"I'm from Bandar Eban, in Arad Doman."  Rochel flopped down onto her bed and stared at the cieling.  "My mother always wanted to be Aes Sedai but failed the testing.  So she insisted that I be tested too when we passed through here with our trade caravan.  She was thrilled."  She tried hard not to grimace.  "So here I am, more often than not elbows deep in a bucket or a pot, wondering when I'll learn anything useful."

That grated on her nerves more than anything else.  The endless chores, and the extremely limited amount of useful learning they recieved.  You could only learn so many calming exercises before you felt like pulling your hair out and strangling the teacher with it.  Rochel couldn't stand any of it.  What good was it to spend so much time learning impractical things?  Why bother teaching something if it didn't have a useful purpose?  Nine times out of ten, the things she was expected to learn seemed to fall into the 'useless' category.

Lifting her head slightly to look at Evanen, Rochel asked, "So what do you think about the Aes Sedai?  Do you like them, hate them ...?" It would be a good idea to get an idea of the other girl's point of view before sharing too much more with her.  It wouldn't do to bad mouth an Aes Sedai in front of her if she would run off to the Mistress of Novices to tattle .

Alright, I'm back.  And it looks like the place is more or less intact.

Good job all. ;D

So what did I miss?

Aloha!  Good to see my kind and peaceful bonded back again :)

I'm headed out of town again for a week or so (family reunion, 4th of July).  Will be gone from the 2nd until the 8th.  Not sure if I'll have any internet access at all, and even if I do it will be sporadic.  Other stuff to do and all.

So hopefully I'll be able to poke my nose in over the week and get the necessary stuff done.  Maybe even squeak an RP in.

But don't count on it.

If something happens and the place starts burning down, poke Covai.  If he's not around to be poked, direct thy poking at Tai'Dashan.  If HE isn't around ... you have my permission to run around screaming in panic.

Rochel felt as though she had been slammed by the door again.  A roommate?  There were hundreds of unused apartments in the novice quarters, and Larindrha had stuck her with a roommate?  What was this about?

"Did you do something wrong?"

Rochel was wondering that very thing.  What had she done to deserve this?  Suddenly she realized that Evanen had been referring to the floor scrubbing.  She bit off a laugh.  "I've done any number of things wrong since I've been here, but no.  This ... foolishness ... with the floors is something required of all novices.  It builds character, or some such nonsense.  It keeps us busy more like.  A novice who has a moment to sit and catch her breathe obviously doesn't have enough to do."

She wondered for a moment if she had just shoved her own foot in her mouth somehow, as Evanen turned an amazing shade of embarassed pink and turned away to comb her hair.  "I guess I should probably do my part then to help scrub the floors. I really am not doing so well on first impressions am I...I truly am sorry."

Rochel paused, considering for a moment.  It would be terribly easy to dump the rest of that particular duty on Evanen, even though there was only a small amount left to do.  But doing something like that inevitably came back to haunt you.  "No," she finally, grudgingly, said.  "You're first day here is supposed to be ... well, you'll have plenty of chores to do tomorrow.  You'll probably get stuck scrubbing this floor tomorrow, or scrubbing pots in the kitchens.  Or you could be sent doing the light knows what for any random Aes Sedai you see."

Stalking back over to her cursed bucket, Rochel scooped up the brush and tackled the last bit of the floor, making sure to lean against the door this time.  "Besides, I'm almost done anyway."

There was silence for the next couple of minutes while Rochel furiously scrubbed away at the already spotless floor.  "Good enough," she announced quickly, tossing the brush back into the bucket with a soft splash.  "Now then, Evanen was it?  Where are you from?"  She supposed if she was going to be stuck with this girl she had better at least try to get along with her.  Even if it did involve small talk.

Rochel scrubbed furiously at the floors in her room, imagining with each viscious rub of the brush a face underneath it of someone who irritated her.  The list was getting to be quite long really.  The novices who snubbed hers simply for being Domani, the nobles who down played her for only being a merchants daughter, the accepted who insisted on bossing her around as though they were so much better than her, the Mistress of Novices and her bloody slipper, the Aes Sedai and all their bloody flaming rules ... the list was endless.  It helped pass the time though as she scrubbed.

It was the rules that got her the most.  The rules that didn't make any sense.  Like cleaning her room so often.  She barely had time to sleep here, let alone do anything else, and yet she was forced to clean it as though a flock of sheep had recently passed through.  She was convinced that she would scrub clear through the floor boards before she ever made it out of here.  And they'd probably make me replace the floors myself if I did, she thought miserably.  She began scrubbing the last section of the floor, behind her door.  At least it's better than being in the kitchen scrubbing the burnt pots.  Though I'll probably have to do th-

Without warning the door banged open, slamming into Rochel's back and knocking her forward.  With an indignant sqwauk she tried to catch herself and with a loud splash, her hand landed in the bucket.  It did little to lessen the impact of her head against the wall.  Muttering under her breathe, and trying very hard to control her lanuage in case it was an Aes Sedai who had intruded upon her, Rochel shakliy crawled out from behind the door.

"Oh I am so sorry! Here, let me help you up. I am such a clumsy fool!"

Only to eager to agree, Rochel allowed the other girl to help her up.  She carefully pressed a hand against the top of her head, wincing at the slight pain.  She hoped it wouldn't give her a headache later.  She had another channeling class, and she really didn't want to miss another one.  Some of the sisters didn't bother with sending her to Larindrha Sedai for the slipper.

Abruptly she realized that the other girl had stuck her hand out.  "My name is Evanen, Evanen Phaedrein."

"Rochel Dion," she muttered, quickly gripping Evanen's hand while rubbing her head with the other.  "Did you have a message or ...?"

OOC:  You use different colors for the OP than we do at the BT ... :P

Rochel raced down the halls of the White Tower, dodging servants and other novices and bobbing quick curtsies on the run to anyone who deserved it.  She knew she wasn't going to make it.  She could almost hear a clock ticking down the final seconds until she was late for class.  She rounded the final corner, excuses ready to fly from her lips, and almost ran headlong into one of the other novices from the class, waiting outside the closed room.  With a sigh of relief she leaned against the wall to catch her breathe.

A few minutes later, Claire seemed to wander along by happenstance and addressed them.  "Good morning, class. I hope you are ready for a more strenuous lesson today. First I would like you to place your essay from yesterday and the description of your new relaxation exercise on my desk.”

With a grimace at the slightly crumpled papers in her hand, Rochel walked forward and put her essay on the pile.  She had been up a great deal of time over the last day researching for it.  At first she had not cared much for the assignment, until she had found a name among the lists of training casualties that intrigued her.  Information on the accepted she had chosen was hard to find, but she had written almost all she could find.

Accepted Seleena Dion was entered into the novice books some hundred and fifty years ago.  A bright girl with an appetite for knowledge, she seemed to have a knack for understanding ancient texts and translations, and naturally aspired to the Brown Ajah.  One of her favorite studies included ter'angreal, which she spent a rather large amount of time investigating, often against the advice of the sisters.

While very careful with her own studies, Seleena's downfall came by the hands of another accepted who was less capable when it came to ter'angreal.  This accepted, by the name of Daera Fairns, carelessly channeled spirit into a ter'angreal of unknown purpose.  Reportedly, there was a large flash of light, and moments later the pair were found unconscious on the floor.  Though Daera herself was spared any ill consequences (to the contrary, for a time she seemed to have rather excessive amounts of energy), Seleena's ability was instantly seared out, simply for being too close to the incident.

As per custom, Seleena was put out of the tower with enough coin to last her for a year, and was last known to be returning to her native Arad Doman.

Rochel remembered listening to her father talk of his own childhood.  His favorite relative when he was young had been his great-grandmother, Seleena.  Rochel wondered if this could have been the same woman.  It had certainly intrigued her.  Further pursuit on the matter had actually turned up Seleena's journal, and the second part of her assignment.

Meditation exercise: Wind in the Willows

This exercise requires the person to imagine themself as a tall, graceful willow tree.  Once the willow tree is firmly established in the mind, imagine a wind begin to pick up.  The branches of the willow slowly ripple in the wind, riding the breeze and weathering the storms that may come.  No matter how the wind howls, the willow conquers it by letting itself bend rather than rigidly fight.  A willow may seem weak and frail, but it is the seeming frailty that enables it to withstand the ferocious winds, where a proud, unwavering oak tree may fall. 

A favorite of Seleena's, according to the journal she had found it in, it had seemed an appropriate one to include.  It actually worked rather well too.  She had tried it last night when her room mates snoring had kept her awake.

“Now that that’s done, I feel that we need a little fresh air. I’m taking you out to the gardens today.  I think if you are put in a quiet and serene atmosphere, then concentrating on this particular lesson will be much easier for you.”

When they had reached the garden and taken their seats, Rochel listened carefully to Claire's instructions.  Pushing and Pulling ... the idea itself made sense, but Rochel wasn't sure her control was good enough for it to work.  She had a hard enough time holding on to Saidar at all, let alone while trying to maintain a weaker hold.

Closing her eyes, Rochel let the willow form in her mind, the wind moving briskly through the branches, but the tree itself moving calmly.  Then she added the rose bud to the image, sheltered from the wind by the tree.  Slowly, frustratingly slow, the rose opened up to the light of Saidar.  Once she managed to hold onto the source, the tried to imagine the cloud Claire spoke of, drifting between her flower and the light.  Immediately the flower began to close back up, and Rochel lost Saidar.  Grimacing to herself, she tried again.  And again.  And again.

Finally, she managed to do it.  As the cloud drifted in front of the light, the rosebud began to close up again, but this time it held open some.  It was hard to try to hold so little when she had to struggle to hold anything at all.  Not that she was really holding a lot to begin with, but it was difficult nonetheless.  It was a relief when Claire told them to take a break.

“In order to weave you must know what the elements are. The five elements are Air, Water, Fire, Earth, and Spirit. I’m going to show you which threads are which.”  Rochel concentrated hard in order to see the weave that Claire laid out in front of them.  “Now can you tell me which thread is which?”

Rochel thought for a moment.  How was she supposed to know?  Well ... Red had to be fire.  It only made sense.  Brown ... didn't fit anything else but earth.  But green only seemed to fit earth as well.  Blue ... that could be air or water.  White could be air or spirit.  Since blue probably wasn't spirit, that only left white.  Which made air blue and ... water green?  That didn't seem right.

One of the other novices spoke up and listed everything off to Claire, who looked delighted.  “Good, I see you have been studying. Now, I want each of you to come up and work with me to identify the different threads. You will have problems doing this at first, but if you work hard it will get easier.”

Rochel watched carefully as the first girls had their turns with Claire.  There really wasn't much to observe, so she didn't learn anything by watching.  She simply enjoyed what seemed like her first moments outside in a long time.  Before she knew it, Claire was motioning for her to come forward.

Surpressing a sigh, Rochel trudged up to the bench where the Brown sister was sitting and when she was given the confirming nod, the embraced Saidar.  On the second attempt.  Firmly holding on to the source, Rochel explored it for the first time.  It was surprising.  It was like looking into the sun and finding a five color rainbow.  She ... reached ... there was no other word for it, and began to pull at one of the threads making up the light.  The white one.  It came away easily enough and floated there in front of her.  Rochel cocked her head and looked at it for a moment.  "White.  That makes it Spirit?" 

When Claire nodded, she released the thread and pulled at another one.  Red this time.  It wasn't nearly as easy as the white one.  It didn't seem to want to move.  Unconsciously, Rochel made a pinching motion with her fingers and tugged harder.  Finally it fell away from the others and dangled in the air in front of her.  She experimentally waved it around a little, mimicking the movement with her pinched fingers.  "Fire."

Air and Water quickly followed, both easier than Fire had been.  Last came Earth.  Pinching at the brown thread, Rochel tugged at it like she had with fire.  Nothing happened.  Pinching her fingers tighter, she pulled again, still with no result.  A little embarassed, her fist balled up and she gave one last mighty pull.  The thin brown thread wavered in her grip, resisting her every attempt to move it.  Letting the miserable element go, Rochel looked at Claire.  "I suppose that was Earth then?  It was like it didn't want to be moved."

Novice Quiz

Meet the MoN

Update on Saidar class

My problem is that any time I think of something good, I want my BTer to make it instead. :(

Covai certainly isn't wasting any time with this, Arath thought as the small group made their way to the assembly grounds.  Only a short time had passed since he had woken from his day long nap, and already he was back to kicking the anthill.  At least things were happening, unlike what had happened, or not happened rather, under Brent.  Arath wondered how long it would take to undo the damage the former M'Hael had done to the Black Tower.

After the other Storm Leader waved them on ahead of him, Arath led Tai'Dashan and Sereth along the familiar path to the nearby assembly grounds.  As they walked, Arath couldn't help but pause and stare at the site of yesterday's battle.  Little trace remained even after so short a time.  The bodies of the Storm Leaders had been disposed of, and the wreckage of the ruined stable had been completely cleared away.  A pile of construction materials stood to the side of the newly cleared site, ready to be thrown together. 

The only thing that hadn't been touched yet was the black charred pit where Brent's body had been destroyed.  It seemed nobody could bring themselves to do anything about that yet.  Arath bit off a laugh as he realized that the pit occupied the place where the Traitor's Tree used to stand.  A fitting end for a man who would only be remembered as a traitor.

When they reached the assembly grounds, Arath motioned for the two new Attack Leaders to take up their positions around the edges of the crowd, while he made his way up to the podium with the other Storm Leaders.  He heard a few comments from the crowd as he took his position, wondering murmurs and hushed whispers.  Apparently the activities of the previous day had not only increased Covai's reputation, but his own as well.  Not that it was avoidable he supposed.  Nobody could get away with fighting the M'Hael and killing a Storm Leader in front of half of the tower and avoid notice.

Leaving the handful of questions that floated up from the crowd unanswered, Arath waited patiently for Covai to collect himself and make his announcement.

Looks good to me.

*BT Stamp*

Handle: Tai’Dashan

Character Count: 3

Character Name: Adin Tia'Niende

Contact: MSN via "ethomefone13@msn.com"

Age: 26

Place of Origin: Arafel

Hair Color: Dark Brown

Eye Color: Ice blue

Height: 5’11

Weight:  165 lbs

Physical Description: Adin is ruggedly handsome with ice blue eyes and darker brown hair worn in Arafellen style. He stands just under 6 foot and well muscled weighing 165 pounds. He has light colored skin, on which sits a scar that runs down from just above his jaw on the right side, down to his ribs.

Backround: Adin was born and raised in Shor Arbela to a noble family Tia’Niende. His Father’s first wife and Adin’s mother Lady Riridin, died when he was 6. His father courted many women but did not end up remarrying. Adin had one brother Mael who disappeared mysteriously from Shor Arblea when he was just 15, his brother being 5 years older than him. Left to inherit his family’s estates, Adin trained in Politics, the Old Tongue, and of course the sword. While he was training at the age of 23, his father growing older, he was wounded by a spiteful fellow in an unfair attack which has given him his scar. Often times he rubs the scar on his jaw when he is lost in thought, wearing high collars to hide the scar on his neck. Drinking in a more tasteful tavern one night he engaged a peculiar, black coated man in a game of Stones. Over the Board they talked of life, women and drink. Eventually as the night wore on, conversation turned to heavier matters. The man spoke of the Dragon Reborn, the Shadow and the army needed to fight. Being born a true borderlander, Adin was stirred to passion and started to agree heartily with the man. It was then that the man did something unexpected. After asking if Adin was willing to fight the Shadow, the man held his hand out above the Stones board. A flame appeared in the air and the man explained that he was a man who had learned to channel in the service of the Dragon Reborn. With the liquor in his system and his honor to spur him on, Adin agreed to test for the ability to channel. Once it was confirmed the oddly dressed man tore a hole in reality and Adin’s new life began…abandoning his old life, or so he thought.

Arath listened carefully to what Sereth had to say.  It was actually fairly close to what he himself had done in Shienar before the dreadlord attacks.  Considering Sereth hadn't witnessed that particular part of the battle in Shienar, Arath was impressed. 

"Groups of seven or eight.  One maintaining a gateway for a hasty retreat, two to focus primarily on defensive weaves, four or five unleashing everything they can."  Arath nodded.  "That's what I did in Shienar while you were in Fal Moran.  Gateways opened up a short distance from the trolloc flanks and we all jumped through, focusing on the fades if we could.  Each strike only lasted until the enemy lost their shock and came after us in force, then we jumped back through the gateway.

"It went well until the dreadlords showed up.  A gateway takes enough of the power that it can be sensed from quite a distance, so whenever one opened too close to them they were ready for us.  Even if they couldn't tell exactly where it was they could sense the general direction."  Arath paused and considered the Attack Leader.  "How would you suggest overcoming that difficulty?"

Fun fun.

Handle: Arath Faringal

Real name: David

WT Characters Played: Rochel Dion (novice)

Email/MSN: the_dragon_re4@hotmail.com

*maniacal giggles*

This'll be fun.  As long as the two of you don't mind a roomie who really dislikes Aes Sedai, and everyone aspiring to become one.

Character Name: Toram Eldin

DM Handle: Dragon420

Contact me at: Mossberg420[@]Live.com

Age: 23

Height: 6'2''

Weight: approximately 200 lbs.

Hair: Brown

Eyes: Hazel

From: Four Kings in Andor

Personality: Toram is easygoing, able to get along with most people, slow to anger but once he does get angry he will explode in a violent rage although this can be contained with a great force of will. He is a shy and almost timid person, not outgoing at all, sometimes he is accused of being too nice. He is fairly intelligent for not having any noble's "fancy" schooling, a quick learner. Toram likes to have fun, but does not drink to excess except on very rare occasions. He tends to keep his feelings/emotions contained inside. He would rather study than go out on the town, although he does enjoy his few friends company. He is loathe to break his promises. Toram wears clothing in the Andoran fashion preferring medium blue coats and dark trousers with a white shirt, he does not wear a hat.

Physical Description: Toram is tall, with wide shoulders and a thick chest, while not heavily muscled he is not fat either somewhere in between such as stocky. He has shoulder length hair that he wears tied at the base of his neck. While not very athletic he has some hidden reserves of stamina that may surprise some of those that do not know him. Not being very strong he has some good reflexes, and for being a sort of large man can walk fairly quiet when the need arises. He has fair skin, though not too pale, from his preferred indoor activities.

Biography: Toram Eldin is the son of John and Sara Eldin, owners of the Red Roof Inn in Four Kings. He has two sisters Johanna four years his elder, and Jessa one year younger than him. The home life foe him was pleasant but too normal. He craved adventure. Some may call it wanderlust, but he just simply referred to it as boredom. After years of helping around the inn doing minor clerical duties, cleaning, and carrying things, he got tired of it all and and wanted to see some of the world. So he started his journey to the east heading towards Cairhien and after spending a couple weeks in the capital got bored once again and headed south to Illian and warmer climates. After spending a couple months working at an inn doing menial work for food, lodging, and a little spending money, the boredom sank in once more. He headed east again, this time to Tear. After only a week or so he befriended a man who always wore a black coat. He learned a couple weeks later what he was. An Asha'man. But instead of being terrified of knowing a man who could channel he was intrigued. The man asked him if he would be willing to serve the Lord Dragon. While hesitant to agree, he finally consented to being tested for the ability. He passed. Afraid of going mad, but also wanting a change in his life, he went to The Farm. And now who knows what will happen. Will he go mad, or die in battle? Maybe he would live to fight alongside his new lord in the Final Battle.... Only time will tell. Long live The Dragon.

Hmmm .... *considers*

I'm gonna have to head out of town for a few days, so I'm leaving things in Covai's capable hands until I get back.  Should be Tuesday or Wednesday.  I'm pretty sure I won't have any net access while I'm gone, but if I do I'll pop in for a bit.

So play nice, and direct any and all questions toward Covai.

Arath had expected to be set upon by any number of Asha'man with ideas for battle tactics.  Many of the borderlanders had come forward, offering their 'superior knowledge' on shadowspawn maneuvers.  He wasn't expecting to be approached by Sereth though.  The quiet Asha'man who could be found lost in a book more often than not.  Though come to think of it, Arath wasn't sure what kinds of books Sereth read.  He wouldn't have put it past him to have read more than a few about military matters.  This timid behavior would have to go though.  It wasn't exactly befitting for an Attack Leader.

"Hunters?  Tell me then.  How would you use hunters in a large scale battle?"

OOC: Sorry it's short, but there's not much to go on. :P

Edited in light of your promotion happening at the same time as mine.

Flowers?  How was picturing a flower supposed to help them embrace Saidar?  Rochel briefly wondered if the Brown sister had lost her mind, but decided to play along.  She frowned for a moment, trying to imagine a flower.  She had never really paid much attention to such things, had never really taken the time to look at a flower closely.  But she did remember some of the flower arrangements her mother had made.  Resanna loved her flowers.  Particularly any rare ones she could find.  One time she had managed to find blue roses, and had covered the house with them.  Rochel had been annoyed with them, but now they were the only flower that stuck out in her mind.

Picturing the rosebud in her mind, Rochel waited for something to happen.  Sunshine beaming down on the flower.  Nothing.  Maybe there was a sense of warmth coming from the center of the tightly shut bud, but nothing else.  Quickly growing bored, Rochel began to peel the petals off the flower in her mind.  As she did, the warmth she imagined seemed to fade away.  She frowned and started over.  Blue rosebud.  Sunshine.  Eventually the rose began to creep open, ever so slowly, and she began to feel the warmth again.  When the flower had opened up just enough, she felt a surge of that warmth.  Surprised, Rochel opened her eyes and looked up at Claire.  The Brown sister gave her a little smile and a nod.  That was it?  That was Saidar?  It seemed so ... over rated.

The next exercise seemed even stranger to Rochel.  The sea, flowing into a river?  Besides the obvious flaw in that picture (everyone knew that rivers flowed to the ocean, not the other way around), Rochel had a hard time figuring out why this was supposed to help.  It just didn't seem to fit with the idea of surrendering to Saidar.  A riverbank didn't surrender to anything.  It always stayed exactly how it was, firm and unyielding.  And the river didn't surrender either.  She had seen rivers rise over their banks, going wherever they pleased without regard for anything else. 

Despite her misgivings, Rochel gave the exercise a shot.  She was the river, flowing around the bend, between the rocks, down the slopes, over the rapids ... she shook her head.  That was more exciting than calming.  One more time.  River.  Smooth flowing.  Her brothers skipping stones, her laughing.  Her eyes popped open.  That wasn't exactly what they were supposed to do, but it did the job.  That was a rather pleasant memory of time spent with her brothers.  One of the last times she'd been able to run actually.  She'd broken her leg only days later.  Probably not what Claire was after, but it did have a calming effect on her.

Over the next hour, Rochel did just as instructed, alternating between the river and the rosebud.  That brief moment of warmth she felt when she managed to touch Saidar didn't seem like much for the awesome One Power she had heard of, but it was a start.  By the end of the hour she had managed to hold onto it for a few seconds at a time.  She had to admit it felt good, but it didn't seem like something she couldn't live without.  Maybe it would grow harder.  Claire had mentioned that it was addictive.

Despite herself, Rochel was looking forward to the next lesson.  Even after finding out that their assignment had been expanded, and being rushed out of the class, she couldn't help but feel somewhat eager for tomorrow.  Her eagerness faded somewhat as she made her way to the library, but some of it remained, sustaining her through her daily chores.  What would tomorrrow hold in store?

"Your first lesson, will be something that I hope is very familiar."  Arath paced up and down the lines, power amplified voice still ringing out.  "All of you learned this is soldiers.  You will form your battle lines.  Healers will be in the back, lending combat support in weaker parts of the line until they are needed.  Soldiers and Dedicated, you form the front ranks.  Every fifth man will form a solid barrier of air, floating a few paces above the ground and overlapping his weaves with the shields on either side of him.  There should be no reason for an arrow or spear to reach you."  Arath noticed a shamed look pass over the faces of many of the Shienar survivors.  Few of them had bothered to use air shields, assuming that the fortifications they had made would suffice.  As a result, many had taken injuries from arrows or thrown weapons.  Too many had died simply from that one mistake.

"The rest of you," continued Arath, "will focus on destructive weaves.  Initially, use fireballs and lightning if you have the strength for it.  Cause as much devestation on the enemy as you can from a distance.  If they are foolish enough to come closer, change your weaves.  Turn the earth itself against them.  Spikes, pitfalls, ... whatever you can manage.

"If they make it close enough for you to begin to pick individual targets for your weaves, begin killing in the most burtal but efficient way you can.  Cause them to explode, or combust, rend the earth beneath their feet.  Quickly shift your weaves from one target to the next, working with the men on either side of you to make sure nothing gets close.  And remember to shield yourself from metal and bone fragments.  Being killed by a piece of the trolloc you just ripped to pieces would be embarassing to say the least."  He noticed another uncomfortable ripple through the survivors.  Far too many of them had forgotten such a basic rule, and had neglected to cover themselves from their own blasts, ending up drenched in the acrid blood of trollocs and pierced by pieces of armor.  One soldier had died after being showered in the blood of a Fade he had destroyed.

"Although all of you carry a melee weapon, you shouldn't have to use it in a major battle.  If the enemy comes closer than ten paces, it is time to break their advance.  Those of you maintaining the protective barriers will lower them to the ground and bar the way forward.  You will only have a brief respite though.  The purpose is more to allow the enemy to gather up as thick as they can before unleashing a rolling ring of earth and fire.  All of you will work in tandem, overlapping your weaves and pushing them forward in a wave of fire and death.  Keep it up until the enemy retreat, then switch back to your longer ranged weaves."

Shifting the focus of his discussion, Arath continued.  "Asha'man.  You are the elite troops, the most advanced.  Therefore, you will be expected to deal the most devestation.  Where the soldiers and Dedicated rend the earth, you will break it.  Where they burn a trolloc to the ground, you will incinerate an entire fist to dust.  Unleash molten earth upon them.  Let the lightnings fall as rain.  And most importantly, protect those of lesser rank.  You have more freedom to choose your actions, but do not use that freedom irresponsibly."

Returning to the front and center of the group, Arath surveyed the crowd.  "Disappointed in what I've told you?  Maybe so.  This is exactly the same thing that you've been taught before.  But it seems it didn't take last time around.  We'll see that it does this time.  This is only our most basic method of combat.  It will need to be adapted for circumstances and enemy tactics, and we will work on that later, but this is our basis.  If you do not know it, you will fail.  Let's get started."

He waved his arm over the trolloc army arranged over the training grounds.  "Since these trollocs are unable to move and advance, we will go through the waves in reverse.  Form battle ranks ten paces in front of the enemy line!"

As the men scrambled into position, Arath grimaced to himself.  He disliked this method of training, but it was necessary this time.  Even if the Asha'man had worked in perfect unison in Shienar they would have lost, overwhelmed by the Dreadlord circles.  But not nearly so many of them would have died.  As the last of the men fell into position, Arath walked forward and joined the line himself.  Channeling air, he wove the first of the protective barriers that would save them from any projectile weapons, placing it several paces in front of the line and curving it up gently.  As quickly as the men could count off, more and more barriers joined it, overlapping and providing an impenetrable wall of defense.

"On my mark, raise the barrier and unleash the rolling ring of earth and fire!"  He felt Saidin surge up in the men all around him.  "NOW!"

OOC:  Alrighty, sorry this took so long.  Post more speach reactions and then go through the 'battle'.  Remember that you're working in reverse order from a normal battle though, and adapt your weaves to match those of NPC's on either side of you.  If you're a healer, you're still doing battle weaves, though you can heal some idiot who still doesn't shield himself. :)

So get to it.  I want the training grounds to look like a freshly (if badly) plowed field by the end of this :D

Rochel sat gingerly on the end of her bed, thinking up all manner of horrible things she might do to that light blasted Accepted.  She knew it was foolish to argue with someone, especially after being here such a short time.  But Rochel was not one to stand for useless wastes of time, and these 'hundred weaves' the accepted had prattled on about had indeed seemed useless.  A hundred weaves that in the end did nothing?  What was the point.  A snide remark, and a sharp discussion that had almost ended in a tussle on the floor had earned her a meeting with the Mistress of Novices' slipper.  That woman had quite an arm.

The redness in her eyes had not quite subsided when her door banged open and a curious looking Domani woman stepped inside.  Rochel jumped, bouncing on the bed and putting a fresh twinge into her wounded backside.  Getting to her feet, she dropped a respectful curtsey to the other Domani woman, something else she had recieved a sharp lesson about. 

"I am Lavinya Sedai; I am to be your mentor." Lavinya at last softened her face somewhat with a small smile. "I will help you with your training, among other things. What is your name, child?"

Rochel blinked in surprise.  This was her mentor?  She gave the woman another quick appraisal.  She was surprised to see that she was short, an odd attribute in a Domani.  The very red hair was interesting as well.  The very Domani dress was almost enough to get Rochel to smile.  She had almost given up on ever being able to wear those again.  It seemed anyone who gained the shawl was allowed to be whoever they wanted, rather than the mindless drone they expected of the novices.

"I am Rochel Dion," she said politely.  "Pleased to meet you Lavinya Sedai."

Rochel managed a few weak half-smiles while the Mistress of Novices spoke.  When she was offered tea and cookies she politely accepted.  She was thirsty anyway.  The cookies weren't too bad either.  And so she found herself waiting while the Aes Sedai scribbled out a note.

"I’ve assigned Lavinya Morganen of the Grey Ajah to you – she’ll explain the rules to you, and guide you through your first months in the Tower.”

Grey Ajah.  Rochel wasn't sure what that meant, but she held her tongue.  She was sure it was one of those things she'd have to pick up pretty soon anyway, so it might as well come in due course.  Looking down into her cup, she was surprised to see it was empty, and that more than a few of the cookies seemed to have disappeared.  “Before I take you to your new room, there is something we have to do first. Come with me, child, and bring your old clothes with you.”

Standing and wiping the crumbs from her skirt, Rochel followed out to a quiet courtyard.  Depositing her clothing in the center, Rochel waited, slightly confused.  “What I am about to do is a symbolic gesture of the end of your old life. Once this is done, you enter a new life, breaking all bonds with the past. The White Tower is your life, your future.”  Rochel stared the Aes Sedai in the eye, almost challengingly.  We'll see about that, she thought miserably.  She was a little surprised when her bundle burst into flames.  Her eyes narrowed.  She had liked that dress.  A hand dropped gently on the her shoulder, in what she assumed was supposed to be a reassuring gesture.  It felt more like it was placing an iron collar on her. “Welcome to the Tower. Welcome to your new life.” It was all Rochel could do to keep her teeth from grinding. “Come, let’s get you settled into your room.”

Determined as she was to not like this place, Rochel couldn't help but be impressed by the White Tower.  The massive hallways, the great tapestries, all the exquisite details added up to put anything in Bandar Eban to shame.  She knew she should have been honored to have this opportunity to live in such a grand place, and learn to use the One Power.  She just couldn't bring herself to care though, so she sulked.  It was better than crying, which also seemed a good choice at the moment.

“Well, here we are at your room. Remember that you are to keep it, and yourself, clean at all time. I will see you tomorrow morning in my office to assign you to classes. Good day, child.”

And with that, Larindhra Sedai swept off imperiously, leaving a bewildered Rochel on her own.  A quick look at her rooms was all that was needed to take it all in.  They were boring.  Clean and comfortable, but stark and emotionless.  All white.  Keep it clean indeed.  With that much white it would be a daily task, even if she spent as little time there as possible.  She had the sinking feeling that was the intent. 

With a resigned sigh, she crossed the small room and flopped down onto the bed.  How had this happened?  How dare her mother do this to her, without even asking if it was what she wanted?  Before she knew it, Rochel found herself sobbing angrily into her pillow, thinking up every curse she had ever heard her older brothers say.  This just wasn't fair.

Sitting in the hall was boring.  So far the only excitement Arath had had was turning away a pair of dedicated and an Asha'man, all inquiring about M'Hael Seriba.  He wondered who had started that up, and what Covai would do to him when he found out.  Considering how Covai had always felt about the position, he didn't think it would go well.

He was finally saved from his boredom when the door to Covai's room cracked open.  Daerik Ladryn poked his head out and motioned to Arath.  Wondering what kind of errand they needed him to run, Arath pushed off from the wall and started forward.  To his surprise, the Domani man pulled open the door and invited him in.  Not sure what was going on, he cautiously entered the room.

All six surviving Storm Leaders were spread throughout the room, and every eye focused an appraising look upon him.  It was a little unsettling.  Rorol Baldere broke the silence after a few uneasy moments.  "We've been having a little discussion about you Arath.  About what kind of man tries to take on the M'Hael and a pair of storm leaders."

"A bloody fool I say," grunted Waeyl Daasel, "but a brave one.

"But not one we want as Baijin'M'Hael," said Haykes.  Arath blinked in surprise.  He was being relieved of his position?

"Oh enough of this," Joeran said gruffly.  "Stop bloody messing with him."  He turned his gaze on Arath.  "Covai wants a seventh Storm Leader for his ruling council, and you've been chosen to fill the spot."  He paused for a moment.  "Congratulations, Tsorovan'M'Hael."

Arath would have thought it was a joke, only Joeran was well known at the Farm for not having a sense of humour.  He still glanced at Covai to make sure.  His friend was simply smiling into his mug again.  A tap at the door gave Arath a moment to collect himself.  The girl Arath had spoken to earlier came in bearing a large tray of food which she set on the table next to Covai.  She quickly scurried from the room when she noticed everyone silently watching her.

As Covai set into his food, everyone else shifted their focus back to Arath.  "Thank you," he said simply.  "All of you.  So what is this council you spoke of Joeran?"