled over a rock. Another wanted to requisition more ale and wines for the bars the embassy frequented, to which he'd given the man a tongue lashing. What was HE supposed to do about the bars, he had no idea but obviously the Dedicated thought that Dash's position at the Tower cooking meals applied here with the Band. After a few minutes more of deciding, he leaned further back and had just put his boots on his desk, before an Asha'man walked through his doorway just as he was about to sigh in relief. Closing his eyes and scrubbing his face with both hands, he brought his boots down and stood. "Yes?" he asked trying to be polite. "Storm Leader," the Asha'man nodded and touched fist to heart which Dashiva returned. "There's a small disturbance at one of the bars, this time it was a few Blackarms involved. Sighing, Dashiva nodded and walked to a small cabinet. Pouring himself a few fingers of whiskey, he knocked it back quickly and gestured to the door. "Lead on please," he growled. Walking out of his office door, he closed and sealed it with a quick weave before walking down the steps after the Asha'man. Before he'd gone fifteen paces, he knew someone was following him, and was trying hard to be unseen. Turning around, he got a faint glimpse of movement next to a building and seized saidin just long enough to see a flash of familiar hair before it ducked behind the edge of the barracks for some soldiers. Shaking his head, he released saidin and nodded at the Asha'man. "Continue please," he said, and the Asha'man gave one last glance down the street before continuing. Rubbing his face with one hand, he silently cursed over all the work of today, before walking normally once more.
  15. OOC: Apologies, I've been slacking off alot and was kind of hoping 'someone' would post in here. IC: Dashiva stopped his trotting a short distance from the Infirmary and formed the Void, bringing relief from the mild headache which had caused him to come here in the first place. Reaching for saidin as he carefully entered the door, he cut a few weaves as they slowly moved towards him and moved deeper. Every man he encountered who looked wild eyed, he quickly slid a Shield into place and used a brief weave of Air to keep from being attacked from behind. There was a larger amount of saidin being used from the main hall, he judged, and a lesser amount beyond that. Stepping softly, he moved around a wall readying both a Shield and some defensive weaves before he saw Dalinar ahead. Stepping wide, he stopped well to Dalinar's side and looked at over the room. "What's going on with him," he asked loud enough to be heard by Dalinar, but unlikely to carry far in the chaos and bedlam filling the Infirmary.
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