I think in order to make for smoother reading, and non stop (good bits) It should be EB's turn to do her perspective and sneak into Ackley's camp at night. And do stuff.

Yes I agree with EB's suggestion. *Returns back to dying on the ground*

Welcome back!

I can help you out a bit with your requirement, even though I'm not really the Mistress of Novices :P 

You can scroll back through your contents page and find any RP threads you've already posted in the past.

But otherwise, in order to get raised to Accepted you will need to have done:

• Novice Quiz - Ooc. Must be completed before allowed to RP.

• Arrival: Choose one of the following:
  
  * Meet the MoN: - Rp where the Novice first meets the Mistress of Novices. Make it clear whether or not your character has been tested.
  
  OR:
  
  * Journey to the Tower: - RP the Novice's journey to Tar Valon and becoming a Novice as a solo RP or with a full Aes Sedai character.

• One OP Related RP taught by an Accepted or Aes Sedai (Most people do the Introduction to Saidar class found Here)
   
• Choose 2 of the Following:
  
  * Meet the Roommate - RP where the Novice first meets Roommate. (note: There will NOT be an official list of roommates.)
  
  * Freeday - Organize an RP with 2 or more Novices or Accepted, about a specific activity that takes place during your Freeday.
  
  * Homesickness - Adjusting to life in the Tower, your character reflects on missing home. (How does she deal with the loss of her family?)
  
  * Chore RP - A chore given by either an Accepted or Aes Sedai - the chore must be role played.
  
  * Recovery - Your character must deal with a minor/major set-back or loss and must find a way to deal with it. (Will she approach a fellow Novice or Accepted, Mentor or another Aes Sedai?)
  
  * Prankage! - You character has been involved in a prank of some kind! (How will you deal with it. Are you the prank-er or the prank-ee? Will your thread include an interview with the MON for punishment? (suggestion: you can do the Chore thread as a follow up on this.) Must be approved by Staff.
  
  * Create your own Character Centered RP - An rp that centers around your character and not someone else, in which you learn something important about yourself - Must be approved by Staff.
   
• After you've completed the above requirements - And the MoN has given you the green light - you may then write your Three arches (Accepted testings). After which your character will be raised to Accepted.

For further information, and guides on requirements, the WTRP group website has some pretty handy information. Link

Hope that helps.

In the meantime... Jeral lays on the floor dying.

I was thinking since Jeral knocked EB unbalanced. Arinth and arkin can come in and hold her captive. Gives Jeral a much faster solution to reaching a medic, instead of a prolonged stand off.

And also EB, don't worry. your wtiting reads great to me.

A world of agony erupted as Jeral found himself thrown, slumped, useless to the ground. He could taste the bitterness of dirt in his mouth as he coughed his life essense away - drop by drop, second by precious second. His chest felt like it was on fire, and though he was still conscious, a part of his mind knew the dark tunnel would be soon coming for him. He wanted to scream, but found even that was beyond him. The woman stepped over Jeral, ignoring him for the moment as she drew a twin pair of short swords from her back. Her eyes burned with an intensity he had never seen before, and they seemed to freeze like glacial ice as they stared across at the two approaching figures.

Arinth... Arkin... his mind thought, as he watched the other two band members running towards him, with his one remaining eye. The thought felt sluggish; an effect of how far gone he was. She'll kill them too. They won't - stand... a chance. He forced himself to keep his single eye open, and mentally took control of his last reserves of strength. Words no longer formed properly in his mind. Instead, ideas - projections, and a base sense of need, took hold of him. Arinth had his sword out and was coming straight for the standing opponent. Jeral had to buy them one last desperate hope of a chance.

He threw himself at the woman, feeling the last of his air leave his lungs in a scream, as he rammed his body into her back. Darkness consumed his vision before his body hit the forest floor, crumpling in a heap to the ground.

~Jeral Ahan

Private in the Band of the Red Hand, Scouting Division.

​

I already wrote my post on the plane, but couldn't post :(

We don't have to change too much i don't think. But i think this way we can keep the story going. Posting now...

Jeral hasn't noticed the backup arriving, And I let the last post end at the point where he decided to do a drop bear manoeuvre on EB. Gonna let EB decide how that works out. I don't think Jeral would last two seconds in a fair fight against EB's character.

It should be over pretty soon, so I think you should try and rush in as soon as you can.

Here's that attack I promised :P

Jeral might be a complete trigger happy nut-case, but he's not stupid.

Go for it EB.

​Jeral Ahan was not a coward. He might have taken beatings, shrunk down and hid when needed, in order to survive, but he would never allow himself to be a yellow bellied run-away. "Fine." He said, growling just as fiercly as his opponent, as he threw aside his ruined bow. Using the same motion, he combined it with reaching down into his satchel for one of the stored apples. He flicked it, letting the fruit fly underhand, towards the women as he ducked behind the closet tree.

He caught a split second's glimpse of a second knife protruding through the middle of the apple, as it interjected the fruit mid-flight. Jeral found himself panting hard, as he hid behind the stout trunk of the oak. Not good, he thought. Still panting and too scared to dare peak out from around the protective trunk. Terrible, bloody flaming horrible. Those knives were an occupational safety hazzard. No human should have been allowed to throw them with such force and accuracy. He was safe though, for the moment. The split second reaction to throw the fruit as a distraction had bought him the opportunity to escape to cover. Yet Jeral knew that was only a temporary respite, he needed to find a way to fight back.

Loosening his long belt knife - more short sword than knife, really - from its sheath, he drew it then held it in his right hand. "Don't come any closer, you rotten hag!" he yelled to the side, "We've got archers trained on you right this minute." It was a fib of course; scouting parties consists rarely of more than four men at a time. Where are Arkin and Arinth? He didn't know where his two companions had went, and worried they might be in danger of getting their lives shortened.

His opponent didn't reply, but Jeral didn't wait for one. Holding the belt knife in a backhand grip, he rammed it firmly into the side of the trunk and used it as a lever to climb up to a higher branch. Living in the forest had taught him many things; one being how to get up to very high places in a hurry. Careful not to make any noise or noticble movement, he pushed past the lower branches and made his way near the top of the tree. He looked down, and saw the woman still standing where she was, hands still twirling those twin matching pairs of death. Her head kept darting about from one treeline to the next, and it appeared she hadn't noticed Jeral up in the trees yet. Where had Arkin and Arinth gone? he wondered again. He considered, then quickly made up his decision. He had to do something to stop this woman.

He jumped.

~Jeral Ahan

Private in the Band of the Red Hand, Scouting Division.

​

Again, I made a few assumptions, but I don't think going back and forth with simple ask and answer posts is very fun. I left the village name blank cause I'm not sure if you had a specific place you wanted to go.

Tell me if anything needs changed and I'll make the necessary adjustments.

​Ackley felt himself relax a bit when the figure finally spoke. The man had a gruff voice, but the tone was pleasant enough, so Ackley assumed for the moment, that he was friendly. "Well rats in a bag," Ackley mumbled, turning slightly in his saddle to stare off into the distance. "Was kind of hoping you'd know. You have no idea how much my Bannerman will whine at me for, because of this."

The figure began speaking again as he was scanning the terrain, and Ackley let out a small huff as he heard the stranger's next question. "Truth be told," he replied earnestly, still distractedly trying to find some visible landmark nearby. "I really don't know myself. Rumours has it, someone really high up has been looking for bloody Mehrin Deathwatch, of all people. Few of the lads say he's a flaming darkfriend, and that we've been sent to take him in. Whatever the case, we're headed for [ ] to meet up with a few people." He paused, comparing a corner of the map to a distant flat hill top lined by pine trees. "Anyway," he continued. "Where you off to? Look like you're headed somewhere." The man didn't immediately respond so Ackley turned, then frowned as he saw the figure's expression. "Err... you, feeling alright?"

The man blinked once; the hard lines disappearing in an instant from around his face. "No, I'm fine," he replied in a perfectly even tone. Ackley raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced. "You sure? You looked a bit sick there for a second." The man nodded in a reassuring way. "Yes, I'm certain I'll be fine." He paused for a second, as if considering something, before saying. "Would it be too much to ask to travelled with your group for a while? I'm actually going to a place quite close to [ ]."

Ackley shrugged. There was no reason to deny the man his request - he probably just wanted a warm fire tonight, and a chance to get some undisturbed sleep for once. Besides, he thought to himself. Man might know the lands a bit more than I do, could find some use for him. "You're welcome to travel along with us, though I do hope you know how to ride." The man nodded. An extra sword was always useful, and the man didn't look like he would be much of a liability.

"Good, though I don't think we'll be doing any more travelling, at least not for tonight." He turned towards where O'Reilly stood with the rest of the column, a few feet away from Ackley and their newly acquired camp follower. "Bannermans! We're setting up camp around here, find a spot and get the men to put their tents up." he shouted, then turned back towards the figure.

"You'll find a man called sam in second platoon. He'll give you the horse, and perhaps show you around the camp if you ask nicely." he said as he climbed down from the top of Sunflower and began rummaging through his saddlebags for his blanket and bedroll. After a few seconds undoing the buckles, he tucked the rolls underneath his left armpit then grabbed the reigns in his other free hand.

"I'll be off to supervise and lead and whatnot. Remember to stay out of trouble. Avoid topics like darkfriends, or Aes Sedai." he warned before heading off towards the rest of the camp. "They're pretty touchy subjects for some reason, even with this group."

​~Ackley Carnel

Hundredman in the Army of the Light

The boy shifted nervously about in his seat as Ackley lowered his tankard. There was a question painted in the youth's eyes, and Ackley knew he had to give an explaination soon. "Boy. Tell me what you think, of darkfriends." He watched the shock replace the confusion, and a definite tension rrun across the entire length of the Child's bofy. Ackley wasn't listening to the youth's reply, he nodded at the correct reaction to the given statement. He could probably trust this one, for now...

"That one over there - the one with the nice shirt and platter of fish," he gestured subtly to the figure from before. "Well, he's one of them." He watched as the youth wipe his head about, and stare directly at the man he had indicated. Ackley sent the boy a sharp reality check by kicking him in the chin. Kyle jumped in the air a bit, shocked at the sudden pain on his right foot, then seemed to remember himself.

"First rule of not being noticed." Ackley said coldly. "Stop being noticable." He took another pull on his ale, then set the empty tankard down. This was his third cup tonight, and Ackley had hoped the others might be able to dismiss him as too drunk to be doing any spying. The boy evidently tried to assume an indifferent posture, but it was a far stretch from being perfect.

"Well, can't we go catch him then? I mean, if you already know..."

"I'm not here because of him," Ackley explained further, continuing on where the boy had trailed off. "You don't really need to know any more apart from the fact that, I'm here for bigger fish. Wait, I think he's here. Act normal." The two of them assumed casual poses once more, as Kyle took a pull on his own ale, then grimaced. Would have to work on that in the future, if he's ever going to get anywhere.

At that moment the front door to the Inn's common room opened, and in stepped a man, who also wore a white tabbard. He made his way further inside, and eyed Ackley for a few moments as he crossed their table. The man wore the insignia of the lightning bolt beside the usual sunburst, which marked him out as another Hundredman, like Ackley. He was tall - nearly a foot taller than the standard average, and had a pointy, yet comely face, along with wavy blond hair. Ackley couldn't quite put a name to him, though the mere presence of the figure was enough assurance to know, his efforts tonight hadn't come to waste.

The man took a chair across from the already seated figure, Ackley had spotted earlier, and the two shook hands. The Hundredman called over the bar tender, and from the distance Ackley could hear him order a tankard of ale and some food be brought up. Covering up why you're really there, Ackley thought, taking another sip at his own mug before realising it was empty. He set the cup down and turned his head sideways to regard his recruit. There was no way to overhear the conversation the two darkfriends were having, which was a shame, but not a huge loss, really. First though, he had set a own decoy in motion somehow.

"I need you to do something for me," Ackely said in hushed tones, leaning in closer and whispering so the recruit would do the same. He didn't need to try very hard to act shady, which was the entire point of this exercise. They needed to be seen doing this. "I'm going to mumble something in your ear, and then hand you a bag of coins. When I do this, just nod and pocket the thing. Then, once I give the word, get outside and wait for me there. Try and stay out of sight as much as possible."

He reached inside his pocket and fished out the money pouch there, which had been emptied gradually throughout the night, to pay for his ale. He gestured for the boy to lean in closer and then - as he said he would - mumbled a string of random words into the boy's ear, making it look like some kind of instructions Kyle nodded, then reached out and took the money pouch from Ackley's hand. The Hundredman settled back in his chair and gave the youth a cheerful grin, as he watched the Recruit saunter off out into the night.

Hopefully, whoever was watching him, would assume Ackley had just bribed his way into something, and he had used the Recruit as a middleman. It was a shaky cover-story, but fingers crossed, it would just be enough to avoid suspicion. It would do, for now. The two men had finished both their meals, and it looked like as if one of them was about to leave. Ackley waited, fingering the rim of his empty tankard as he quietly loosened his sword buckle.

~Ackley Carnel
Hundredman in the Army of the Light

There we go. Hope that works for you. Remember to keep Jeral alive. As much as I want to see him get the shit beaten out of him, I would like to keep writing about him.

The rain had ceased falling, and the air smelled of freshly ground pine needles. Jeral whistled softly to himself as he plodded through the tracks of the now familiar forest, Arkin and Arinth conversing quietly with one another a few paces back behind him. Funnily enough, though he would've never admitted it a year before, Jeral was beginning to feel like the Citidal was becoming his home, and the people: his family. It was a very odd feeling to be having a family again. Years on the run and spent in exile to one country after the next, had engrained certain habits into him, and it would take some time to adjust to the changes. Of course, Jeral didn't mind the changes, not at all. He had almost completely forgotten what it felt like to sleep soundfully, with both his eyes closed at night.

He took a bite at the apple he carried in his right hand, and smiled as he chomped happily away at the juicy fruit. Food was another great addition to his new life. Before, he had to either steal it or hunt game in the forest in order to survive. He felt for the satchel he wore on the left side of his belt buckle, and was satisified to feel the weight of half a dozen more apples in the small container.

Both of Jeral's ears pricked up suddenly as he heard an un-humanlike roar come directly in front of him. Raising his gaze further forward, he nearly jumped out of his skin in fright as he focussed on the form of a figure holding twin daggers, only a few paces away.

Instinct took hold in a flash, as he dove and rolled to the left of the footpath. Some habits hadn't died with his new found comforts, and he was glad of that. As he rolled, he reached behind his back and unhooked the recurve bow from around his shoulders. He quickly and smoothly regained his feet, other hand pulling out a goose feathered shaft from the quiver and nocking it to the string. He steadied himself, and finished the roll in a controlled crouch, bow raised and arrow already at full drawn.

"Drop your weapons!" he shouted, "State your name and inten-" he found the words die in his mouth as they fell fully open, gawking at the sight in front of him.

~Jeral Ahan

Private in the Band of the Red Hand, Scouting Division.

​

Alrighty. I'll go ahead and charge Jeral in. just make sure you come in time to save his ass.

Sherper - Ackley Carnel - Hundredman.

I think a more compact thread for information on the Children would be nice. Less cluster of stickies, and more noob friendly.

I can write up something tomorrow morning. or do you want to start, BB?

It is almost a certainty Jeral will be injured. I mean... a WS 6 (or was it 7) against a WS20+ usually doesn't end well. Anything short of killing him will be fine for me, really.

Awwww, thanks EB!

I love reading you and Quibb's writing too.

Can't wait to see what comes next.

It was only after two hours, and several smashed pieces of furniture later, that Ellisha decided to call it quits. The day had been a constant string of humiliation, shame, and general failures. She released Saidar - letting the source flow away from her, and felt Aril do the same. "We'll need to get you more practise." The shorter woman said, as she tidied her small pile of notes from the table. "I don't think you're quite ready for the testing yet."

"I know." Ellisha felt herself growl in response. She clentched her teeth, and stared at the wall directly in front of her.

​

It wasn't like she couldn't do the weaves. She had practised each and every single one individually, and rarely made a mistake. It was only when Aril began practising with her in earnest that she find her self control slip away from her. "We'll do it again. Just not today." Aril nodded. "Not today sounds fine for me, I think I'm just going to go over to my room and sleep. I'm exhausted."

Ellisha turned around and saw that there were bags under Aril's eyes. The woman must have pushed herself helping Ellisha concnetrate on her weaves, and she didn't even notice. "Thanks," she found herself say simply, and gave her friend a wan smile. It was enough. Aril knew what Ellisha had meant, no matter the simplicity. The two of them had been friends long enough to communicate feelings without explicit attentions to detail. Aril returned with a small smile of her own, though it only highlighted how tired she really looked. The day had taken much out of both of them, and as the adrenaline slowly filtered out of her system, Ellisha could begin to feel the extenet of her own exhaustions.

"I think bed rest sounds fantastic at the moment." she continued, feeling a yawn creep up on her. "Fantastic indeed." Aril agreed. "I'll be back tomorrow to continue this, so don't get too comfortable."

"looking forward to it." Ellisha lied, though she heard Aril chuckle and thought she saw the woman shake her head as the door closed behind her. Ellisha didn't bother chasing for an answer to her problems, or getting changed. As soon as the door to the room closed, she was already fast asleep on her bed.

~Ellisha Falwein

Accepted of the White Tower.

​

Most Excellent. Be waiting eagerly to see where this goes.

You can say you packed it away somewhere. JUST SO PEOPLE DON'T INSTA SPOT YOU. Or something.... Will that work? And is my writing style the kind of thing you need? I'm not really sure, actually.

Posted Ackley's perspective. I went ahead and assumed some stuff, including Mehrin's description and attire.

I hope the post was alright. I had to do it in kind of a rush, so it might read a bit like a mad man's ramblings.

Sunlight laced over the summer terrain - the gentle hills, the clear pastures and the hundred travel weary mounted crossbowmen. "Dark one's own grandmother, O'Reilly! Can't you keep your opinions to yourself for once?" A man shouted from somewhere near the back of the organised column. A second man sat beside him, on a different horse. The cloaks and insignia of the two, marked them out as officers. "I would, if you stop getting us lost all the time." The second man replied, giving his superior a sideways scowl.

"Well it wasn't my bloody fault!" Ackley retorted immediately, though in truth, it kind of was. They had been travelling for nearly twelve days now, and part of that was because of Ackley's poor map reading skills. Geography was one thing Ackley had mistakingly flunked, back when he was still an apprentice scholar. "Alright, Mr know it all. Tell us where the hell we are then." He threw the rolled up map across the saddle at O'Reilly. The man caught it, then gave him a narrowed look. Ackley rolled his eyes skyward. Of course, it was his job to be navigator; the duties of a Hundredman dictated it. He had also almost forgotten O'Reilly couldn't read.

Sighing deeply - and very loudly - Ackley nudged the sides of his brown mare; sunflower, and trotted up beside the advancing column. A few of his men acknowledged him as he passed, though most just had the trance-like, bored expression soldiers wore to make the time pass quicker. Ackley Carnel wasn't like most other Hundredman within the Children of the Light. He liked to make sure he got to know his men, and of course, the other way around too. His men didn't really treat him like any other officer. They knew he didn't care much about status, rank or proper protocal, so they usually didn't bother saluting him. However, they still listened and obeyed his orders, not because of the stripes on his shoulder pads, but for other reasons. They trusted him, and he - them. In Ackley's books, that was all that really mattered.

They were on a specially assigned mission. The haste and urgency of which was evident in the order form Ackley had received, upon being woken up at 2am in the morning. His company of crossbows was to make all speed to a village - whose name Ackley keeps forgetting - and to rendezvous with a member of the Eyes and Ears there. What was stranger still however, was the Questioner that had been ordered to accompany them. "Mr Flatface" as O'Reily liked to call him, had tailed their group ever since they left Amador. The man's dissaproval of Ackley's command was evident in the dark looks he keeps giving the unorthodox Hundredman. Ackley didn't really care much about the man. So long as he stayed out of Ackley's way, the two of them would get along just fine.

He noticed something else as he passed the middle of the company's centre. A man, travelling on foot, was walking to the side of the road. The figure turned and regarded Ackley's men as the front of his column passed him by. Finally, Ackley thought, reigning his horse in slightly so he could stop beside the man. Someone I can ask directions to. Maybe he knows where the next village is.

"Hello Traveller!" Ackley halted his horse a little ways away. He gave the figure a good natured smile, as it always did a man well to be polite, when possible. "We.. err... are kind of lost. Do you mind pointing us in the direction of the nearest village?" He waited for the man's response, sitting placidly on his horse. He knew other members of the order sometimes liked to get their way by intimidating others. Especially if they were on a horse, and thus having the height advantage. That wasn't exactly Ackley's style.

He took the opporunity to observe the man closer, and noticed for the first time, that he was wearing a sword. It wasn't uncommon for travellers to be going around armed these days, though it was strange how the man is travelling by himself. The gruff expression and the way the man held himself, might explain why though. He wore plain ordinary clothing - white woolen shirt with brown trousers and a matching cloak, yet the way he stood, subtly outlined - to those who knew where to look - his profficency with the sword he wore. The man stared up at Ackley, the hard lines on his face making the usually steadfast Hundredman feel a bit uneasy as he matched those unyielding eyes.

~Ackley Carnel

Hundredman in the Army of the Light

(OCC: Doing this on a tablet. The italics don't show up, I think. I use them to outline the thought sections, so just pretend they're there if you can. Also, I should add Ackley doesn't know he's out to hunt Mehrin yet. In fact, I think I'll make it he doesn't recognise that Mehrin is Mehrin, so long as Quibbs doesn't give it away. Gives him a chance to tag along with the Children.)