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DRAGONMOUNT

A WHEEL OF TIME COMMUNITY

Phelix

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    That guy... you know?
  • Birthday August 17

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  1. Listening to Saline Sedai's words, Elin nods and tries to catch the nuances. "I should very much like to try linking with a man. I have read the few records we have on the topic, but every record is clear in that the words are but a shadow of the experience." She pauses. Saline had asked her opinion directly, but she had laid out her own... did the senior sister expect to be agreed with, or did she actually want Elin's opinion. After a small breath, Elin continued. "While I agree the bond between an Aes Sedai and an Asha'man might have unintended consequences, the benefits are significant. From what I have been told by sisters with warders, the bond creates a deep knowing of the other person. That connection would allow the sister to assess her partner's mental state. Determine how badly he has been affected by the Taint." She keeps careful watch of the older sister's face now and kept her voice pitched to stay here at this table and not be heard by others nearby. "We would have to trust to each other, the Red sisters, to watch both the Asha'man and our own who have bonded them. Who else to watch for signs of spreading taint than the ajah that has guarded the world from it for three thousand years?" "I would very much appreciate more time to practice with you. You have quite a bit of skill, and there is much I could learn from you."
  2. Following Saline, Elin kept the shock showing from her face. Saline was very relaxed with the servants and all. But if the elder, stronger, sister felt that was the appropriate manner to hold, then Elin would not contradict her. When they finally sat, with lemon water and a light luncheon, Saline spoke. “Before you ask me what you need to know, Elin please tell me this. Sitter Jagen’s trip to the black tower - what do you understand this mission to be about?” Elin took a sip of her water and gathered her thoughts. "The mission to the Black Tower is a nesting doll of purposes. On the surface, it is about building bridges between the two Towers so that we might work together against the Shadow. Beneath that, there is another purpose: to ensure that the men who live there, who have been afflicted by the Taint on saidin, are as safe as can be, and if they are not, that they are dealt with by sisters trained to do so. Below that purpose, there is another purpose, to learn if we can truly work together as Aes Sedai did in the Age of Legends. I am sure that there are further layers of purpose, if one chooses to dig more deeply, but these three are enough reason that I volunteered to join the Sitter's excursion." Taking a break, Elin realized that she had let her tone become almost passionate, so took another sip of water before continuing. "I had intended to ask if you were going to be joining us on the mission... if you supported it." Elin let the sentence drop there, allowing the senior sister to decide if she chose to hear the question.
  3. Elin gladly began the weaving, increasing the complexity of the attacks, adding more figures. She was stretching her skills to create these weaves, but by relying on patterns and natural variations, she was able to give them a strong semblance of real danger. Once she had the weave set with its cascading patterns of action and reaction, she made sure that the new sister, Saline Sedai, had begun her exercise, and then Elin joined in again, tackling the men Saline chose to leave. It took effort not to be distracted by Saline's greater strength and the weaves she used. Where Elin cut and slashed like a knife duelist in Ebou Dar, Saline's weaves were more like a swordsman in battle. It was quite impressive. Especially the other woman's strength with Earth. Elin could never have replicated those weaves. In a lull of the 'battle', Saline spoke, “You seem untroubled, if I may say so. I can only suppose it is because you have done this so many times before?" "No, sister, I am relatively new to the Shawl. So new that I haven't had time for any of these weaves to get rusty from when they were taught to me by sisters of the Ajah. I simply know that I must be prepared if I am to join Jaglen Sedai on her mission to the Black Tower. If I must be prepared, there is no room to doubt or be afraid." Elin spoke with clear tones, keeping her passion in check. Later, when Saline raised a platform of Earth while exploding stones and creating a duststorm, it was all Elin could do not to stare. Any one of those things was beyond her, yet Saline achieved them all with ease. After the hours passed, Elin began to grow weary. The illusions were tied into their pattern, so maintaining them had not drained her, but the constant dance of weave and counter weave had been hard work. Elin watched until Saline was at a natural pause in her own fight, then Elin paused the illusions, holding their weave in place. "Sister, would you object if I ended the practice session now? If you do not object, I have some questions I would ask you as well." Elin waited to hear what the elder Red decided.
  4. Rhys' draw dropped when the Traitor seemed to shimmer away like a mirage over the lake. It didn't look like he had woven saidin at all, or if he had, the weave had been too quick for Rhys to catch. He helped Nox to gather their new prisoners, and tried to catch the other man's eye with a reassuring smile. Quick action like this can unsettle some men, and Nox seemed to be near an edge... his eyes moved quickly. Out in the main cavern, Rhys addressed the Storm Leader. "Shall we take them back to the Tower, or is there somewhere else you'd rather, sir?"
  5. OOC: Perfectly fine! Elin is short and pale, with dark hair. She's young, only in her late 30s, and is mostly strong in Spirit. She's weaker than the average sister, but her skill is decent. Elin paused for a break, keeping her breathing calm and steady, when she noticed the other sister taking a ready stance in the practice room. The woman looked familiar, but Elin couldn't put a name to her. "Hello sister, would you like the room for your own use or shall I adjust the illusion to address the both of us?" She hoped for a shared practice, hoping to see the measure of the other woman. If the White Tower was beginning a public relationship with the Black Tower, it would be important that every sister be prepared for violence. Even with the best of intentions, some of the men had to be mad... and mad men almost always used the Power for violent means.
  6. The room was cavernous, with vaulted ceilings leaving plenty of room for weaves and maneuvering. This room had been used for thousands of years by Greens and Reds developing their battle skills. The walls were strengthened with the One Power much the way the walls of the city had been to prevent the structure of the building being damaged, no matter what weaves the women inside worked. The floor had a thick layer of rock and earth placed over smooth stone to allow practice with the weaves men were most likely to use. Today, Elin had reserved the room for her own practice. She had not done so in years, since she was new to the Ajah, but if she was going to travel with Jagen Sedai, she would have to be prepared for anything... even the men they bonded using the Power against them. Elin shuddered at that thought. She was weak in the Power, even among women, and all of the records and the older sisters who had experience hunting down rogue men said that most men were stronger than the average woman. Whomever she bonded was likely to be much stronger than she was. If there were dangers... if men attacked them wielding saidin, Elin would not be able to match them strength for strength, so she must be smart about things. First, she wove a shield. That weave came to her easily as it was commonly practiced among the Red. She let it dissolve. Embracing the Source, she wove a shield and a flow of spirit, sharpening it and wielding it like a blade. Elin let one blade disappear and wove another as quickly as she could. Weaving the Mask of Mirrors, Elin created a strawman version of an Asha'man, and she began an exercise. Most channelers settle into a rhythm when they fight, weaving as quickly as they can, but usually finalizing each weave on the same beat. Some weave quickly, throwing a completed weave every third heartbeat. Others take longer, weaving every fifth. Slow, clumsy channelers take ten beats or longer. Unskilled channelers have physical gestures that can be tells for their weaving. Some twitch their eyes in the direction they weave. Others wag their fingers. Sisters of the Red were taught to watch for those signs, it's rare that a man or woman can create false tells. Elin set her illusion to moving, mimicking the tells of a real man, and she began to react to the "weaves" "he" was throwing. As she warmed up, she refused to allow her body to sweat, ignoring the heat in the room, the heat of exercise. She altered her weave, causing the illusion to move and walk, and she began to dart and weave, moving against the illusion's motion. Elin had her focus entirely on the illusion and her practice against it, paying no attention to the entrance to this practice room.
  7. Everything changed so quickly. One moment they were working calmly together, the next Nox was pulling him into the shadows. Rhys rolled his eyes while this... Karavin... monologued like the cad in one of the penny novels back in Far Madding. He couldn't tell from here, but Rhys was sure that the fool even had a thin mustache that he could twirl. The fools taunting Nox only added to the imagery. When Nox stalked off into the darkness, Rhys did not stand still. He held himself calm and quiet, wrapping the Void around his shoulders and mind like a cloak. The light of saidin pulsed just out of sight, but Rhys forced himself to ignore it. Drawing deeply in this place might cause any of the artifacts to surge to life, or it might create a loop of power, forcing too much saidin through the mind and heart of any of the men in the room, burning their talent out and possibly snuffing their life. With quiet steps, Rhys stalked through the rows of objects. He had no weapons with him, having gone immediately from his experiments to this cavern. He wasn't very comfortable with blades or staves anyway... he'd learned to brawl here at the Tower, and these men were going to learn it. A loud thumping noise indicated a fight off to one side, away from where The Storm Leader stood... Rhys approached from an oblique angle, stepping in behind another Asha'man... this one was a younger fool. Barely in his 20s and believing that his aggression made him stronger. Rhys slammed his fist hard into Delmar's kidney, then wrapped his other arm around the fool's neck, pulling him to the ground. One hand covered Delmar's eyes and most of the rest of his face... most men believed they had to be able to see to channel. Delmar was one of those. The fool was full of the power, but the weaves just would not form correctly for him. Rhys chuckled as he forced a lace handkerchief into Delmar's mouth, and within moments the other man stopped struggling. When Delmar had been still for a full count of 60, Rhys released him from the grapple and quickly bound his wrists and ankles with his own belt. The handkerchief went over his eyes to make a blindfold. When he was done, Rhys looked to see if anyone had noticed what he had done. His eyes searched the dark for Nox first, then for the Storm Leader.
  8. Rhys was slightly startled when Nox volunteered to help. The other young man seemed... on edge... but the tips of Nox's fingers grazed Rhys' wrist, and Rhys was glad for the flickering light that might hide his blush. Since his return to the Farm, after walking home from Arafel, he had not found anyone interesting, or interested, in a more intimate kind of friendship. Perhaps Nox would be interested... or perhaps he was trying to sound out Rhys' weaknesses and habits... who knows what lies in the minds of asha'man. He turned to the Storm Leader. "This statue, Storm Leader, has a weak resonance... but it seems to hold depth." The statue was of black stone and shaped like a lion in mid-roar. [[I'm into whatever. Lead on!]]
  9. Rhys does not waste any time. He rolls his sleeves back, tucking the lace in so it won't get in his way, and he begins lifting objects out of the pile. At first, he does not bother with sorting. He is moving them so as to spread them out so he can actually see what is there. The objects run a gamut, from simple every day shapes and objects like cups and vases, even a knife, to the more complex and complicated things, like statues and one bizarre miniature fishing net, complete with weights. The lines seemed to be made of silver and the weights of something harder than simple glass. A slow grin spread across Rhys' face as he felt the resonance within the objects. Some were strong, while others were barely echoes of the fiery battle of holding saidin. None seemed to really speak to a purpose to him... just power. Quickly, Rhys was absorbed in his own world, not paying attention to the other Asha'man there with him.
  10. Rhys was thrilled at the way things were progressing. Being invited to 'tidy up' the stores of ter'angreal in the Stone of Tear. Light! He quickly gathered his pen, ink and journals, and followed the Storm Leader through the Gateway. There were two Asha'man on duty, guarding the holding, but Rhys only had eyes for what came next. He studied the ward the Storm Leader unwove, and then when the doors opened, his eyes leapt from item to item. Their disarray was distressing, but there was so much potential here. "Do you have a preference on organizational patterns? I would think by size and shape... if only we knew their purposes." Rhys' body was tense, like a racehorse at the gates, ready to burst into action, waiting for the command. He was only just aware that Nox did not share his manic energy, but he could discuss that later with the other Asha'man. Perhaps over dinner. It would be nice to sit and get to know someone, yes... dinner and wine. He kept his eyes on the Storm Leader now, waiting for instruction.
  11. Rhys settles into his solid stance when Nox speaks. It's an interesting name, and the man who bears it seems layered. It startled Rhys to realize how many people were watching them. A number of Dedicated and Soldiers even... some of them he had begun teaching the theories of trade. The rules of trade in a village market are the same as the laws of trade between nations, just scaled for quantity. Some of the young men didn't understand why they needed to learn these things, but there were a few bright minds who soaked in every bit of knowledge Rhys could give them. He wasn't an expert, by any means, but he was the son of a Councilor of Far Madding, the former Husband of another merchant of Far Madding. He knew what he was talking about when it came to trade. He could see the smirks on some of their faces. He would have to re-establish his authority with them. Setting that aside, he focused on Nox and the Storm Leader. "The positive aspects are exactly what I am investigating, Sir, in my time between teaching the Soldiers and Dedicated. I have made interesting progress on rediscovering how to craft ter'angreal. If nothing else, I have developed several useful weaves even though I have not yet figured out how to imbue the weaves into an object."
  12. The other man's tone implied... interesting things, but before Rhys could reply to them, a much more senior Asha'man arrived. He hadn't wanted to gain the attention of a Storm Leader. Resisting the urge to wilt at his words, Rhys squared his shoulders and faced the other man. "I was working on a research project, Storm Leader. The results were less than ideal, but should provide good data." He pulled his hand away from his cheek, hoping that the flow of blood had mostly staunched itself. He kept himself parallel to the first man to join him, hoping that any could keep any fall out from landing on the good Samaritan.
  13. "I'd never had to wash blood from clothing before coming to the Tower." Rhys murmured. Then he came back to himself. He holds his hand against his cheek, noting the difference in feel between his fingers and the other man's. There had not been any folk that he had grown close to in the Tower, and none outside it since his time with the Tinkers. The feeling of warm skin on his own was heady. "I must apologize if my experiment startled you. Things, they did not go as I had planned them to." He blushed and pulled away from the other man. He made sure his notes were secure, then began bustling about the broken trough. "It really wasn't meant to explode." He laughed nervously. "My name is Rhys. I mostly trained under Asha'man Dendric. I didn't see you in my classes. With whom did you train?" he pauses. "Do you want me to take the blood from your coat?"
  14. Rhys was entirely distracted with making sure his clothing dried correctly. Once he had achieved the rank of Asha'man, he'd started wearing lace at his collar and cuffs again. He got several side eyes and many men snorted and laughed, but no one in authority told him he couldn't wear lace. And lace like this would wrinkle until the whole pattern was obscured if it didn't dry properly. It took feeling the hands on his shoulders to realize that someone else had approached. The eyes that met his were surprisingly calm, gentle... things one doesn't find in the Black Tower often. "Yes, I'm ready." Rhys blushed, and his cheek oozed a bit more blood as his face tried to turn red from embarrassment. Feeling around on the inside of his mouth, he wasn't sure if the shard had cut through his cheek entirely, or if it had caught in the muscle. He could feel Nox holding the power, and he had to quiet the part of him that saw that as a challenge. He wanted to seize saidin himself just to show his own strength... but he did not. He was his own Master. He did not need to answer every perceived challenge. Bracing himself, he waited for the other man to pull the shard free.
  15. The afternoon had passed slowly, the hours moving like thick honey on a chilly day, while Rhys worked to try to make a ter'angreal that could heat water. He hadn't yet actually made any ter'angreal, but he was confident that he could do so. Some of the others thought this was just how the madness was showing in him, but if that's it, then it's a relatively benign form of madness. Today's experiments involved a large trough of water and a cone of stone with weaves of fire and air spiraling up its length. Rhys wasn't sure how to make the weaves actually be a part of the stone, so he was still spinning the weaves onto the material then tossing it into the water, but that was providing interesting results. The cone shape of the weaves caused a small vortex of hot water to form, but the motion of the water cooled it at the same time. By the time the evening hours had come and the sun set in the west, Rhys had a journal full of notes, a cone of stone, and a trough of warm water... but still no ter'angreal. An idea struck him, and he wove the flows, then used other flows to mold the stone around the existing weave, and then anchored the existing weave to the insides of the stone cone. When he moved the cone, the weaves moved too... that was promising. He dropped the cone into the water, and the vortex began to form, the water began to circulate. Good... good. He reached out with a thread of fire to turn off the original weave, but it sucked in his bit of power. The vortex spun faster, the water grew hotter... it was beginning to steam now. Rhys tried to cut the fire and air weave with more air, with spirit, with earth even, but it just incorporated those threads into its own spinning. The water was bubbling, boiling now, and Rhys could see the cone bouncing on the bottom of the trough. Finally, he reached out with water, hoping to cool it down, but that was a mistake. The thread of cool water energies collided with the roiling weave, and the cone exploded. The water absorbed most of the energy, but the trough cracked as the power pushed out. The stones around the area shook for a second, and water jetted high into the sky before falling, drenching Rhys. He spun around and quickly wove air and a bit of fire to dry his journal and notes, and then began weaving to dry his clothes and hair. He didn't even notice the shard of stone embedded in his cheek.
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