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DRAGONMOUNT

A WHEEL OF TIME COMMUNITY

Kura

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Everything posted by Kura

  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
  16. Not to mention with names being stricken from the family tree its not like there are a long line of geneologies to keep track of here. A slightly higher percentage of damaane coming out of one part of the social structure would be significant if taken into account over generations, but as it isn't talked about and doesn't seem to be recorded, the overall effect would be reduced significantly.
  17. Are you KuraFire? No, I'm just a returning nerd who hasn't posted since before sanderson took over. As for moradin's body being special, as far as I'm aware its just an attractive body with the right genome for channeling. Avi's kids being able to channel from so early... No idea why besides their parents both being channellera probably got them tested super early.
  18. Arcon Dadread, noble born of Carhien and a fully raised dreadlord, stood with his back against a common tavern not far from Tar Valon, the seat of the Aes Sedai and much of his people's troubles. He'd been standing there for quite sometime, his hand resting leisurely on the hilt of the long sword at his hip. It was a noble's weapon, of that there was little doubt. A simple crossguard, little more than a simple bar, but within its center sat an Onyx stone the size of a dock worker's thumb. The grip itself of black leather, contoured to fit his hand, and a spider resting at the top, hidden benea
  19. Its been a while since I've engaged in these arguments, but I think the body swap is quite plausible. For one, as has been stated about three bajillion times, the OP has shown the ability to play with people's souls through the creation of Ter'Angreal (The dream rings, the hedgehog, etc.). Second we know that channeling is an ability of the soul, as evidenced by the Forsaken coming back, and in one case a female wielding Saidin when the DO got lazy and couldn't find a dude to put him back in. There is even multiple instances of multiple souls housed in one body, soul merging, and soul ejecting
  20. Sereth stood before the Inn, motionless and his eyes closed. His freshly cleaned and pressed coat lying still in the absence of a breeze. The stitching up the side seemed to weigh a thousand stone. I wonder if this will be the last day I wear this coat? He had been newly raised to his rank when he set out to find his old mentor, and with the time he’d spent gone he wouldn’t be surprised if the Storm Leader decided against him keeping his advanced rank. You had a good reason, and then another. He will understand. He opened his eyes, watching the men move around him, most with a look of confusio
  21. OOC: Sorry for the wait, it has been busy IRL. Arcon nodded in her response to his veiled threat. Well, she has backbone. I will give her that. Good. Maybe she will be able to stare down the Court of Carhien… The gesture itself was as close to an apology that nearly anyone alive would ever receive from the man. He wasn’t one to admit that he had done wrong, well, at least not sincerely. Arcon hoped the deal wasn’t ruined due to him pointing out his advantages in outright confrontation, and his willingness to sell them to the highest bidder. Stil, maybe if she walks, I will get someone with
  22. Arcon noted every facial expression, and inwardly felt a mix of both pleasure and disgust. She was no fool, that much was obvious. It was also the source of both of his emotions. Having such an individual as an ally gave him more options, and a far more reliable lever, should a fulcrum present itself. Unfortunately, he couldn't waltz in and get what he wanted with a few non-committal responses. Use what you have Arcon, to get what you need. His father's words, his impending return brought many such phrases to his mind. Are you growing nostalgic? He wondered to himself. He quickly banished the
  23. Sereth stepped through the familiar slash, his silk coat fluttering meekly from the breeze. When he released the weave it settled. He shook his head; it was an odd night for the weather to be so still. It seemed the world should be in tempest. His boots crunched through the snow as he approached his home, pushing open the door and taking a moment to take it all in. It has been a long time… He felt an odd duality. So much had changed, the summer heat finally breaking, his promotion to Attack Leader, and… other things. Yet still, his home remained almost exactly as he had left it, a state of fa
  24. Arcon’s heart leapt into his throat as the serving lady returned, filling his ale back to brimming. Though he felt like seizing Saidin and burning the place down, he graciously thanked her, and turned his eyes to the woman who sat across him. He took a moment to appreciate her dress and mannerisms, noting that she seemed to dress far above him. His mind cycled through possibilities. Would that quality have been less noticeable in this crowd? He scanned the room and found no other gem stone coated cloaks. No, then I suppose there are only two options. She either blundered into choosing a notewo
  25. Arcon’s finely manicured hands pressed firmly upon the polished wooden door to the tavern. He tried to enter with little fanfare, and thought he chose the location fairly well for such a reaction. His silks were hidden under a woolen cloak, and the silk patch replaced with one of far lesser quality. Though of course, his hood was up. The tavern was far from the seediest in town, though honestly in Tar Valon even that wasn’t much to sniff at. It was however, that wonderful middle ground where a man and a woman could be expected to meet. He knew his slender build, and if anyone looked too closel
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