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About Kura

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    CotS ADL
  • Birthday 06/13/1991
  1. The dreadlord again gave his nod of approval to her plans, going through the motions and inacting the masque he'd spent his life perfecting. Flawlessly he switched roles to the arrogant young nobleman for show at their farewell breakfest, treating the serving staff with the disregard typical of his class. He mounted his horse, motioning for her to lead the way out of town. Again he slipped back into the collected dreadlord, unfolding his shoulders and sitting high in the saddle, but still keeping the loose hands on the reigns of an experienced rider. His inner emotions however, didn't reflect
  2. Arcon's only reply to her return speach was a nod, his mask slipping back into place. As she left, he watched her go with a sigh. Well, I suppose it is good a sudden outburst doesn't rattle her... The thought drifted idly, and even in his head he felt how hollow it was. He knew he had damaged their budding relationship, but he was much more pensive about how idly she took the meaning of his words and actions. A shake of his head, a sign of his inner thoughts he'd never give if there was actually someone to observe them. She respects the mask, I will have to employ it to get my point accross.
  3. Sereth’s reflexes were on point, instantly slicing the fire weaves as the rolled from the man. His shield however, was a bit lagging, but he saw little harm in that given the man had knocked himself unconscious. Sereth held the source, staring down at his new soldier, trying to decide how he felt. Had he done good for the man? It seemed he had finally found a backbone, at the very least. Though he wondered at the man’s mantra… It unsettled the Attack Leader. A horrible, nigh unforgiveable thought occurred to him. I could gentle him here and now… How much pain would I be saving him and others
  4. Sereth wore his surprise openly. The Red Ajah came to the Black Tower to bond his brethren? The news was… unsettling. Oh, that wasn’t to say that he wasn’t overjoyed at the prospect of traveling to Tar Valon, speaking to the sisters there, and pawing through the library. He might never leave given that opportunity. It was nearly everything he had ever dreamed of. He did however have reservations… It was hard for a man in his position to trust the Red Ajah. They were afterall dedicated to hunting down his kind. Still, if Arath trusted them… The Attack Leader took a sip of his tea to calm h
  5. Arcon played his part of the chastised nobleman. His lip pulled into a sneer, his eyes daring the innkeeper to say one word about what he had just witnessed. This time however, only the pertinence was faked. He had come to his companion with respect and concern for both of their lives and possessions, and had been talked down to like a child. His ire was up, and his pride was wounded. Not a phenomenal way to spend their first night together. Wisely, the innkeeper kept his mouth shut, and showed them to their shared room. Even as the door was shut behind them, Arcon wove a ward of silence a
  6. Sereth watched as his student broke down in front of him. The life he had unwittingly walked into overwhelming his sensibilities, his gentle life having left him unprepared for the harsh realities of the changing world. Of his own abilities. When the man began to cry, Sereth felt a pang of regret. What have I done to this poor man? The attack leader took a deep steadying breath. It is too late for that Sereth. There is no turning back, only moving forward. Maybe… Maybe it is time for a demonstration. His resolve hardened, and for the first time an edge of iron entered the Asha’man’s voice.
  7. Arcon burst through the doors of his old rooms in the fortress, his mind in a flurry. So much to do, so much time wasted in between the two… He rummaged through his things, searching for a specific silk outfit. Dress the part, afterall. How many contacts have I lost up here? I know I will always have Shadar, but who may have forgotten me? What upstarts don’t know who I am? He sighed, finally taking a moment to organize his thoughts. It had been a very long time since he had returned to the Fortress. --- “Greetings father, I hope you’ve been well?” The elder man turned to face his son,
  8. ((Yeah, I have no valid excuse as to why this sat here for a month beyond that I couldn't think of what to put down. Apologies Storm Leader.)) Sereth let a grin slip onto his features. Perhaps he had over thought the situation, and given far to much emphasis on his time away. It had seemed much longer however, more like years than weeks. Still, he did feel bad for his absence so soon after both Shienar and the formation of the council. "I'm glad to see everything has held itself together so well in my absence, though the men do seem a bit undereducated. I take it you've been neglecting his
  9. The man’s apprehension was a palpable thing, seething and writhing, wrapping around his throat like a constrictor. Sereth very nearly sighed, but held it back. It wasn’t that he was already exasperated with the man; it was more that he was disappointed in himself. Though the man had sought him out, and it was his duty as an Asha’mon to bring forth all men who could channel, he hated the necessity of it. He hated what he had done to the Andorian youth. He hoped it was a sign of his own sanity that he still felt grief for what it was that he did, what he would continue to do. He was what the wor
  10. Arcon took her answer and spun it out in his mind. Her freely admitting that she had very little in the way of contacts was quite a bit more revealing than what he'd said, though it took far fewer words. Of course there was always the chance that she was under emphasizing her position, but the Dreadlord very much doubted that to be the truth. Good. She is competent, and I appear to be the first one to have my fangs into her... It was true he was growing fond of the woman, but he was what he was, after all. He doubted that one who swore to the Great Lord would hold it against him, let alone an
  11. Sereth had always enjoyed talking. So many assumed that the one speaking was simply giving information away, while the listener hoarded and revealed nothing. Though the Attack Leader would never be so bold as to call so large a group foolish, he would say it was a bit ignorant. As the details of life on the farm moved towards that of the taint, he could see the tension filling the man. He was close to turning tail and running back to the sheltered world of whtiebridge, as far from the Black Tower as he could manage. I'm sorry son, but it is far to late for that. Sereth turned to face the man b
  12. Arcon was glad that his companion neglected to open up into her own background so easily. Having someone who could keep her control, even when baited with that most succulent trap of reciprocity, was something he could appreciate. Though he did find himself curious about her past, and truly Aes Sedai histories were a chore to delve into, this said volumes more than her favorite doll growing up ever could. As she spoke in turn he found his ire rising, though masked it well. She almost spoke as if she wished him caught and gentled in truth. Andorian... He cut off the thought, and nearly laughed
  13. Sereth gave the nervous boy a calming smile. “Didn’t bring anything? You brought yourself, and if you are what you hope to be, well… “ Sereth chuckled and smoothed back his brown hair, “Well, that should more than suffice.” Sereth poured his own cup of tea after making sure the boy had his own. He sipped it without any further additives, always preferring the natural flavors of the herbs to the prostrating sweetness of honey. When corned with that fact he’d once laughed and responded, “The world is sweet enough without your honey.” An odd sentiment from one who ran so willingly to battle, to t
  14. Arcon actually let a smile slip onto his gaunt features at the Aes Sedai’s approach. He stepped away from the building, and walked forward to meet her. “You look beautiful, Seharia Sedai. And yes, I would rather enjoy setting out as soon as you feel up to it.” His voice had regained its court composure, each syllable annunciated perfectly. She had chosen to be polite with him. He could return that favor, manners were second only to the Great Game itself for a Carhien child. As she continued, Arcon gave her a half bow, and gestured to a nearby stable boy. He brought out a massive black stallion
  15. Sereth sat out in the middle of a field, in a stonework chair, at a stonework table. The designs were simple, flat top, single leg in the middle for the table, made of the granite of the deep earth. The chair was made from the same material and of a similar design. On the table sat a simple tea pot and earthen ware cups. Sereth tied off a weave heating the kettle and released Saidin. He had a broad smile on his face, and admired his work for a moment. While it was true that he wouldn’t win any awards for craftsmanship, building something simple and sturdy was one of his favorite applications o
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