by TiSmeB4U on Tue Mar 06, 2007 7:47 pm

Hi,

I would like to get approval for the following outline for the Wakeup Call RP needed for WS 14 Req. The RP outline is as follows:

Grudge Match

Open to everyone, this RP will be centered around the challenging anyone to a grudge match, challenge a guard or trainee, challenge a warder to embarrass them in front of their AS if you think you can. Challenge a Master if you dare face the humility afterwards.

The RP is designed in two parts. The challenge in which you challenge your opponent to met you on the field of battle, perhaps subtly or perhaps full of confidence and jeers. The method and boldness of the challenge is your's feel free to have fun with it. The match is the second part. This will take place in the fields out side of Tar Valon (location to be disclosed at a later time). Here you will meet your opponent in the friendly (and not so friendly) art of combat.

There are three distinct challenges available for you to face off in, You can choose one, two, or all. This is completely up to who you challenge. The challenges will be as follows:

Strength Competition;

Here you meet your challenger in a good old fashion game of tug-o-war across a pit of sweet aromatic swamp mud. The looser get the benefits of ex-foliating with a natural skin cleanser 

Endurance Competition;

Here you race against your opponent to fill a barrel with water. The barrel is placed on a platform 10 feet up. You must race from the rivers edge with a pail and toss the water into the air to fill the barrel. First person done wins, you can add option to this for the looser if you both agree, such as the looser receives the full contents of both buckets as a cool down. Or they have to climb to the top of the platform and cluck like a chicken. 

Dexterity Competition;

Here you meet your opponent on the obstacle course where you must work through a series of rope lines and logs to reach the end. Under the obstacle at various points are mud pits and water holes, can you stay on or do you end up in one of these messy stopping points. Feel free to add to the challenge, make your opponents life miserable. Perhaps you want to complete the course after you both have been cover in oil. Ever tried to walk across an oiled log? Or perhaps you want blind folds, remember the challenge is between you and the one you challenge. What ever additions you agree upon within reason should and could be looked at. 

The whole object is to have some fun and see if you really are as good as you think. You can either determine between yourselves who will win ahead of time or you can ask for a ruling on a winner and both agree to the resulting ruling. Rulings will be done through dice role with accounting for discipline and WS.

by silhouette on Wed Mar 07, 2007 1:40 am

looks good to me, go forth and make it so 

and be sure to invite Rosheen.

by TiSmeB4U on Wed Mar 07, 2007 4:25 pm

Thanks great one.

I shall start trying to lure victims ... errr ... challengers to the game then

by Matalina on Sun Feb 25, 2007 8:17 am

Duty thread has required number of posts I don't have a problem approving that even if it's not completely finished... tho if you can I suggest finishing it but as far as reqs are concerned you can get credit.

The same with Leadership it has the required number of posts. Still the same suggestion.

However you cannot use three Helping Other requirements in the Defender level 12-15. You will have to complete one more requirement and change it in with the 13 or 14 slot.

Only two reqs per WS slot can be dropped in favor of helping a trainee.

WS Slots: Warder/TG (8 - 11), Defender (12-14), Master (15-17), Grand Master(18-20)

Mat

by TiSmeB4U on Tue Mar 06, 2007 12:54 pm

Thanks for the help Mat, 

I have removed the assistance threads from WS14 and will add a planned thread to replace it one I have one planned out. Sorry I completely over looked the cut point between the WS groups for those assistant threads.

by Matalina on Tue Mar 06, 2007 1:25 pm

no problem.

Ali

by TiSmeB4U on Sat Feb 24, 2007 12:23 pm

Hi Powers that be,

I seem to have run into a snag and was wondering what my options are?

My Duty thread all though it is slow is still progressing for WS13, however my Leadership thread for WS14 has completely fallen apart and most of those involved are either no RP'ng that I know of or have already addvanced beyond where this was started. I can see if they are intrested in continuing retro like but too many of the group are no longer here to make this work. I also had done an open thread for WS15 but had not posted anything here as yet as I had a feeling the Leadership thread was going to fall apart.

This brings me to my questions. Can I swap or add the Open thread found here: http://www.dragonmount.com/forums/viewtopic.php?t=7813 with or in addition to the present status of the leadership thread and get the WS level or do I have to completely redo both threads? If I can combine and / or swapp the leader and open thread to complete a WS can I move them to the WS13 to recieve that level and the Duty thread witch is still running to the WS14 level so that when it is complete I will then recieve WS14?

Please let me know what my options here are?

Thanx,

Corin Danveer

Balance Discipline, Path of Misdirection

"Experience is not always the kindest of teachers, but it is surely the best" - Spanish Proverb

Corin's Progress

WS8

WS9

Justifying discipline choice.

http://dmpsw.com/dr/viewtopic.php?t=929

TG Ceremony (Complete)

http://www.dmpsw.com/dr/viewtopic.php?t=1020

Moved to Dragonmount board here:

http://www.dragonmount.com/forums/viewtopic.php?p=61898#61898

WS10

Reminicing with another PC in Tar Valon.

http://dmpsw.com/dr/viewtopic.php?t=688

WS11

Open thread in the Tower. (Complete)

http://dmpsw.com/dr/viewtopic.php?t=966

Reposted and completed here:

http://www.dragonmount.com/forums/viewtopic.php?t=428

Thread based on Character (Complete)

http://www.dmpsw.com/dr/viewtopic.php?t=1050

Reposted and completed here:

http://www.dragonmount.com/forums/viewtopic.php?t=1516

WS12

Use training electives, see the following 2 threads:

http://www.dmpsw.com/dr/viewtopic.php?t=749&highlight=

http://dmpsw.com/dr/viewtopic.php?t=1010

Thread based on Character (Complete)

http://www.dragonmount.com/forums/viewtopic.php?t=2376

WS13

Use training electives, see the following 2 threads:

http://www.dragonmount.com/forums/viewtopic.php?t=1585&highlight=

http://www.dragonmount.com/forums/viewtopic.php?t=2661&sid=983ca92b2a36994e8f1da49a065bb906

Duty thread (Complete)

http://www.dragonmount.com/forums/viewtopic.php?t=7627

WS14

Leadership thread (Abandoned)

http://www.dragonmount.com/forums/viewtopic.php?t=8192

Wakeup Call (Approved, luring people  )

WS15

Punishment (In Planning)

Blademaster Ceremony

WS16

Use training electives, see the following 2 threads:

http://www.dragonmount.com/forums/viewtopic.php?t=3092&highlight=

http://www.dragonmount.com/forums/viewtopic.php?t=2969&highlight=

Corin Danveer

Balance Discipline, Path of Misdirection

"Experience is not always the kindest of teachers, but it is surely the best" - Spanish Proverb

TiSmeB4U

Tower Guard

Thanx Mat :D

*glances around*

Guess I should be there too please. :)

Okay,

  So for those of you who have noticed, I've been away or mostly absent for most of the month of July and will not be back until about mid Aug. (For those that haven't :p  )

  Anyway, those who I have had a chance to talk to know the reason for July, needless to say things are getting better. The Doc has given me permission to travel and I am out at the lake now and will be until mid Aug. (Okay at the moment I am not. But I am on my way back. No Inet service out there. ;)  )

  I will see what I can do to offer a helping hand when I am back.

Good Luck.

I know it will be far to late. But if it's still there and looking for post at the middle of Aug when I get back I will post for you.

Sorry about the time delays .... just a bad time right now it seems.

Shadows overcast Isha’s face like none he had seen before and Linten for a moment pondered the over step. But only for a moment, as the big man made short order of the distance before Isha’s over sized hands rested heavily on his shoulders. The twinge of pain that tried to leap forth from the grip was lost on him. As reaction from the training Isha himself had put him through had Linten wrapped in the void and separated from the pain. Saidin sung to him and he placed himself on the verge of its grasp. He did not want to come to blows with his tormented mentor; never wanted to be the cause of hurt or destruction to Isha.

~Yet he abandoned you so easily, with out thought or care~

The voice leached more poison to his mind but he paid it little heed as his eyes focused on glaring anger in the single eye of his mentor and began to plan his weavings. He did not want to hurt the man, but he would not go down without a fight if the need arose. The unspoken threats hovered over Linten like his towering mentor. But where Rion was involved it would be of no concern to his mentor. That was now a deeply rooted personal battle and no man, including his mentor Isha, was going to stand in his way. He remained motionless, his face as neutral as he could make it with Isha towering over him and the annoyance of emotions flooding through from Faile. A thread of urging caught his attention from the mass. She wanted him punished? Well she would soon find out that it was Linten alone who would be the purveyor of discomfort.

In short order he found his attention to the teaching of Faile slide away as he stared in part amazement at the Aes Sedai as she turned on Isha. The seething anger that had been simmering lightly in the back of his mind and trading jabs with the knot that shared it lurched to the forefront. How dare she make demands here. She is less then a guest, less then a trusted servant in this place, and she makes demands!

The sudden tingling sensation over his skin moved his mind to action. Without thought Saidin was in his grasp and a weave already beginning to form to hand before he quelled his desire. Only after the tingling stopped did he release Saidin once more and was happy that the fool woman had occupied Isha’s attention so completely he did not notice his mentee’s actions. At least he did not comment on it, but instead rounded on the women. Finally it appeared that perhaps the man who could so readily threaten one of his own. One trained and schooled under him was going to put this witch in her place and bring her properly to heel. But the thought was fleeting and gone quick as yet another comment was directed toward Linten.

Quickly raising his hands he shook his head in mock disbelief. Oh they would be punished alright, but it would not be mentee, no, it would be the bloody witches. That he silently swore and oath to ensure. Only after Isha broke their stare did he let his hands fall to his sides, lightly closed fists forming. Lecture her on her channeling, not me. If not for the bond that tells you her pain I would stripe her hide myself for it seems you have become far to soft my mentor. Visions swam through his mind as he released the void and embraced the anger that awaited him. Visions of the foolish yellow witch on knees in the center of the yard. Hair matted to her face as she hung in the lock, skin raw and chaffed in the blistering sun. She would not be so bold after a good humiliating flogging. Or perhaps to sever her touch to Saidar and turn her loose in the enlisted barracks. Indeed, both would remove the smugness on her face. But neither was possible with Isha holding her leash and fostering her as he was.

“That goes for you as well. Don’t think you are special any more then your wi .. your sister over there. I give no such permission, ever. His eyes swung from Faile to Eqwina and back again. He would have to tread lightly around Isha. But his witch at least would learn her proper place. Regardless of Isha’s view of him or the one he held bound. There was no way under the light he would become a sniveling fool around these Aes Sedai. He surged the bond with loathing and challenge. She could keep her mask of perturbed control. It was a mask, and masks could be removed, or broken.

“So now that we know each other Isha. How are we to work through the arrangements of the Black Tower and its misguided guests?”

Linten’s face remained a neutral mask of mild curiosity as he continued to study the boy. Another with unknown ties and allegiances to the Aes Sedai though at least he seemed to have a sense of distance about him in their regard. There was chance then that he might yet fit and find a way to the true service and need of the Dragon Reborn. But only time and careful observance would answer that question. Something that would be long afforded a boy being so new and still so distant to the call of Saidin. Unfortunately time was not a luxury afforded many men, Linten was on of those.

“Well my boy in that later regard I’m sorry to say you are in short order of distance. So you will not be frightened I should warn you there already exists several Aes Sedai in our happy family.” He watched the boy carefully to gauge his words. “They, for the most part, are well in hand. But you would be wise to watch what you say around them. Most definitely watch what they tell you and how much you take to heart. Remember you are now sworn to the Dragon Reborn, not the Aes Sedai and their belief in being the leaders and true salvation and the Light. As you stated they have a place in the Great Battle. A place under the Dragon Reborn who we serve. Keep that in mind and close to your heart. With that knowledge you will see many things here while you train. Don’t be afraid to ask the questions that will come to your mind if you are truly observant. I will answer what I can should you seek to ask it of me.”

Allowing the weight of his words to sink in Linten lifted his mug to his lips though none of the bitter golden liquid entered his mouth. He needed his senses sharp if he was to return to the house with her still stewing there. Again he stabbed at the ball with contempt and happily noted a returning wave of the same emotion. Soon she would be ready for another session.

“As for your other myriad of question I can only answer a few. You will most likely be bunked in the recruit quarters, but that will depend on your mentor. As for who you talk to, Arath will see to that all when he returns. I am afraid the best I can offer you is a short brief tour before I have to return to … other matters of pressing need.” The need to straighten out that witch and put her on knees on the floor again. The thought was dark, but short of a brief shadowing to his brows; an almost knitting of them. He bore none of it to the boy seated across from him. He would have to make his own path. If it was the correct one Linten would aid and teach him along the way. If it was the wrong one … he left the thought unfinished. He had enough to deal with already and a shortness of properly secured trust in others.

OOC:  HEHEH .... Just remember, you all left him alone. So if Linten happens to make a gain, the fault rests solely on the rest. :p *grin* What happens when the welcoming committee is absent I wonder?

Corin had heard it said that the touch of a nobles silk against the skin was like the fluttery softness of butterfly wings upon the skin. As Lavinya lightly kissed her way up his neck he was sure that nobles silk would feel like burlap compared to the soft sensuous texture that fluttered over his skin. It was as if the wheel itself had stopped time and granted him this one gift in life. To know a free and willing love without gain or game to shadow it's transference between them. What he had done to receive this gift he no longer cared. His only thought was that of the contact between them. The contrasting sudden pain that flamed in his earlobe briefly from her teeth only seemed to shoot a raw edge of exhilaration through him. How was it she knew his body so well though this was the first time they had shared such intimacy? In fact it was the first time he had ever been this intimate with any woman, how was it she could be so satisfied with him. He felt like he was trying to tie the laces of a ball gown with the heavy mitts of winter duty. So awkward it must be for her. But the warmth and outpouring in her eyes for him eased the thought to the back ground and away as his hand lightly pulled at her elbow.

She was a vision of beauty even with the mass of red curls matted to her cheek and brow. His free hand brushed them lightly from her face, emerald gaze watching each one move to reveal more of the soft high cheek bones that made up the Creator's masterpiece. The delicate dance their lips accomplished made even the steps of a grandmaster sluggish and awkward. He had never imagine that such complete satiation could be reached through a passion filled kiss as that which Lavinya engaged him in. He could loose his entire being in that meeting alone and never miss the day that passed. Like a flower opening tender peddles to the radiant sun. Corin had opened himself to Lavinya and the lessons of life and love. Had anyone voiced it before he had met her in the garden that he would be secreted away in a small clearing like this he would have laughed. Even after that first shaky meeting he still would not have believed the path would lead to this. The strictures of the Aes Sedai that she held as an honored title was long gone. For a time now he had not seen her as such. Only the woman, the sweet child looking to be found. That was what Corin knew her as, envisioned each time he saw her. It was the same sweet girl he had been willing to protect against the hormone infested men that chased after her skirt with thoughts of their own pleasure in mind. Now it was his mind that was lost.

His arms encircled her and pulled her tighter to him involuntarily. That was not what her purpose was. The creator had not placed her here for other men's pleasure; a toy to be used and tossed aside. She had far to much love to offer if they would only slow down enough to take the time to see that. See the child that lurked behind the facade and wanted desperately to be loved. He loved her, but he loved another as well. How much of this was really love and not the searing heat she created in his blood. He had know he loved her before she had begun these lessons. He just seemed to feel closer with her now. But even that closeness, the oneness they had shared, that he wanted to share again, could not break the fact he could not give over his heart entirely to her. Even in the passion filled haze that was his mind Sirayn lurked. Slate gray eyes disapproving and harsh watched and recored his every weakness to use against him when the time was right.

When their lips finally separated and eyes found equaled need in the other the small twinge of reason that had been building fluttered away like ash on a wind. There was only two lovers under the Creator's night canopy sharing the precious gift oneness bestrode on them for the time span that existed as long as the suns rays did not kiss the horizon. He trailed kisses over her bare shoulder to the nape of her neck and relished the pimpling of her skin under the contact of his breath. The sigh from lips barely parted, full from their dance with his own, encouraged him further. Rolling them both over, Lavinya in his arms, he looked down into the deep brown pools for a moment with awe; “I would not trade this night for anything this age or any other could offer. Thank you Lavinya Morganen. You are a very precious woman.” Sealing his words to her with a kiss he let her lead him again in the art of love and entwinment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The cool air of a pending dawn chilled the droplets of sweat still lingering on his body from the exertion of their sharing. She had taught him well and loved him even better. Her hair matted and damp spread out like a crowning fan around her head, his finger once more sweeping stray stands from her forehead. He was propped up on an elbow studying the soft feature of her face and the intricate lines that gave it such exquisite shape. She looked so peaceful laying there, her breath still slightly rapid as she recovered. Pride filled Corin that he could return such wondrous pleasure to her in kind and the smile of her face lit her eyes with such happiness. The light press of lips to his hand surging contentment through him a new. If only the night could stay with them longer, hold her near him for a spell more. But the wheel waited on no one in it's turning and the pattern flowed forth in a continuous river of lives twined and un-twined with out beginning or end.

From somewhere unseen he could feel the thread of fear growing in the pit of his stomach. A thread that was continuing to grow in their after glow. A fear that he may not be able to refuse her should she request anything of him, including his very life. Ice shot through him at the reality of the moment and the promise he still held to another. Her words should have been honey to his ears. She loved him, more then words her true emotions flowed heavy through those three little words. But all he could offer her was a warm rich smile to try and cover the treachery that lurked in his mind. His tongue itched to betray his love for her as well. But ironically it was the steal cold training of the one he had promised himself to that allowed him to still it.

The instant she separated from him and began to dress he craved her return and felt relief in their separation at the same time. The hurricane of emotions that had plagued him before this journey began from the armory were beginning to return and gaining power as they did. As he stood to dress he felt her eyes roaming his body again and could not stop the flush that heated his cheeks while he stole glances at her silhouette in the soft moonlight. Once more he had to figure out how to explain to her his true life's path; would he ever be able to explain this to Sirayn? The thought sent a shiver through him he tried to hid as a reaction of his cooling skin. With his clothes loosely in place, she requested his services once more. The request strangely had him nervous and fumbling like a new child with the small buttons, her skin feeling warm and tender to his finger tips. How she so simple enraptured him this night was mind boggling.

Collecting the sword from where Lavinya had tossed it at the beginning when he had tried to explain how he had a future different then what she envisioned, brought his eyes upon the great serpent ring. The ring she had haphazardly tossed at the same time; the symbols of what they had become. Regardless of the people they were deep down and the dream they were living now. Duty and reality awaited them both with the sun's rising. Once they left this grove they would return to what they were, an honored and wise Aes Sedai accompanied by a guard of the Tower sworn to the protection of all that called the Tower home. All included the one woman who despised his touch almost to the extent Lavinya seemed to cherish it. He handed the ring back to Lavinya and took her hand. It could wait no longer. He had to tell her the trouble and torment that she had brought on herself by loving him. “Lavinya ..” Her finger quickly sealed his lips and a moment later were replaced with her own. But only a brush in comparison to the exchanges they had already shared, a brush that still left him wanting the contact to continue.

Her plea to him tugged deeply at his core, still she wanted to know him. She of such hight and wealth of knowledge still wanted to see the lowly guard; a human shield, life sacrificed for another. As much as it should not be, as much as he could not meet her. Corin could equally not refuse her and so in silence he nodded acceptance and turned back toward the path they had entered on; her arms wrapped around one of his own as she lent close to his frame. The walk back to the yard was decisively short, The regal Aes Sedai appearing from the path; slipping from his arm to walk in perfect normalcy at his side. He accompanied her to the steps of the Tower before stopping to gaze in her eyes once more and let them share a last exchange of tonights closeness. Part of him longed to reach out and draw her back in but instead he offered her a formal bow. “Lavinya Sedai, it has been an honor and an extreme pleasure to have accompanied you this evening. I look forward to our discussions later in the day with trepidation.” He did not lie,but the nervousness was in how he would explain everything to her. He had allowed himself to slip. An error that would gravely change the relationship between them and most likely cost them both great heart ache.

With one last long look he turned on heel and slipped back into the waining night. Dawn would be arriving on the horizon soon and with it the return of life to the yard and the Tower. He had much to think about and by right. Much self punishment for what he had done to a wonderful innocent woman.

Corin,

Troubled mind returns

Quiet contemplation, or at least separation from the stubborn witch now sharing his head. It was bad enough with one person in there besides his own sanity, now there were two. He stabbed the knot with a flood of contempt and it responded in kind. He was never going to find peace now,. At times he almost wished for the one he was familiar with to return to it’s old bantering ways. So silent it had become since the bonding.

~You would be to if you had lived through what they did to us.~

You are back? Not afraid of the whimpering witch any longer?

~I am afraid of no One!! ~

Sure, Sure. Tell it to someone that actually believes you. If you are so fearsome, tell me a way to bring her to heel goat kisser.

~Why did you have to bond her? A witch, are you mad?~

Am I talking to a voice in my head?

His thoughts were interrupted as Arath entered with a young boy in civilian dress. Arath was still a puzzle to him. He thought, after much deliberation and watching that perhaps he did not worship the witches of Tar Valon as Rion did. But he was still not sure if his stand would be on the right side of the divide if he was to present it. Thus he was still a man that Linten watched from a distance but with an interest. As an instructor the man did a good job. Though he seemed to find entertainment in provoking people at different times, Linten being one of them.

A sudden glow surrounded Arath as he drew Saidin in; it called stronger to Linten now that someone held it near him. It always did. He would hold the sweetness day and night if it would not draw attention and he was not worried fatigue would cause him to slip and allow it to burn him out. He watched as Arath wove both the weave for the flame and the shield around them to reduce the amount of sound reaching them. So a new recruit perhaps is it? Linten watched half heartedly for a short spell before ordering another ale to replace the warm one in front of him that he had still not lifted.

Time seemed to stretch on forever as the boy and Arath stared at the flame between them. Linten would have cast him off long ago. It was obvious the boy did not have the talent or it would have … the weaves disappeared and the glow surrounding Arath vanished. He listened as the boy was sentenced and then Arath called away. Interesting this little tid bit. How strong he will be is yet to be know, and if it has taken him that long to read the boy then it will be a battle in the beginning just to find Saidin. Memories of his own work with Isha floated to view, the call of Saidin once more singing sweetly from just out of sight.

The boy sat quietly lost in his own thoughts as he work through his ale. Memories obviously haunted him as unshed tears glistened his eyes before he downed the mug. Linten ordered another as he calculated the most comfortable place at the boy’s table. Unfortunately the boy had been seated to a table in the middle of the common room which left no chair with it’s back directly to a wall. After much internal deliberation he decided against the move to the others table and instead caught his eye and offered him the one opposite his own.; The new mug of ale already waiting.

He waited for the boy to seat himself with his small pack at his feet. “Not much for belongings. But it won’t matter. Everything is supplied that is required for necessity, even these stylish black outfits.” His hands pulled the front of his tunic slightly with a sadistic smirk. “The hard part is the loved one’s we leave behind. Once you enter the service of the Black Tower, you lose all claim to a past existence. Too easy for the w … the women of the White Tower to trace. You don’t want and Aes Sedai finding your family do you?”

He left the question open. It was one of many ways he used to begin to profile others and determine where their allegiance might lie in the coming years.

OOC: Linten is a Dedicated, means he has the shine silver sword pin at his collar. 5’5”, sandy brown hair shoulder length and green eyes. Welcome to the Tower ;)

Linten stood stolid watching her at first. The witch was far to composed save for the unrelenting anger that flooded the bond. Anger that fed Linten’s desire for suffering. This witch would know fear when he was done with her leash. She would know it or die in the learning. Even the cold anger in her eyes served only to heighten his own. There were ways the weaves taught to them to take life could be altered and used for persuasion. This is what the future held for his slave. The Dragon needed the witches, but they needed to follow orders. This one would give her life if need be for him to learn ways to create the needed persuasion.

If she die while bonded to him who would take note. He would have to make sure it looked like nothing more then her own doing. Tricky but if needed he was confident he could find a way to give the right appearance. It was all in how the evidence was portrayed. But death didn’t have to come to her at the start. He still had experiments that needed subjects, now that the yard contained several of her type. It was just a matter of securing the right number. An idle thought strayed across his mind. A question to ask her when the time was right and she was pliable enough.

Her words washed over him and as they changed they began to boil his blood, he let seething hatred flow freely through his side of the bond. The women was mad with her hysterical laughter, had her mind already cracked? Fear … what had he let slip through the bond from the nightmare that held its grip on him this morning. How much had she heard; the dark twisted scene in his mind given to voice from his treacherous tongue. He had to find a way to control those terrors, find a method to keep the dreams at bay until he could rewrite them. Each one had been different, but some even felt and tasted like reality. There was something wrong with his dreams surely. Perhaps if he approached Isha he would know what it was that made them different. The sudden appearance of her back, as if he was a child being dismissed, set the tinder dry composure a flame.

In two short strides he had her shoulders; spun her just before the door and pressed her to it firmly with his left hand as it squeezed around her next. “You know nothing of fear do you? We shall see how long you can hide the lie behind that ingrained mask the White Tower has chiselled into you. I will hammer it from you and introduce you to your true heart before I allow you the sweet release of death.” He could feel her hands at the one he had mated to the soft delicate skin of her throat. A little more added pressure and this could all be over; though he would have to explain the incident to Isha. A prospect that offered little comfort. Isha’s past was steeped deep in honour for women. Unto itself that was not a problem, the true flaw lied in the fact it included the witches as those honoured as well.

“This boy as you so eloquently put it will be the one you bow down to in servitude. Like a new filly I will break you. Make no mistake about that. You get to determine if it is with the sugar or the cane. But if your insolent tongue persists I guarantee it will be with the cane. Now get out of here while I change. But do not leave the common room. If I have to look for you I will ensure you do not sit well for a week!” He held the grip a moment longer before releasing her and turning his back. Saidin still held at the ready should she be foolish once more. But to add weight to his dismissal of the haughty woman while showing her that he was not afraid he released the shield as well.

If she embraced the One Power he would have her before she could weave her first. She scared him immensely. They all did, but he would not give them the satisfaction of knowing just how truly scared of them he was. His focus while his back faced her was split between awaiting the tingling sensation that would sweep over his skin should she embrace Saidar and keeping all forms of emotion dormant in the bond beyond annoyance. The only emotion he felt he could control enough to focus completely on.

A smirk cracked his façade at her simple reminder of proper etiquette. There was a deep fire in her that he was finding intensely entertaining. It was a shame he hadn’t bonded her as well as the fool red already in his service. It could have been interesting to feel how there emotions swept along being bonded together and forced to each other’s company. Perhaps he could add that as one of his experiments. A glint flashed in his eye at the thought and was gone.

It was Rion’s name that had his demeanour changing without his control. His eyebrows climbed his face as his gaze swept to the location where the man’s house sat. Rion, Rion the witch lover controls her? He stepped back from her another foot before realizing the move and stilling his feet. He could not let the witch be the reason his plans were discovered. If Rion were to find him near her he … what could he do? There had been nothing that had specifically transpired between them that would call for further checks into his affairs. Still, his eyes swept the yard once more. If she was his then… a myriad of dark whimsical thoughts swept over him; a sinister smile growing on his face as he locked to her gaze once more.

“So, you are anxious to be at your chores then.” Flows of air lifted the axe from between her feet and floated it to her hand as the wrappings that held her loosened and dissipated save for those holding her rooted in place. “It would be a shame if you were late and had to be disciplined for it. I’m sure the punishment would be fitting the crime.” His voice was low and barren of emotion. He could not afford to play any into his voice now for fear his desire toward the other man’s blood rung true in it. “I look forward to our next meeting m’lady.” He offered her a mock bow, but the renewed glint in his eyes still spoke of earlier promises. “It will be memorable I am sure.” With that he released the final flows on her but held Saidin at the ready in the chance she fell to her foolishness and he need make an example of her.

His arm swept out toward the path she was originally headed on while his mind worked on all manner of things that could be dome to the body to inflict pain while leaving little trace. If Rion held her bond then bloody Rion was going to think the witch mad when he was finished with her and the emotions that would be sent to him. Once more his lips curled in an unpleasant smile. There was work to do before his next meeting. A meeting he planed to hold in private.

Linten

The bloody woman was thick; there was no two ways about it. Thick and stubbornly stupid at times. His hands unwrinkled the letter for the fourth time since opening it, and reread the lines anew. Mindless violence indeed, as if she had not started that whole untimely downspin at the cabin. The thoughts only seemed to darken his mood further. How could the light blinded woman not see how much he cared for her? That in her presence he would do almost anything to gain her touch, her …. His hand trembled slightly, the letter still clutched in its grip. Lavinya had spoken that word to him in the Ogier grove the night of his lessons; spoken it again at a new meeting. “Love”; his voice seemed to echo in the darkness of his room. Lavinya had loved him then, loved him unconditionally and all he did was hurt her. Did he love her as well? Did he love Sirayn?

He placed the letter on the table afraid his grip would rip the weakened parchment and started at the words once more. If one were to read the letter as she read all her conversations with others. Then clearly a suggestion was not the same as a decision stated plainly. That being the case then the suggestion that their association came to an end could be interpreted in a completely different manner. In fact, if she believed he would read it as such then she could in fact write to him in such a manner to avoid true intent by wandering eyes as the message worked it’s way to his hand. “Smack!” His hands clapped loudly together. Of course that’s it. She didn’t want to break off the relationship but she still wanted to keep the impression of difference between them.

He slipped a new piece of parchment from the desk drawer and pulled the inkbottle and quill close. Dipping the pen tip in the ink he drew it carefully along the bottles edge and then brought the pen to hover over the top left corner of the paper. How he was to reply was daunting him, the pen re-dipped several times to return to it’s hovered position before he finally began to draw it over the parchment.

Blessed Mother,

  May the light illuminate and celebrate your lengthy rein of wisdom.

    I understand your misgivings on matters related to past experiences. Indeed it would appear that your belief would be the only logical explanation to draw between the two points presented. I offer to you that perhaps, though the line does seem straight, it is indeed drawn off from true linear fashion by an unknown point in its trajectory. This unknown point I believe is fear. Fear brought on by a lack of truth and tainted by perhaps a past vestige that has been in part, a concrete factor in the solidifying of a certain belief’s placed against actions of the past.

  Although my skills, as you have so graciously over stated as extremely poor, are not to the level I would have liked. I hedge to state it is indeed not as bad as you have thus far expressed. I openly note your use of the term lie as part of your teaching. We both know you are not capable of that since your oath swearing for the raising to the shawl. I invite you to find once more the student who’s open mind you collected in the past and continue to build from there the tool that you and I both know can exist.

    My blade is sworn to the tower; you are the tower. My blade and person is at your service as you see fit.

In dedication,

Corin Danveer

Tower Guard

Her lips were soft heat, yet they barely contacted his before fleeing, her promise thick with desire. Now, now he would find the truth to all the stories he had heard in the barracks and taverns. Now he would know the warmth of a woman and understand why men sought it so lustfully. Here he would begin his education in a foreign art. His body trembled with anticipation; the strange need still gripping his blood with an unnatural fever. But her hands slipped from his, soft delicate warmth gone, the cool night air replacing their touch. Eyes searched her’s as she stood afraid this was the moment he dreaded. This is where she would laugh at his inadequacy and leave him alone in the dark with the shame.

But she did not leave him. Her slippers came free of her feet and were placed delicately next to the cloak. How she could remain so calm, so decisively slow in her movements bewildered him. Even as she moved in front of him, his eyes devoured her body. His hands burned to tear away the cloth covering her and let his eyes fest on her true form. His mind was a chaos of confusion, was it right to feel this way? How could he have such thoughts about one he was to protect? Did all men feel the need to rip the cloth from their desire or was he especially touched by the Dark One’s own thoughts? It raced a shiver down his spine that stopped suddenly as Sirayn’s soft unconscious face bloomed in his mind. Did he want that from her, could he feel such need from her?

The thought was brief; his eyes demanded his minds attention, the soft fabric of the dress slipping slowly from her true form. Indeed, he no longer cared what the world thought, what other men thought. His whole focus, beyond beat of heart and draw of breath, solidified on Lavinya before him. His mouth was dry and his hands trembled but he could not take his eyes from her. His name; how sweet a sound his name from her lips. Corin let himself be drawn to her and lost his identity in her teachings, reason, for the moment lapsed from conscious thought.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Slowly the world around him returned to focus. Dark shadows of the trees who had witnessed the carnal act began to take shape. The silver ray’s of the moon registering in the fog of his mind. Never before had he know such sensations; the burst of an illuminator’s night flower behind tightly shut eyes. It had all been over powering, and yet he could not deny that he enjoyed it, wanted it still. The sound of his own blood still surging in his veins still cut most of night’s creature’s sounds. He had been taught a lesson; whether he passed or failed at the moment he could care not.

He could feel the beat of Lavinya’s heart through the soft contact of her neck against his side. It still beat with excursion but no longer raced. He would have to try and remember to ask about that later, that and the strange relaxed warmth that held him. He closed his eyes once more and drew again the warmth from their entwined contact. Perhaps the pattern would find grace in allowing the night to play on for eternity. Never have to face the dawn and the duties it held. He felt her head leave his chest, his eyes opening to meet her’s. The look that filled them pulled at him though he could not describe it. Something beyond peace and happiness.

He resented the separation until her lips met his once more. He followed her lead as he had done all night; tried to drown once more but the contact was short before again separation met him. Confusion touched his eyes briefly, had he done something wrong. But her words eased his mind and renewed the smile on his face. So openly uplifting and supportive, something at great odds to the woman he was to swear his life to. The suddenness of the intrusive thought brought with it remembered images. How would he explain this to her? Did he want to? This was the place he should be, the feelings he should feel. She loved him; had stated it with her own mouth, with her actions. She had taken the time to understand him, to open up to him and share a deeper part of herself. The smile returned again, had taught him about a heat so intense by right he should be burned to a crisp. That was what he wanted, to hold her in his arms and never leave this place, this feeling.

But the images would not leave him, the grey eyes watching again his every thought. “Oh Lavinya …” the words a slight whisper from betraying lips. “How can you cause such an incredible and over powering force in me.” Yet I cannot keep you like this. Not while I still repair damage to another. Another I must serve in a way that will likely be even closer then this. Thankfully his mind had the sense to still his tongue before it could further betray his internal turmoil. “I am lost and I don’t know if I ever want to be found.”

He would have to face her. How would he justify this to her? How could he possible expect her to understand his weakness to the woman that now rested beside him; could feel her eyes still on him. His glace moved to the cooling deep brown pools of Lavinya’s eyes. She regarded him so openly, so welcomingly. How was he to tell her, to explain how he was tied to another. A bond is a bond, why not Lavinya. Her life is precious to you, She holds a part no other woman will ever be able to touch now that she has shown you such intimacy. But the Tower and the world, they need Sirayn. The woman that has taught you so much; the woman that you have already pledged to if not verbally. How can you go back on that? Tormenting chaos began to ebb back into his mind as the sweet heat of their joining continued to cool. “Can be as one …” bonded she will know my thoughts and emotions and I hers. I may even finally know her heart.

Lavinya’s fingers moved lightly over his chest and drew his eyes and mind back to the present and the intensity of the time they had just shared. He offered her a warm smile, his hand gently stroking her beautiful red locks. Somehow he had to tell her. “Thank you for the most amazing of lessons. I only hope I have returned half of what you have given me this night.”

Linten

Lost again

A small thrill of excitement rushed through him as her complexion changed; and noted flush of anger and a raised chin. This one held defiance within, they all did. But this one worked to keep it controlled too as the haughty Aes Sedia composure swept over her. She would be a fun one to break; the picture of her on knee’s begging stoked the unnatural warmth in his heart. But he refused the grin trying to tickle the corners of his mouth. It was not yet time for it’s appearance. Not yet, but soon perhaps she would see the grin. See and know that her education here in the Black Tower was to get very personal.

The deepness of her hatred for him flowed out in her words unhindered by the mask that still tried to hold her face. Inside she must be yearning to be at his throat, boiling at being captured and enslaved to them. But that was nothing to the shame that would sweep her when he put her in her rightful place. The shame she would know when she became willingly submissive. He drew a deep satisfying breath as the vision once more bloomed in his head. The one side of his mouth quirking slightly toward that hidden grin. But before that he would have to ensure her leash owner was someone he could get around. Someone who would give him the wider range of freedom he would need.

“An Aes Sedia eager to be at her chores?” his finger rose to pursed lips as if in deep thought before they split in a sinister smile belaying his enjoyment. “I thought Aes Sedai had children and commoners for such menial work,” mocking contempt filled his voice. His hand grasped hers firmly again, “defiantly not the hands of someone familiar with such manual chores. No matter, I’m sure it will not take long for these to match your stature woman.” He had slowly been circling her as he spoke, the flows of air had been adjusted to keep her head facing forward. He released her hand as he slipped past the range of her following eyes.  “Make no mistake, here you are a leashed pet. Do your chores well and you maybe rewarded. Fail and you will most certainly be punished.” The tone held in his voice was akin to that of a casual conversation, nothing more then simple stated fact.

A tone that changed rapidly when fondness entered his voice at words of punishment. “There are no others to save you here, no people to cater to your every whim. Here your rights are below that of the average dog. So yes woman, you are a pet and the leash whether seen or not is attached.” He stepped in close behind her, his hand sweeping the red mass of curls to the side in a clenched fist. “You have not answered my question as to your new master.” He leaned in close to her ear, a smile so big it could be seen in the tone of his whispered words. “Don’t worry wench, finesse is something you will find a new meaning for. As for barbaric love,” he nipped her the edge of her earlobe with his teeth. “That I will make sure you are very familiar with … pet” the last was almost more breath then word but there was no mistaking his belief in her position.

He held the moment for the span of several breaths before stepping back and releasing her hair. His eyes darted around the yard quickly to ensure he had not brought too many eyes upon his little meeting. Most we busy at there own tasks and preferred not to acknowledge the women’s presence. As long as she was in the company of one of their own they would probably not pay that close attention. However if her leash holder were to see them, that could become a rather sticky situation. He reminded himself of the need for caution and discretion while in the openness of the yard.

Delicate steps, checks and balance were the order of the time now. That sudden appearance of witches on the outer border had changes so very many things in his home. He had felt safe, secure. A place where he could learn how to survive this gift the Creator had blessed him with, only that had changed. Now the witches; those that hunted his kind; had hunted him, they were here. Worst still, one of them was in his head, he could close his eyes and point to the exact location in Isha’s house behind him where she sat. He wanted to stab the knot of frustration and anger that was nested in the back of his head. How much of his private thoughts could she sense, did she know about the voice? A tendril of fear rose and was swept quickly away. He could not afford the emotion. Not if there was a chance she could figure out what it was associated to.

The new item that sat rotting in his craw was Isha’s reactions. He had not expected his mentor to take the care of the witches so close to heart. The meeting in his house had proven that fact. It meant he would have to put more planning and thought into the education of these witches. If his own mentor was going to put him self out in front of the witches then Linten would have to find a way to get around the imposing wall. He was not yet ready to face the man that had once been like a father to him. Not yet, but if need be, soon. I pray that it never has to come to that between us. There were others he still needed to train, to lure in to the knowledge he held. Then there were those who needed an education in just what exactly a witch was capable of given the opportunity, and how they should be properly broken to server the Lord Dragon at his calling.

The sudden jar to his side caught him by surprise for an instant until abundant wild red hair flicked into his view. Her words brushed across the clear surface of the void, training had infused it to his reactions; though it could not hid the fevered look that flashed in the glint of his eyes. She was familiar to him, he had faced her, or she had faced him. He was unsure now of a lot that had happened that day. But the stench of scorched flesh and fresh flowing blood lingered in his mind, brought to life once more with recognition of her.

Flows of air slipped quickly around her as his vision caught sight of the axe in hand. Tendrils that pressed arms to side tightly, and secured her feet to the present piece of earth they stood upon. Who’s insolent child is this?

~ Do you wish to tempt your fate with the giant so soon? Are you so confident in your skills that you can take the whole tower on your own? You fool; do you even remember all the ranks that had arrived, that had bonded these … these creatures? ~

The venom in the voice as it hissed it’s displeasure of them echoed in his head and fed the hatred already present. Between the insane ranting of the voice and the ball of agitation and cold fury in the back of his mind, anger held a firm hold on the voids surface and screamed to be embraced.

“You seem to have lost your way wi …. Woman.” There has no warmth in his voice as he addressed her, barely correcting his term for her before his tongue brought it to her ear. Faile may learn his true term for them in time, but until he knew who held her leash it was a caution that he would be forced to accept. His hand closed over the one she held the axe with and began to apply increased pressure until he felt her try to remove it from his grasp. Only then did he relax his grip enough to remove the axe. His thumb slipped lightly along the edge, “rather dull to be chopping wood. Or was there something else planed in that little mind of yours.” His wrist twisted quickly sending the axe through the air and edge first into the dirt between her feet. “Tell me trinket, who holds your leash?”

Linten

Frustrated

The wheel turns and man's plans are forgotten, the threads twist and bind creating a rich closeness and then are thrust to opposite sides; plans anew are formed and lost. The pattern is all the wheel knows. It's threads, the lives of man, can do nothing beyond their bending to the will of the wheel and the calling of the creator. Even plans well set and thought through can compare not to the weave of the wheel. Thus the sudden darkening of light over him; an all to familiar shadow blooming up from behind him to bar the brilliance of the sun from his head did not come entirely as a surprise. True, had he been paying attention fully to his surroundings as he had been taught he might have better know Isha was behind him, felt his eye on him. But his personal lust for payback was a far sweeter seductress to dance to, the firm squeeze of his shoulder drawing up a brief tensing of muscle before mind could dissipate the suddenness of the contact.

“Mentor Talcontar, what a pleasant surprise to see you.” Pleasantly unfortunate in fact. Emerald green clarity cut in sharp movement to glance at the man looming over him; eyes meeting one for a moment. Lies and caution, promises and guarantees passing unspoken in the brief meeting before they returned to take in the bait. “I was hoping to tempt Jocelyn here in to a game or two of stones. Perhaps improve my skills before we play again?” An internal struggle surged through him as he worked to keep his voice light and the smile on his face. Isha's presence was not part of the original plan. He could not offer the cold bitting words and dark looks to Rion should he show his miserable face with Isha present. The man would have him back in the blight before the dust from his foot steps settled. No, everything hinged on Isha never finding out. He had to keep his mentor in the dark and unknowing until all was accomplished. Only then could he approach him for forgiveness.

In the mean time he had already invested time and energy into this pretty piece of bait. Time was far to precious a commodity now and he could not afford to start this stage all over again another time. Even though he would almost prefer to eat his own tongue rather then offer words of encouragement or pleasantries to that witch loving cockroach of a man. He would find a way to make it through such pleasantries until a time when certain shadows no longer fell on him. Besides there was a chance that Isha would find the game very boring if she accepted and perhaps move on before Rion's arrival. Another quick glance at his mentor dissipated that wisp of misty hope and feed anger into the thin tendril of revenge that lazily drifted within. Waiting like that of a smoldering fire for that quick rush of air in which to violently bloom back to life with an untamed vengeance.

The words had barely left Arath's mouth when Linten threw his full force into an attack on Aslan. It was a perfect plan, take out the man at the disadvantage. He would not be able to maneuver the axe that well on the ground and if he rushed enough force at the beginning he might be able to force him back enough to allow himself time to break through the shield. But Aslan was lighter on his feet then he had looked during the training and parried the rush. They began the dance and Linten noted how the man seemed battle wise. Linten presented several openings that would have allowed Aslan a small less detrimental hit but at the same time leave him open to Linten's blade in several kill patterns.

Frustration began to mount as the man once more moved back and away from another opening. It was only then that Linten remembered the extra part to the new spar; the man was baiting him. Holding him at bay long enough to break the shield. Frantically he sought the shields surface as he eased back on his attack. Felt it's smooth glass like surface and began running his imaginary hand over the surface delicately probing for a difference in its consistency. Movement off to the left drew his attention and brought Ged into the mayhem, or created mayhem threefold. Stepping just shy he felt the breeze as Ged's sword slipped across the air just short of his cheek. Anger surged over the void's surface; the study of the shield once more lost and he focused on the new intruder, cursing the man under his breath. He moved as if to return the near cut only to have Aslan's axe dislodge his sword from one hand , the cut swinging wildly off to Ged's right. Quick foot work saved him from the second blow by Aslan.

Again the man backed away, a reminder of the need to break the shield. Stepping back to allow Ged access once more to Aslan, Linten put the greater of his focus on the shield and it's formed surface once more. Fingertips slipping over satin, he probed and moved on, probed again and moved on.

~Fool its child's play~

The difference suddenly seemed to leapt to the invisible fingers. He had found it ... or it had found him. He was not sure how it happened but he could feel it now. Timidly he worked the spot and found almost like a thin looping. His focus followed the loops slowly slipping further into the abnormal surface of the shield. Saidin called stronger to him now, but still refused his touch. Light flared around Ged and Aslan almost simultaneous. Need filled Linten, he knew the other two held the source and he did not. The loops end abruptly, still trapped from Saidin, yet so close to it's caress. Linten let out a howl and dropped to a crouch on the ground hoping to avoid what ever weave the other to were working. As he dropped he pressed out on all sides of the deadens loop in the shield; threw himself against it and felt Saidin rush into him. A torrent of pain and stench washing through him as the light surrounding Aslan winked out. Ged, the man must have re shielded Aslan. He threw a weave of air toward him, and watched as it struck nothing and dissolved.

Teeth clenched into a rictous smile as he threw himself at Ged, River undercuts the bank swept toward the man's stomach and contacted with full force. Even as the motion carried him past his opponent he could see the man doubling over. It was the last thing his eyes recorded before the ground under him seemed to burst up, launching him into the air. He felt his jaw jar as he hit the ground and blackness took him. How long he was out he could not say. But as he came to and his vision slowly slipped from it's fuzzy first impression to clarity he became aware of the lack of battle sounds around them. Arath was standing next to Aslan, they seemed to be discussing something. He cared not for what the man had done, his beef with Arath was his own. The man Linten's eyes sought as he slowly claimed his feet once more was Ged. Cold fury offered in the intense stare while his hands brushed the dirt from his shoulders.

OOC: I guess I loose, so if Arath is kind enough to post a quick something for Aslan or the training group then I'll post the laps and how much I loath Ged ;)

A plan so simple in purpose at it's hatching had twisted to reveal it's true weakness when he had sought to ensnare Sirayn that night in the armory. His first great failure and the start of a continued slide of failures. Even false hope had given way to resignation that she would remain the one to pull the string and he would dance to them, not the other way around. Through that acceptance had bloomed the respect and love for the cold and distant woman he had begun to seek after; strive to please and found a wealth of satisfaction and self worth in her praises, or what she offered for praise. But Lavinya, that had been a quandary that he had never imagined would find it's way into his life. So soft and warm; never had anyone so physically beautiful with such abundant love in her heart been interested in him. Other men yes, stronger men, better looking men, rich and powerful men. But not a simple man like himself, destined to a life of servitude to others. They only paid him heed when he was at Sirayn's side, a method in which to access her or information on her. It made no sense that she would seek him out, that she would find any interest in sharing with such a plain man.

Her fingers, soft as a rose pedal set points of fire on his flesh as they gently collected his face. Once more he found himself lost in the deep brown pools that made her eyes. A depth so complete a man could be lost forever and never wonder why or if reality would ever return again. He could not help but lock eyes with her as her hands brought his face to hers. A radiant angel showing pity on a wretched fool. Her breath an inferno against his skin with her soft words of encouragement. How could she not see how weak he was, how pathetically weak he became to the desires of the flesh. A proper and good guard would be able to resist this test, to maintain control over himself and keep her honor intact. So weak, his mind raced with the stories of desires and the warmth of a woman. He had never more then laid eyes on a naked woman; even that was from a great distance in his youth as he spied from the depths of the brush out toward the pond where they had bathed. His cheeks flushed deep with heat at the combination of his memories and the soft light caress of her lips on his forehead. Tension and resolve slipping away with each kiss.

Each set of words she sealed with her lips to him. ”dishonor me ... warm hearted .... your thoughts ... just feel ... without warmth ... without love ... please ... love you.” His mind was a wash of heat and demanding need. She had spoken her consent, asked him, needed him. How could he possible refuse her? Had he not brought this on himself? Lead her down a path to the doorway of hurt? He had to leave, to rise from this place and run to his room, run and lock himself away before he could hurt her further. She saw a man he could never be, selfless, noble. These were not words to describe him. Sirayn had it right, he was a scoundrel, evil and vile. He must be to bring as much hurt to her as he had, as he knew he would when he fell to her. Like watching a battle rage before you from the sidelines, he knew he would not resist her; knew he would remain here and be what ever it was she needed; what he needed now. Somewhere deep within hatred and disgust for himself coiled in waiting. It would lash out and strike him once the heat that filled his veins cooled. Even that knowledge could not save him now. A vision of Sirayn started to form and he pushed it away at first, then grasped it tightly. She would watch what she had done to him, watch as he lost himself to another. She had to watch, she was the one who had pushed him away. Turned her back on hi at the cabin and let him broken; easy prey for the one that now created this uncontrollable heat within.

His mouth was dry, could not seem to find the moisture it needed on it's own. A voice once strong and filled with control and decisiveness now cracked and wavered with heat and fear. He had never been this close, never knew a woman in the way she wanted them to be. “Lavinya, I fear I,” he swallowed hard. The dryness of his mouth causing his tongue to stick to the roof for a moment. “I am no longer able to resist you. I don't want to hurt you, please know I do not wish that.” Her fingers running through his hair lit every nerve ending in their path as he leaned in and joined her lips once more like they had before. His final resolve broken, resistance completely shattered. He was hers now. What ever Lavinya requested, he would fulfill for her. Breaking the kiss; his trembling hands collected her face as if touching a delicate and fragile flower. “Duty is lost to me now, I know only you; am here for only you. Please,” unshed tears shown in his eyes as they sought hers, stared with shame at his own reflection; his voice broken. “I ... I have never ...” His throat tightened, choking off the words momentarily. She looked so open and loving at him, a look he had sought so long to find. “I know not how to please you,” his head dropped in surrendered and humiliated resolution; “I have never lain with a woman”. Now she knew he was not the man she had thought him to be. She would laugh, laugh and leave him to his own self pity. Life proved once more it's cruel desire to stretch him to breaking and then toss him aside like so much rubbish on the street. His hands releasing her face and folded dejectedly in his lap prepared to receive her scorn.

Corin

Surrendered

The tip of his sword seemed to call to him the need to find flesh to taste, but this was an exercise and not a true fight. He had to remember that and not get caught up in the moment. Repeatedly he reminded himself it was not the blight; the misshapen forms had not found him again. His edge pulled back ready to arc out for Ged's mid section when Arath's commands tickled his ear and reluctantly brought the sword down to his side; eyes still watching warily the man who had been his opponent.

Being singled out with the other two did not help ease the tension growing between his shoulders as the rest left for their run. It would appear that they were to be made examples of. A position Linten drastically regretted. His comfort was in the shadows; see but not be noticed. That chance had past and now it seemed it would be a new lesson today. A lesson in how far he could push a man with all the control and skill in his favor. Aslan stepped up immediately upon the return of the runners. The axe handler was brave if not stupid for his choice of weapon and opponent. He had seen the axe used from the saddle of a horse and it indeed was a deadly affair. But from the ground it was like running at death with arms open wide. A fact that Arath made pointedly once he stepped up to Aslan. One thing that was a benefit to watching the axe handler take his marks was that it gave Linten a moment to see some of the style Arath employed with his blade work. Not that it would help him all that much, but it might give him a chance to stand toe to toe for a moment longer then Aslan had managed.

Two swords ... bloody ashes, two bloody swords. Take the fight to one for a moment perhaps but two. Any attempt at attack would be met with both a parry and a counter attack all at the same moment. His mind whirled trying to find a solution to crack the nut he would face. Watching Arath help Aslan back up he drew a deep breath in preparation for his future speech. He hated speeches. They were games of nobles and commanders of great armies. He was neither and wanted nothing to do with either of those professions. But if there was to be an end to this morning before the heat took it's hold then he had to get this rashness taken care of. Arath's eyes swept over Ged and himself in silent command, it was their only note that one of them was expected to move next.

Stepping forward Linten brought up his sword and ran a finger along the flat side of the blade. “Steel, folded many times in a forge to produce a blade light and strong. The sword is one friend you can count on when you need it. It does not have the heavy head of an axe that will throw you off balance. Nor the distance of an arrow shot from a good Two Rivers bow. But close in, it can protect you like no other save that of Saidin. He swung the sword back and to the side, it's flat surface contacting the back of Ged's hand still wrapped around his own sword hilt. The touch was benign and seemingly harmless but the look that floated across Linten's vision when he met Ged's gaze spoke of a promise to finish the spar they had started. “But it is a tool, only as good as the hands that wield it. I will challenge Asha'man Arath like Aslan before me and you will see how easily any weapon is turned away when a skilled handler meets one of lower quality and training. This you will always find so you must remember that nothing in fighting is fair. You fight to win, to survive. Not for honor. That is a fools goal and a quick way to the grave. If you fight then it is to survive; survive any way you can.

He lifted the blade across his chest again, free hand running over it's surface as if trying to pull memory from it. “Survival is not fair,” the words had barely left his mouth as the blade arced out and around at chest height in a slightly wobbling sweep. An attempt to take his new opponent by surprise. But the blow stopped decidedly short as it met both edges of Arath's blades. The dance was on, and the man had already seen some of his tricks, reducing the likelihood that any might be effective enough to land something. Stepping back quickly to imitate the mid guard stance he had seen Isha use so many times in the past. Linten's mind worked to find the next opportunity while his tip thrust toward the man in random patterns. He would not strike with those. To ensure he did not take a quick blow that would end this he had kept himself outside the range of either of their weapons. Drawing back as if to swing for the head once more, Linten slipped a knife from his sleeve and sent it toward the man at the start of his movement. With the knife fluttering winks of flashing silver from the sun's reflection toward Arath's head. Linten dropped to a knee again the arc still in motion but the lowered stance brought it in line with the man's thigh.

Fruitless; the desperation move saved the counter attack for a moment as one blade deflected the knife and the other his blow. Sweeping a hand across the ground Linten collected once more the soft earth. But held it for a moment; waited for one of Arath's blades to commit to an attack. Then the debris from his hand hurled toward Arath, Linten spinning to the side in an attempt to make the back of the other. Once more his blade bounced harmlessly away as it met the power shaped edge of Arath's. Frustration was in full force now. His mind reached to Saidin to even the hands dealt them. He would not get away with this humiliation. But he came up short once more, the shield still in place. Arath began his attacks in quicker succession. Panic tried to grab Linten; memories from the dark north battering the void's surface while his mind hurled itself at the clear smooth glass that held him separated from Saidin. A slight smile seemed to curl the Asha'man's mouth as internally Linten battered wildly at the shield trying to seize Saidin. His attempts even more chaotic as Arath began to press him; Linten's steps backing as quickly as he could, but his opponents blades seem to come from everywhere at once.

~You will learn now boy, you will never be a match for an Asha'man. Fool!~

His head seemed to fill with the mad cackling laughter of his mind's trespasser.

OOC: hope you don't mind the assumption of the smile with Linten tries to get through his shield. Also, Linten would tend to try and swipe at you if you at the end chose to assist him as you did Aslan. After all you did say any way ;)

Sahra seemed to wear so much of her emotions on her face that is was almost alarming. After spending so much time in the presence of one that showed nothing at first he had thought perhaps she wove a trick to guide him to a dance he would not readily step out on of his own accord. But the more they chatted the more he became aware that she truly was that fresh with her display of emotion. The smile during his words of home and family was warm and thoughtful had he not been a student in Daes Dae'mar then he would have found a great compelling in that look to continue further in his heritage. Likewise the frown at his question in reference to Fior and Aran spoke of a subject she had hoped to avoid, secrets she preferred to keep buried. Curiosity and a burrowing need to know the reason behind her resistance swept through him; mind working on other avenues to broach the subject for a new crack.

There had to be a reason the two did not get along. Corin could think of several of his own for why he hated the man. But those all revolved around Sirayn and her protection. Why Fior would find hardship with the fool was a mystery that needed to have light shown on it. “ No I am afraid beyond his own personal need to find something in himself, I have no idea why he departed us. But it was with great well wishing and sorrow that we all saw him off. Last I had heard he was somewhere in the northern regions. But with the delay in news he could be anywhere really. If our paths should meet again I will be greatly pleased, but if not I know he will find what he seeks and be all the more because of it.” Corin's eyes shown briefly with pride for a man he had trained under. Once again emotion carefully placed to keep a warm and remembered air about them. “Your personal bane? You say that with such a warmth there is obviously more to the three of you then simple training. It is a shame that Fior could not see things as you do. After all the two of you are obviously fond of the other and you are found of your mentor and his, if in another way all together.” A twinge of concern wrapped Corin's words as he steered Sahra through a cluster of dancers. “It must be hard on you to have unrest between the three.”

Leaving the unasked question hang there between them Corin took the opportunity in the crescendoing tempo to twirl Sahra in a series of tight twirls around himself and then back into his arms. “The Bastard sword, you have chosen a fine instrument. Even with some of it's inherit hindrances it is still a fine

work of art in the hands of a master. You really must demonstrate your skills for me one day, I think I would like that. As for my fascination with it. I would say a lot stemmed from watching the soldiers in training on those clear summer days of my youth. The flash of steel in perfect fluidity as they whispered through the air. That same effortlessness lent by it's power would slip through the training forms armored or not. That was a weapon a man could live by.” He smiled back at Sahra, “silly childhood fancies. But they stuck with me and bubbled to the surface when I was presented with the option to choose, in a way it completes me much like a human relationship helps complete others.”

The greatest benefit of how free and open Sahra was with her feelings was the opening she returned to Corin to broach the Aran topic further by tying it to family. A jem he was not about to let slip uncapitalized. “Yes and no really. I have not seen them since I left to travel to Tar Valon in hopes of training with the Guard. But I have been able to have a little correspondence with them since then. It has been very sporadic for the most part but any letter form home is a welcomed one. I must say I do not envy your upbringing. I am not sure I can even imagine not being raised in the family as I was. But perhaps you are right.” Swinging her out as the music came to a halt, Corin dropped in to a perfect gentleman's bow before her and placed a light kiss on the back of her hand. “It has been a honor to have had this dance lady Sahra. We really must do this again some time.” Rising he pulled her gently to his side as he slipped her hand though his arm and lead her off the dance floor. “ Perhaps the missing father figure is what binds you to your bane. That being the case it would certainly lend true to the friction between Fior, a suitor of sorts, and a fatherly type associate who feels the need for protecting.”

He left the thought for her to ponder a moment as they slipped off the dance floor and into the surrounding pockets of conversation. Stopping in an open spot he turned to face her again, a brilliant smile painting his face. “But I suppose I am boring your with my babble. I do hope you take me up on the offer some day, I would enjoy seeing the style in which you make the Bastard sing. Perhaps then we can continue our conversation, but I am sure you are eager to be back in familiar arms so I will keep you no further.” His head dipped slightly as he released her hand.

OOC: Sorry for the delays Arette, it's just been a bad run RL wise. PM me if you are interested in something outside the ball. :)

Grey eyes, soft like ash, regarded him with a sparkle that one might believe belied fascination or perhaps anticipation. Emotions, the way a man could mask and hide his true intentions and desires were both interesting and frustrating all at the same time. Linten did not consider himself a strong judge of absent emotional display. It was said that the Carhien people played at a game that involved the masking and presenting of false emotions. How this could be advantageous was not lost on Linten, however the nuances were. He knew the void, the calmness presented by a flatness to the eyes; voice distant of emotion and almost cold. None of those existed in the other fellow, and at one time he would have accepted that underlying eagerness as factual. But the simple one time meeting of a woman, a witch, on his return voyage had changed all that. Nothing that she showed, that he observed, had been true about her. He had watched her move through the crowd, spoken with her briefly with downcast eyes during the gathering. Perhaps that was why he had not noticed the agelessness of her face until after he had fled; after, in the night, when he had hid from her and her sister. They had scoured the Inn and town site, looking for the man who had wreaked havoc. Havoc, what Linten had done could hardly be construed as havoc. They should have been looking to thank him, to offer him a place of welcome, fine food and wine. He had rid their fair town of the cut purse who had preyed on the weak and the unknowing.

Ful's eyes flick from one of his own to the other drawing attention back. Yes he was definitely comfortable with settling for ash. Formality of tones and words spoke of education or perhaps service in the company of education. The lack of his name spoke of games between nobles. A game Linten was not in the appreciation of. His fingers itched to trace the silver sword pin at his throat when the man mentioned it. So new and shiny still, it was a step closer the to the ability to move as he would need to help righten a great injustice. “In deed I have been at the Farm for a while now, it is a home that accepts me and as you can see,” his arm swept out to indicate his words. “There is less Farm all the time and more of a small town that surrounds the center of madmen's lives. One day their will be a great tower of ebony stones to rival that of Tar Valon's white. But for now we settle with what the mind can picture.” His eyes returned from their wandering of the Farm to regard once more the puzzle he had stumbled on this morning. “You speak well though you do not offer your name. One might almost think you a member of a house or other form of noble. In that a danger lies. All are equal here at the Black Tower, we set our own levels of hierarchy and the nobility level of the blood in a man's veins means no more then the clothes on their back when they arrived. All is given in service to the Dragon and noble blood turns dirt to mud as much as the lowest of street urchant.”

Perhaps he was being a little too cynical, the man my have just plain forgotten to offer his name in good gesture. But Linten's inadequate skills in the games nobles played tended to have him on the side of edginess and defensiveness more often then not. Something he was working on but was still like water slipping through his fingers.

OOC: Sorry for the delay ... should be back to form next week. :(

Sympathy ... the bond mate to weakness had no right in the Tower grounds or a man in the Black cloth of its inhabitant's. Weakness was the first sign of defeat and surrender, both of which were never an option. Especially if the Light blinded witches were involved. Yet it was that simple and so innocent a fleeting feeling that marked the change in the dance and Linten's complete control of the scenario. In his pathetic offering of reprieve and assistance he missed the other man's recollection of his blade. A blade that slashed down with surprising suddenness across his arm. Had it not been for the weave of air that covered the blade it would have left a nasty gash that would most certainly have left him in a dire state and a great disadvantage. Stepping back quickly as his own blade returned to the guard position in front of him Linten shook his arm briefly to work the sting of his opponents contact. His eyes watching the man gain his feet like he was watching a snake rearing back to strike.

Sidestepping, Linten's good arm parried the thrust away from his chest and then returned the blade to the front guard. His right arm, the bruise beginning to set in under the skin, swept up to collect the bottom half of the hilt. “It is nice to meet you Ged Maevere, I am Linten al'Dracian.” his voice was light, the corners of his mouth curling slightly toward a smile. “I look forward to our dance,” once more he side stepped a thrust toward his chest and countered with a low sweep toward the man's knees. The blades bounced off each other and he stepped back. Cross stepping had him circling Ged, his blade once more at the mid guard, tips tapping each other; probing. “What ... no emotion my friend?” His voice twisted the word friend as if it held a bitter taste. The sword in his hands raised to the high guard as he continued to circle. If the man was foolish enough to attempt a straight thrust again at his chest he would find a mark across the back of his shoulders to match the one he had so generously given to Linten's arm.

“Come, I won't hurt you much.” As he circled the man he occasionally kicked dirt toward him as if he was going to move; tested the man's plan to defend this high guard stance. “Lay down your sword and perhaps Arath will let me spare you further humiliation.” Habit had him reaching out to Saidin, his grasp falling short of the sweet pool of vile torment. Wrapped in the moment he had forgotten the shield Arath had placed on them. It would be old fashion pain and exertion for this lesson. His arm throbbed dully trying to pull his attention away from the task. Feeding the pain into the candle's flame that he summoned up in his mind he followed the short exercise into the void. Flat dispassionate eyes regarded Ged, “shall we dance?”