King Tyosh was well on his way to arriving at the small infrastructure. He really couldn’t decide what it was, a fort, a castle, the Reuna keep? Probably a barn though. Still a nice fort filled with servants, all willing to fill dozens of mugs with ale and wine, it did have a certain appeal to it. Bloody hell! He was rambling like a madman. Maybe he was mad! A touch of the One Power in him? Now wouldn’t that be grand? Making things burst into flame and making random people float! He’d have to investigate about it, he’d heard there was a place where people like him, male channelers, could discover their powers and live in peace and training. He slapped himself right then and there. Him, Tyosh Reuna, a chaneller, Light! He was a lot more tired then he thought. Maybe a little rain would help to shake this slumber cloak off his shoulders.

The slapping had worked its magic, he started to regain the sense of himself, in a very harsh way. His body was aching, like a bonfire in his muscles, he was pretty sure that if he moved more than a few inches his body would start creaking. He’d be lucky if something didn’t fall off. But today he had the Dark One’s own luck, nothing fell off fortunately. But stretching out, was a bittersweet adventure, each movement a stab followed by a nice warm feeling. Any longer than this to stretch and he probably would’ve needed help getting off Arrow. Tyosh mentally revised his herb collection, maybe there was something in there to make a nice muscle ointment… mmmm that’d be good.

Tyosh betted anything that King Tyosh would have a nice carriage with Arrow, dressed in elegant armor, at the head of a team of horses, no a team of chickens! Giant horse-chicken! He’d probably be the only king with chickens pulling his coach, ha! Not even in the Age of Legends were Chickens so majestic, powerful, with coats so golden and shiny. And then of course Tyosh would stick his head out of the coach and give his wonderful speech of how well prepared the Tyoshean army was.

“Tyosh?” Were his subjects clamoring already? Heads would roll for not including his Royal Status!

“Tyosh is that you?” There was something about the voice now, in fact it was a real voice, or at least real enough to pull him out of his sleep induced fantasy. And then he knew he had reached not only the barn but company, the best company he had had in a while. “Indeed it is me Dilora, the king has arrived”, Tyosh said with a giant smile.

Tyosh rode on towards Tar Valon. His brief detour to herb collecting wasn’t all that rewarding. There wasn’t enough honeyroot and the primseeds weren’t in blossom around here. Not to mention he completely lost his companions, traveling alone after having some company really was harder than just traveling alone from the start. He really wished he would have at least told someone else to come along or at least went along with someone else. But alas at least he had his trusty War Steed, Arrow. Well he liked to think of Arrow as a War Steed but short saldean horses really can’t be classified as anything near Steed or Stallion… and Arrow going to war was just hilarious.

Boredom attacked Tyosh like a tiger on a gazelle. Thoughts were just bouncing around in his mind, but entertainment was scarce on a plain a top a horse. He’d seen bards and gleemen juggle on horses, he decided it was a skill worth investing in, and then his heart dropped as he remembered he was traveling with a Gleeman for a whole day and he slept and thought for the whole trip. Light blast his luck! He still stopped to pick up a few rocks and try his luck at horse-juggling. It was very unfruitful, but he kept practicing or something along the lines, maybe by the time he reached Tar Valon he’d be able to juggle at least on foot.

Rain was in the air and Tyosh knew it. He’d been spying on a little building for a while now, he thought he’d make it before the rain arrived, if it did arrive anyways. He sped Arrow on, he wanted a nice place to rest for a while. In his haste to try and reach his old party he’d rode on most of the night with out relaxation. But at this point he’d given up all hope, they were probably in Tar Valon by now drinking up a pint without him… Light he wanted a drink. Maybe it was the tiredness, but the hunger he was feeling was intensified ten fold. As soon as he reached the building he’d go out and hunt something this seemed like good game area. He’d cook himself something really nice, he’d break out all the good spices. Even if he ran out, he was going to have a nice little feast in honor of… something… When he was closer to the building he finally figured out it would be a “Welcome to the Building” feast! Fit for a king… without a court though, a nice gleeman would be nice, maybe a queen… and so he rode on to the building with fantasies of King Tyosh.

Nosae impatiently waited with his bastard sword in hand. He could feel the power of the weapon, and he was anxious to wield it in all its glory. But this was all interrupted when another man came up to the Blademaster, they then spoke in low tones. After their discussion had ended Aser turned and announced that someone else would be teaching them the basics, the female Blasemaster, Cari.

Nosae felt a bit of relief. The Aser fellow really was a madman and power hungry if you asked. Stabbing and branding just didn’t seem right. He wasn’t really sure Cari wasn’t just as bad or maybe crazy in some other fashion, who knew what she had in store for them.

"I see we've got swords today. This will be slightly different for each type but I'll help you master those minimal differences personally. It won't do to have you cutting your hands off before you learn anything." As Cari said this, she passed out wooden swords, Nosae felt a bit put out, not being able to use real steel was disappointing, but wooden swords made sense, losing a hand didn’t seem all that interesting.

"Before you can begin using your weapon you need to be able to move with it." Cari explained the different types of movements, and the correct guard stance, it all seemed simple enough. It wasn’t as simple as it looked though. The guard stance was uncomfortable to move in, he had no idea how anyone could stand like this for an extended period of time, much less move and fight. And he was right, he was doing it all wrong. Cari indicated that any type of trying to move in that kind of position would get him lots of falls and if he did manage to move smoothly he’d get hurt and sores to last him a lifetime. After a while of helping out, Nosae managed the correct stance. Advancing seemed simple after the help, but retreating was impossible. He kept on tripping over his own feet, or stumbling, at one point he even “stabbed” himself with the wooden sword, boy was he glad it wasn’t steel this time. Eventually he did manage to retreat in a very wobbly way, but he was sure that a few more moments of practice would make him a retreating master.

Nosae stood there listening to how little he knew, unaware of what was about to happen. Suddenly the teacher said: "Now, for those of you who doubt my words, I shall offer a demonstration. Defend yourself!" Nosae braced himself for the worst, but in a split second he realized he wasn’t the object of Thom’s attack. The man next to him was thrown a few feet back quite aggressively and without restraint. It would’ve been very funny if Nosae wasn’t worried about getting whacked around with flows of Air as well. He tried to prepare some sort of defense but it was useless, when the time came after a few words he felt the loss of being shielded. But before he could even react to this he was lifted off his feet by flows of Air. He noticed his other class mate was also floating up in the air. He could only imagine the other two were shielded as well, at least Saidin was completely drained out of them. Lifting two with air and shielding three Saidin holding channelers, making it all seem effortless. He was indeed a worthy master of Saidin. All and all he was glad he wasn’t the one out-winded by Air.

He was in this state of helplessness for only a few moments their instructor, Thom, released all the weaves and returned them to the ground, Nosae was grateful to have solid ground beneath his feet again. Once everyone returned to normal and recovered from the shock of loss and retrieval of Saidin, Thom went right back to his lesson. He weaved another shield for show and tell. The showing and the telling were quite revealing. He warned them all about the dangers of being shielded and how very un-useful and pitiful one became when shielded. He asked them all to make shields of their own. Spirit, that’s what it was all about. It wasn’t as simple as just applying Spirit, it wasn’t as easy it would seem. It kept unraveling or was just plain not a shield. But eventually he did get the hang of it and made his very first shield. He was sure to remember practicing it, disabling a fellow channeler would be ideal in a One Power Duel.

Nosae wondered how he could actually get away from a shield and was quickly answered by Thom weaving Spirit and Fire and cutting straight through his new shield. That easily and it was destroyed, it was helpful to know, but off-putting to know that his shield could be dissipated by a few seconds of weave work. The teacher explained how the simple weave could cut through any weave short of balefire. They were all told to practica the two weaves, as if Nosae needed reminding. But also to come up with a distraction weave. That’d be interesting, to see what could be cooked up. Unfortunately only to distract, no harm or fatality. What other way was there to distract without hurting someone!? But nonetheless he was sure he could include a little hurt, mild discomfort actually. It’d be fun to see someone choke.

Nosae descended into the dungeon the same way he always did. As he descended he felt the gloom penetrate into his body. The last few lessons were something that stuck with him. He had developed fears that should leave a person after childhood, fear of the dark, dogs and bats. The respect he now held for these creatures was impressive, if he could control any of them he would be feared and respected as well. These classes would help him reach the top, each step, a spawn he would use.

It was all about Graymen this time around. After the whole class had filed in, M’Bela asked the routine question, of previous knowledge of this type of Shadowspawn. Incredibly enough Nosae knew a bit about them. The old Lord had used Graymen, for his own dark tasks, Nosae had eavesdropped enough to know how dangerous they could be. When his turn to speak came up he shared his thoughts: “Graymen are assassins of the dark. They’re imperceptible and even if they don’t have any other extraordinary skills being able to blend in perfectly as if they weren’t even there is enough to parallel with any opponent.”

After the room had spoken its mind, the Dreadlady went into an eerie explanation of the level of commitment the Graymen to the Dark Lord. They donated their soul to the Great Lord, because of their commitment. They were Darkfriends on a completely different level, but because of this they gained their skill, the ability of invisibility of sorts. They were so normal, so bland so… gray they just mended into the background. Your eye passed over them like just another piece of wall or furniture, nothing special nothing to notice, unless you were looking for them. Looking for that lack of something, for the emptiness where substance should be. The Soulless, the invisible, the Grayman.

He could never consider the level of commitment required to turn into one of them, giving up your soul. Pledging your life is one thing, but living a half life… it’s terrible. Convincing others of this is another prospect, fun almost. There would come a time when it’d be necessary to make others give something up, something of great value. It’d be a feat to make someone give up their soul, but that is why the Dark Lord is the Dark Lord, and Nosae is just Nosae.

“So can anyone tell me how many are present at today’s class?” M’Bela asked and Nosae immediately knew that there was a Greyman in their midst. He looked, but it took a while for him to spot it, towards the back of the room. His eyes wanted to look away, but he kept his gaze on the Grayman, he latched on tight to the sight, even if he was slipping. After everyone had finally caught on the Grayman was dispatched with a nod. In the few minutes that it required Nosae to find the Grayman he could’ve been killed at least 5 times in a dozen different ways. This was unacceptable, he’d have to train himself for this, and he couldn’t let himself be terminated by a walking piece of wall. He’d have to be careful, they could be anywhere anytime, and you never really knew when it would attack. He’d have to come up with a way to be ever vigilant or somehow detect its presence. In a way the Grayman was even worse than a Mydrall even in broad daylight they were dangerous and undetectable. Nosae had no idea how he would be able to sleep from now on, so many things that go bump in the night. All this could only be solved one way, power… in great quantity. He’d make them all fear to touch him even if he had to be ready for war while sleeping.

"As a final sum up I want everyone to name the one thing they learned in this

course that they find the most valuable piece of information to themselves, and

why they think so."

Nosae answered truthfully and from the bottom of his soul: “The one thing I learned is that the way of the Dark Lord has Horses of War that are dangers to everyone and everything. And if you don’t inspire fear or respect or both in them they will probably eat you alive, with no second thought.” He felt it wasn’t much to say, but it was what he felt, it made him aspire to even more power, not to mention he now respected the creatures of the Dark now that he knew their powers and he knew he was on the winning side of the war of the Dark Lord and the Creator.

He left the dungeon with a feeling of satisfaction, he was on his way to greatness and this was just the first step. As long as he wasn’t sidetracked for good by a shadowspawn attack, other Dreadlords were sure to stoop as low as to send shadowspawn to do dirty work, he’d have to be careful…

Nosae had done wonderfully in forgetting his experiences from last class, but having to return to the dungeons was enough to make his skin crawl again, he might be all powerful one day, but he thought even that day he’d be illuminating the shadows and watching ever vigilante for the threat in the dark cloak.

In fact he just couldn’t concentrate, it all went back to that, but he did his best to listen to M’Bela. Today’s subject was Darkhounds, nothing surprised Nosae anymore, after the existence and study of Fades and Trollocs he was sure even trees could walk and talk. He had nothing to add to the flow of opinions and beliefs of Darkhounds, even the myths and stories he’d heard had been second hand and not much information, only that they were giant beasts that could run like the Dark One himself was after it. But still he said what little he knew to keep the flow of the class going.

But the things M’Bela had to say about it was fascinating, exciting even inspiring. The thing was indeed large but could run hard as a horse. Its bite was poisonous and it could leave its paw marks on stone, only the Creator knew how that was possible. "Now though if you will follow me I think all in all the best way to understand is by live impresions, something you should be used to by now." The words brought joy to Nosae, seeing such a creature in action would be amazing. The class followed M’Bela to a small gallery that opened on to a view of something similar to an arena, where there was a single man standing in the light everything else was pitch black.

There was a nod from M’Bela and a gate started opening and it came, the howling and the growling and the warning smell of the Darkhounds, sulfur. At first all that was perceptible were the beast sounds, but then as if shadows were detaching from shadows the hounds emerged. M’Bela’s lecture did them no justice, they were robust and powerful, graceful yet savage, and their kill was just the same. The man was there, but it could've been a deer or a horse for all the hounds cared. They took him apart piece by piece for lack of a better phrasing, but it was more like chunk by chunk. The man was there one instance and the next... it was as if he had disappeared not a mark or clue he had existed except in their memories. It was only a few moments but it seemed like hours to Nosae, the slaughter was beautiful in a very carnal way. Beasts like this one... oh they came around once in a lifetime, he silently wondered to himself what the OP could do to them, would he be able to put one down? Or would he just be a memory as well?

After it was all over, the Dreadlady decided one shadowspawn wasn’t enough for today. She lead the class lower into the Fortress, following an encounter with another Dreadlord, the class was barred into a small room. It was packed with the class, he wasn't sure what the smell in the air was but he was pretty sure it was fear, humid, suffocating fear. Even with all his One Power he was frightened silly, what if M'Bela let out a Darkhound in here? If you survived the Darkhound, someone's channeling was sure to get you. The best he could hope for was leaving with at least two of his memebers intact. He was about to embrace, when he was shielded shut from the Power, he dared not question it, but what was his Instructor playing at? Trapping them in here like rats and then shielding them? It was suicide. In his frenzied panic Nosae wondered what would happen now, another victim in the center of a room, maybe another close up look at the Darkhound? As long as it wasn't in here with them he was glad, he did however worry about the lack of light in the room... what if this was a final test? All the shadowspawn together somehow, he was about to panic when it finally emerged, the scaly winged shadowspawn. The victim seemed to want to run right through the wall, but failed miserably. Nosae found himself wanting to phase through walls as well, the crooning of the draghkar was… appealing, it was attractive in a way he couldn’t describe, he needed to get through. He pounded against the shield with all his might, it wouldn't budge, he pushed and pulled on the wall, to the point of banging on it, it wouldn't yield to him, but nonetheless he tried and tried, what if he never got to be close to that beautiful crooning? What if it disappeared forever from his life? But he saw something that immediately calmed the urge. The Bat-Spawn was waiting patiently, as a baby who waits for his mother to nurse it. The man had much will power to last for the few seconds that he did. But as sure as the sun rises, the man started his slow trek to the Dragkhar. There was inner turmoil, he wanted to, but he knew what would come. Sometimes you thought he was breaking through the curse, but no, he was enthraled. Would Nosae look like that one day? Walking surely and blindly to his death at the lips of a spawn? Maybe the man was happy to reach the source of the alluring music, personally Nosae was dying to reach the music. The victim certainly didn't seem happy was the kiss of fate was placed upon him, he looked worn, disdraught and then... And then the man was the man... but he was missing something, he was lifeless but in a very bland and blurry sort of way. "And this is the result of a draghkar kill" The man was a shell, less than what he had been and all because he couldn’t resist… he had been left with no soul.

With every single one of these classes Nosae truly began to appreciate the tools he would have at his disposal once he reached full status. They were fearsome tools, could one use tools that one was afraid of? Any one of these spawns could turn against you and then what would happen? You were doomed to rest in the belly of a hound or to have your soul extripated... He'd need the power he was training for in order to keep them in order but even so... there was little you could do when the spawn could literally attract you into your own death. He left the class trying with all his might to ignore any sounds that might sound... appealing.

OOC: Sorry everyone, if you need to stab me and let me bleed to death so everyone can post at normal pace so be it! But I’d really prefer y’know… not being stabbed :D

IC: "Very good, I'm glad they didn't send me any idiots. Now, follow me." He stabbed them, marked them and now insulted. This swordsmaster was just dying to… die apparently. Any One Power attacks towards this man intentionally or just out of pure reflex would probably have dire consequences upon Nosae. Revenge would be sweet but hoping for a clean slate afterwards was just being too bloody optimistic. Eventually though, Aser would get what he deserved… maybe a nice brand of his own, if he was lucky of course.

Nosae snapped out of his dreams of grandeur just in time to follow the rest into the basement where dozens or maybe even hundreds of weapons laid in a shiny death slumber. "You may select any weapon you wish to learn. I have plenty. Make your selections and meet me back outside." There could’ve been thousands of weapons but Nosae only had eyes for an elegant bastard sword. It had a simple pommel with leather handle but the blade spoke of good craftsmanship, Nosae was sure the pommel had been swapped to this from a much better match to the stylish weapon. With his sword in hand he reemerged in the yard and awaited further instruction, the waiting made him remember the ache in his chest, it wasn’t something he would soon forget.

Once everyone was assembled in the yard the swords trainer quickly made a display of how to care for weapons. Nosae had left that mansion long ago to forget about cleaning and servicing and now here he was doing it all over again. It angered him to no ends, it was necessary to pass on to greater things but bloody hell he was a bloody servant all over again! "Now, I need each of you to demonstrate for me that you know how to care for your weapon before I'll consent to teaching you how to use it."

The years of practice of cleaning and polishing had made this a routine, he quickly went through the procedure with ease and sheathed the bastard sword ready for his next move.

OOC: I’ll pick up with everyone next post

*detaches 5ft from the time-space continuum*

Nosae anxiously descended to the grassy field outside the fortress. He tried to be as punctual as possible and resulted in being one of the first among the group to arrive at the location where the classes would be taking place. There wasn’t much to see or do here without starting something which he preferred to avoid. He wasn’t here to be entertained though, he followed his basic instincts and studied the two people he fathomed to be the instructors of this course. There were two, a male and a female. He guessed the male was the official teacher, seeing as how he could see the weaves and warn of any errors or whatnot. The female was probably here as an assistant, maybe even deprived of channeling all together.

He analyzed the man, there was nothing to make him distinctive from anyone else in the fortress in fact he was pretty sure he’d never seen the man. But nonetheless if he was giving a channeling battle class he must be very competent. The smile he wore seemed sincere enough, but really just eerie after getting used to the stone cold faces that were the fashion around the fortress. Nosae didn’t mind the coldness of the people around him, he was honed to not feel any of it. Years of servitude to dark friends really changed the need for other people into the need of absence of people.

Eventually the rest arrived and the master proceeded to introducing himself as: Thom Malard. He didn’t speak in length, but he left one detail extremely clear: “However, I cannot stress enough that at this point, you know nothing.” Nosae thought Master Thom was exaggerating greatly, he had learned quiet a lot in the fortress, they might not be the greatest at attacking or defending with the power, but not being able to defend at all? It was ridiculous, he’d make Thom see how much he knew.

But the battle instructor wasn’t presuming too much of his course and of his own skills, Nosae was in for the class of his life, he truly had no idea how little he knew.

Nosae returned to the basement where he would learn and grow more than he knew. In fact this time around he was going to getting a bit more than he was expecting a true sight into the eyes of fear…

His guide through the shadowspawn, M’Bela, initiated today’s class with a truly frightening comment. "Myrddraals they can come out of any shadow there is..." The implications of this fact made hid quiver a bit. They could be anywhere really. It truly made him feel that the Shadows claws were indeed long, lethal and ever present. He reminded himself mentally never to let his affiliation with the Dark One waver, he’d never be able to stop the hunt. But he pushed the thought out of his mind, the Myrddraal were on his side, he’d sworn to be dark through and through.

“However first i want to hear what you know yourself of these creatures, what stories have you learned of them, and maybe with the last class in mind, how much of these stories do you believe to be true?” His opinions and comments on the Fades would be scarce seeing as how he’d never actually seen one, and had always lived a closed life in very private quarters. But some things were whispered about them, the moonless night quality of their clothing, how their blood could ruin the best of steel and the sickly quality of their skins. When his turn to speak came up he said as much and stated how he had no reason not to believe any of this.

When everyone present had spoken their minds about Fades, the dreadlady launched into an absorbing monologue of the birth raising and adult life of the Neverborn. Nosae almost felt sorry for it, living among beings who would rather have you dead than alive was something he knew about. But he caught himself before he fell for it, these were creatures that became horrific twists of reality, anything that could defy so many laws of reality had to be something of incredible worth and power.

"Now if you are done consuming the info then you will turn slowly and keep yourself controlled, any atempts on channeling will be met with shielding." Nosae should have seen it coming, but he didn’t. As he turned around he saw it, he’d never seen one before in his life, but that dark cloak and pale complexion were too telling. He was able to study his features for only a second more before he was painted in the color of dread. He was too frightened to even think, he wanted to scatter himself into thousands of pieces and avoid that gaze… that eyeless gaze. He wanted to break away from the stare but it was strong, as if a few dozen men were holding his face in place for the leer slaughter.

Nosae was pretty sure other thoughts ran through his mind but for all the power in the world he couldn’t remember. The stare of the Myrddraal stuck with him long after the Fade had stepped into the shadow, in fact it stuck with him even after he was safely in his quarters with the less amount of shadows as possible.

Tyosh rode on listening to the Blademaster, Rosheen’s, story. It was amazing how she could make her story, which was sure to be filled with astounding details, sound so very hollow, as if she was trying to keep it all secret, hoard everything except the lightest sketches of her past. But Tyosh supposed it wasn’t his concern anyways, everyone had issues they wanted to keep secret and so he kept on listening without asking anymore questions while they quickly closed in on their destination.

Something seemed to be amiss though, the closer the pair got to the inn, the more hectic the streets seemed. It wasn’t uncommon for the streets of Caemlyn to be thronged with people at these early hours, preparing for the activities of the day, selling their wares and in general getting an early start on the day, any advantage was worth having among the merchants and peddlers. But the present street occupants weren’t in a preparing and dawning spirit, quite the contrary, they were bubbling, effusive and practically bouncing around from excitement.

Tyosh wanted to ask around a bit at what had the people in such frenzy, but he remembered the haste they must make once they reached the inn, stopping now would delay it all, and that could cost them dearly. He did however strain his ears to almost One Power like sensitivity. He wasn’t very surprised when he heard “ogier”, even though there seemed to be talk of more than one, but that was just probably rumor, it twisted facts in an insane manner. But hearing about a brawl distressed him a bit, maybe it was a common tavern brawl indeed and not a dark friend attack, Light it might even be another inn on the other side of the city. He was just being paranoid for sure. And yet the doubt was enough to make him speed up to a fast canter.

The trip to and from the “Howling Monkey” inn was a thing of less than an hour, but time seemed frozen for a while there, as if the Creator himself had slowed it all down to make minutes seem like weeks, maybe even a month. But after his month long journey of rendezvous with Rosheen he was finally back to the inn and certainly enough the origin of all the rumors.

After Rosheen and himself arrived at the inn, he quickly made his return known to the rest of the party. But the party wasn’t the same party he had left behind, there was a new young lady who seemed to be coming along for the escape ride and another addition which would be somewhat hard to miss was the mysterious second ogier he had heard about. Tyosh would have to get to know both of them later on, because everyone seemed ready to go and just waiting for the new arrivals. Nerome’s horse was a fine beast but no horse compared to Arrow in his mind so Tyosh quickly regained control of his own horse and saddles and was ready to ride when the peddler, Dilora indicated the need to ride out north, but he followed another lead that the peddler didn’t speak, the preparing of bow and arrows.

*bites... his steak!*

Nosae licked his lips expectantly. Free rein to attack a person with no channeling skill whatsoever, he wouldn’t even see it coming. He figured he wouldn’t necessarily attack, seeing as his arsenal of weaves wasn’t exactly an arsenal yet. It’d be a small use of Air and Water that would choke him enough to make him splutter and cough a bit, distract him from using his weapons.

Nosae’s anticipation of today’s work and the exhilaration of being able to channel on someone had clouded his better judgment. He didn’t see or expect the knife that flew towards him and penetrated itself deeply into his shoulder. He had no idea if he imagined or actually heard a sickening gurgle emerge from the wound. Any thought of channeling immediately abandoned his mind, the pain emanated in sharp pins from his wound. He wanted to tend to his wounds, maybe gasp for air, try to brace himself for more pain, but the order was clear, "No! Leave them!" He wasn’t about to risk punishment in addition to the already mounting pain of the knife, he stood his ground and breathed in ragged breaths.

Aservus stood before him and twisted the blade in different motions before extracting the weapon. The moment lasted only seconds but in the fires of hurting it seemed epochs had passed. And the fires were hot indeed, hot enough to make Nosae’s body a mass of twitchings and flinches. He had stabbed them and then tortured them! Light the man really wanted to make an impression! And then it was out and a rag replaced it to stop the flow of blood.

After the man had recovered and cleaned all his “equipment” he faced them all and asked, "That will scar up nicely and you shall have a constant reminder of the lesson you just learned. Who can tell me what that lesson is?" One of his companions answered, Nosae agreed, but felt a little something was left out.

“Well besides making us face our mortality, it teaches us respect, in the hardest way possible. I for one will never underestimate anyone with a sharp object near me again.”, as Nosae ended his statement he eyed the weapons master warily preparing for another surprise attack. This was going to be no walk in the park.

Nosae sincerely didn’t enjoy being outside the Fortress anymore. It had taken only days to get used to being able to channel freely without having to worry about stupid authorities and idiotic commoners who didn’t understand the power and didn’t appreciate the gift of channeling. There would be a day of reckoning, he was hoping it would be sooner than later, a day when he’d spread his gift all over, the gift of destruction and chaos. Then they'll see who's really master and who are just servants, he thought cynically.

Nosae paid no attention to his surroundings, he was too busy imagining the day’s task. He’d never even held a sword unless it was to retrieve it for someone else. He had no idea how this would all go for him, but he hoped he learned proficiently. The stories in the Fortress were plentiful. Powerful and skillful channelers caught off guard and struck down by and arrow or a careful knife to the ribs. He wouldn’t end up like them. He was not above the use of arms, pride killed too easily.

He trudged along in the same fashion as his companions, serviceable clothes and sturdy boots. His blue linen shirt and brown wool pants wouldn’t hamper him in the least and that’s exactly why he chose them. He made his way along with his fellow channelers to the house they had been pointed to. It was nothing out of the ordinary, not a place you could point out as housing a weapons master of the darker sort. But, alas you never truly knew anything about anything.

I'm almost at #8... man I'm awesome...

"ALL SPAMMERS TOMORROW RAENA AND MSDANYA UNION CEREMONY THERE WILL BE A THREAD MADE SPECIAL AND IT WILL BE THE ONLY THREAD WHERE YOU SHOULD POST WHILE THE CEREMONY IS IN PROGRESS... SO IT'LL BE SPECIAL"

Good going man! I'm so proud!

*eats brownies*

*knows cake is the right thing to soothe and gives min some cake*

Nosae quietly listened to his class mate and silently nodded and agreed with all that was being said, but he felt that the seemingly calm young man wasn’t expressing true desires in his response, he was being calculated and precise. That was all well and nice for others but Nosae was driven by his desires. His passion was the only thing that helped him reach his current place in life. And so he didn’t really think his answer, he didn’t exactly blurt out his response, but it was impulse and instinct that drove it out of his mouth.

“Excuse me Mistress M’bela, I agree fully with him.” Nosae said as he chin-signaled towards his fellow adept, “Knowing the different types of trollocs would definitely change the tide of a battle. But does knowing which kind of trolloc follows authority better and which tribe shuns outsiders help in any way if one doesn’t apply an iron hand to the commanding? Taming wild beasts like these is not a task to be dealt with lightly. I’m guessing ordering around a trolloc without force is likely to get oneself killed right? Orders without force are nothing…”

And on that note Nosae ended his opinion on trollocs and awaited a reaction or response from the others present in the room. But before anyone even opened there mouth Nosae got his responses in the form of somewhat lethal glares. Maybe they had been glaring since he had walked into the room and he had just noticed, whatever the case he felt quite threatened , threatened enough to almost grasp for the One Power...

Yea! Him... not being me...

Consent before anything!

*tries to hide Danya*

He might charge at you Danya... :shock:

*makes no sudden moves close to Kad*

*wonders if Kad can do the Super Mario 3 trick*