http://www.dragonmount.com/forums/viewtopic.php?t=8927

I believe this is the one you speak of?  Not a lot to go on for making a bio but it's a start.

Serge will be in this group as well.

 

At the same time as this RP, Maegan (the former Highest, bonded to Serge) will feel him arrive in Tar Valon, and go running to inform the Highest that an Asha'man is in the city.  The Highest will grab her Sitters and go to the Amyrlin and Keeper.  The Amyrlin will send sisters to escort the delegation to her offices. :)

None of the former bonds are supposed to be in effect anymore. 

Although never actually RP'd out, ALL the bonds were to be released and the Aes Sedai returned to Tar Valon.  As I understand it anyway.

Arath had only just fallen asleep when the ear splitting scream broke the nights silence.  He sat bolt upright in bed just as his door fell open and someone stumbled into the room.  Immediately siezing Saidin, Arath lit the room with a flare of light and saw Michelle crawling to the side of his bed.

“Some madman is out there!”

Flicking his eyes toward the door, Arath saw the point of a sword enter the room.  Why didn't my wards trigger?  Rolling off the side of the bed, Arath prepared a flame arrow weave to fling the moment the intruder stepped around the door. 

When Tai'Dashan's face followed the sword around the corner, Arath blinked in confusion.  Tai attacked Michelle?  Suddenly the problem dawned on him.  Light, I didn't warn either of them ...  Letting the flame arrow weave dissolve, Arath instead slammed a shield on his student and took his sword away with a flow of air.  Another air weave snaked out and held Michelle in place.

Calmly walking between the two, Arath scrubbed his fingers through his hair.  "Michelle, this is Tai'Dashan, my student.  He might look dirty and crazy, but he will NOT," he paused and looked pointedly at Tai, "harm you.  Tai, Michelle here is an old friend of mine, and my guest.  She's much tougher than she looks, so for your own safety, try not to scare her anymore."

Arath slumped back into his seat and hefted the wineskin.  He knew that this was inevitable.  He had seen the attacks leveled against them in Shienar.  Or rather, had not seen some of them.  Saidar.  Logically, this was the only option available to them.  He took a long drink, draining most of what remained in the wineskin. 

It might be the only option, but he didn't have to like it.

"Covai ... I don't know if it will work.  It needs to, but after what's happened in the last year ..."  And a lot had happened to further hinder relations, nevermind the three thousand years of the Red Ajah hunting down men who could channel.  The Aes Sedai attempt to kidnap Jarron and the subsequent battle at Dumai's Wells.  The more recent incident with the dozen Aes Sedai captured at the Black Tower itself.  There would be more than enough hard feelings on either side to make an alliance impossible.

"Do you think the Aes Sedai will go with this?  Brent's handling of things the last time we dealt with them might be ... problematic."

Name: David

Counrty: USA (west coast)

MSN/email: the_dragon_re4(at)hotmail.com

Division/Posistion: Black Tower ADL, IC Attack Leader (Storm Leader by the time this all happens)

PM's, MSN, email . . . I'm easy to get ahold of :D

Problem is that there are no active characters who are stronger than Geirrin.  With 37 he's tied for first (and the other guy is still Dedicated).  The only character I know in the whole PSW with a 38 is the M'Hael. 

Basically, you can do all the shielding you want against volunteers, and he won't really notice a difference.

It's a child board to this one.  SNAFU Citadel :P

If anyone involved in this does not have access to the new board, please PM myself, Covai, or Elgee.  We'll hook you up.

Arath laughed.  "Of course I have soap.  Maybe not a wide selection of fragrances to choose from, but I have some.  Shampoo as well."  Honestly.  Male channelers might be doomed to go crazy, but they weren't savages.  Mostly.

As they started back, Arath noticed Michelle shivering and holding his arm tightly.  Deciding to speed things up, he channeled.  A gateway popped open in front of them leading directly into his home.  He quickly pulled Michelle through the portal and closed it behind them, sealing the cold and the wet out. 

"This is my travelling room," he said, waving around the extraordinarily empty and boring room.  "The edges of these gateways are very sharp, so it's better to not have anything around them.  He opened the door into his office and led her across the house to the bath room.

"You should have everything you need in here.  Soap, shampoo, washcloths ... all on that shelf.  Towels in the cupboard.  Oh yes.  The tub."  Arath quickly showed her how to fill the tub from the pipes leading to a cistern above them.  She seemed delighted by that.  Arath had been rather fond of the inovation as well at first.  It had lost its magic after a while.

"Anything else I can do for you?" asked Arath as he channeled fire into the water a few minutes later.

Arath caught the wineskin and took several large swallows before he spoke.  "You look like you've had more than just your toes stepped on.  Aren't you going to get that looked at?" he asked, pointing at the gash on Covai's cheek.  He sighed when the Storm Leader didn't respond.  "I just came from the infirmary.  Three more soldiers and an Asha'man died from their wounds in the last hour.  Couldn't survive healing and didn't stabilize on their own."  He took another swig before tossing the skin back.  The silence stretched uncomfortably between them for a long while.  It was hard to find anything to say in the wake of the disaster that had befallen them.

"How are we supposed to beat that?" he asked suddenly.  "They couldn't have outnumbered us.  We must have had them at least ten to one, and they still tore us apart."  He slammed a fist onto the table in front of him.  "Blood and ashes!  Over one hundred of us dead, and we can't even confirm that we killed a single bloody dreadlord!"

Arath couldn't help but laugh as Michelle seemed to explode with excitement.  Dresses, shoes, mirrors, chairs . . . quite the list of things she was excited over.  Arath was glad to see it.  It had been horrible to see her crying in that inn in Caemlyn.  Happy was much better.  He wasn't so sure about the sword training though.  She was a bit smaller than the majority of the soldiers, so was at quite a disadvantage.  But he supposed he could teach her something.

"Yes, yes.  I'll can help you get anything you want.  And we can get it from wherever you want to.  And yes, I can teach you how to use a sword.  You'll get bruised from it, but if it's what you want ... I'll do it."

They continued to watch the two dedicateds spar until they mock battle was over.  One of them slipped on the slightly muddy ground and fell flat on his back.  Laughing, the victor helped his grumbling companion to his feet.  Arath and Michelle both laughed as they walked away from the training grounds.  Most everyone else was leaving anyway.  It was getting late, and the rain made things uncomfortable.

"I'm not sure whats available right now," Arath said as they wandered around the tower grounds, "but if you want we can go see if there is any furniture available.  All of the Asha'man had lives and jobs before they came here, and many of them continue what they did before, as much as they can anyway.  A few of them I know were talented carpenters ..."  He trailed off, not sure exactly what to do.  It occured to him suddenly just how very much he had altered his friend's life, and he felt responsible to take care of her.  No matter how badly it hurt him in the purse.

Arath looked over the oncoming scores of trollocs and fades, a cold fury built up inside him and hovering around the edges of the void.  He needed to focus.  The Black Tower's remaining forces were slim, but they were the elite.  The full Asha'man.  They would hold as long as necesary.  But the dreadlords knew that the retreat was begun, and they seemed determined to cause as much death as they could before the chance slipped away.

Averting his eyes as Covai wove his flare, Arath spared a glance at the still retreating men.  Most of them were gone.  Just a few dedicated still holding gateways, and a handful of others still completing some task or another before they too fled the battle.  Lightning flashed down into the now mostly emptied fortress.  Arath looked up at the sky and ground his teeth.  Thick cables of Saidin were being woven through the clouds, spurring the storm on and building up the intensity.  Soon the lightning would fall like rain.

But Arath knew how to deal with lightning.  He had done it before, against another of the forsaken.  It was reckless, and dangerous to himself and everyone around him, but bloody effective.  Shouting orders to the Asha'man around him, Arath directed them to call as much lightning as possible down on the field in front of them.  The lightning would fall, but much of it would fall away from them until he was ready for it.

Drawing deeply on Saidin, Arath began to weave heavy amounts of earth and fire around himself, making something close to a grounded shield.  Over the top of it he prepared air and fire, not quite finishing the weave to call lightning down upon himself.  Finally, he wove the complex weave of all five powers that would normally send lightning forth from his hands, but instead attached it to his shield also.  The result looked messy, but had proven it's worth before. 

Arath scanned the skies, trying to find where the weaves controling the storm were originating from.  It seemed as though it was coming from a hill roughly a half mile distant.  He couldn't see anything on the hill, but that's where the weaves seemed to come from.  Giving warning to his comrades and motioning them to step away from him, the Attack Leader stretched his hand toward the hill, and sent flows of the power to extend his odd weave in that direction.  At the same time, he finished the lightning weave and released his weapon. 

The world went white, and impossibly loud.  A tremendous roar threatened to tear his ears apart, and he felt himself quiver as unbelievable amounts of energy coursed through the air around him.  It was all over in an instant, but it seemed an hour.  Gradually he began to come to his senses again, remembering how to blink, remembering how to see.  Breathing.  Breathing was good. 

A few seconds were all that had elapsed before Arath put everything back together and began to struggle to sit up.  Moving hurt, but he didn't seem to be injured too badly.  His head throbbed though.  He doubted he would be able to sieze the source for a while, let alone channel for anymore of the battle.  The battle ... Arath looked around suddenly as he suddenly remembered the fight raging around them.  Hands reached down to grab him and help him to stand as the Asha'man finally came to assist him.  Peering over the wall, Arath saw what his attack had done. 

The hill in the distance seemed relatively unscathed.  A scorch mark marred much of the top, but not as much as Arath would have believed.  The real carnage lay in a straight line leading up to the hill.  The lightning blast had apparently travelled low enough to the ground that pieces of it arced down to strike anything below it.  A scorched line twenty paces wide and a half mile long was littered with the twisted remains shadowspawn.  Scores of them.  That would have to be enough.  He hoped that at least a few dreadlords had died in the blast.

Arath looked up and down the walls at the Asha'man.  They were fighting, but they were falling.  Slowly, one by one, they were beginning to fall to the ever increasing barrage of attacks.  A glance down at the courtyard told him that all of the lesser ranks had now fully retreated. It was time for the rest of them to do so as well.  "Retreat," he shouted.  Or tried to anyway.  It mostly came out as a hoarse croak.  The man helping him to stand shouted it out for him though, and the Asha'man fell back from the wall, carrying any of their fallen brothers with them.  As Arath made his way through the gateway, his pent up frustration finally broke through, and tears streamed down his face.  Never again, he swore silently to himself.  Never again will we be forced to run. Next time, we will crush them.

That thing was also seen at the Black Tower wasn't it?  Right after the Watchers.

Arath was glad for the distraction from his paper work.  After Michelle had fallen asleep he had returned from Caemlyn with his group and the handful of new recruits they had found.  He had been been fairly busy ever since.  He had also changed some of the wards on his home to allow for the presence of his guest.  It wouldn't do to have an accident.

Rising from his desk he nodded.  "Absolutely.  Any excuse to be away from ... this."  He waved disgustedly at the paper pile.  "There isn't a whole lot to see, but it's better than staring at the walls all day."

Offering Michelle his arm, they set off out the front door.  Arath pointed out the various parts of the farm, a small city now.  "This area is all houses for Asha'man and their families.  Not a lot of families ... but enough.  Barrack for the lower ranks are over their," he said, pointing north.  "You'll probably want to avoid that area for now."

As they walked, Arath placed a simple weave over the top of them to shield them from the drizzling rain.  Ignoring the cold was simple enough.  Ignoring the wet wasn't.  "Over here we have the inn.  The best food in the Black Tower and pretty much the center of social life here.  Everyone comes here to unwind after a long day.  My friend Covai runs the place."  Arath looked around for a moment.  The grand tour was actually turning out to be pretty boring.  "I don't think you really want to be visiting the inn right now, all things considered.  Where can I take you?  What do you want to see?"

Arath nodded.  "Of course.  It's a lot to take in all of a sudden."  All of a sudden indeed.  Not even half an hour from the time they saw eachother in the common room, and she was a full days ride from Caemlyn.

Walking over to the window, Arath channeled.  Air reached out and grabbed a bucket sitting next to a water barrel.  A moment later, the newly filled bucket floated up through the window and came to rest on the floor.  A quick burst of fire heated the chilly water until steam was rising in thick misty curls. 

"There you go.  I need to go back to Caemlyn for a bit.  I left some of my men there and they'll be looking for me soon.  I should be back before long.  You can go wherever you please.  If anyone asks just say you're the guest of Attack Leader Faringal."  He thought for a moment.  "And don't go into the basement.  It's not that I don't want you to see whats down there, but the door will blow up if anyone but me opens it."  He thought again for a moment, then nodded.  That should be it.  He gave her a smile, then walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Arath shrugged.  "Could be.  I've never heard of anyone trying to channel the wrong way through an angreal either, so that may have just been causing feedback.  Trying to push a river back upstream so to speak."  He paused, rubbing his chin in contemplation.  "Burn me if I'm going to try that again though.  Sounds like walking through the wrong end of a gateway."

Taking the pin back from Covai, Arath pulled on Saidin as hard as he could.  It still felt the same.  "I'd guess this takes about a quarter of my power away.  Useless in battle.  I'd almost be afraid to use it for anything else either.  Channeling clean Saidin is ... amazing.  But what happens if you get too used to it, then are forced to jump back into the taint again?"

Releasing the source, Arath stared down at the pin in his hand.  "I wonder what would happen if I made another?  Would it weaken you more to draw through two like this?  Or would they add up and finally give you a strength increase?"

Arath chuckled as Michelle buried her face in his arm.  He remembered well his first experience with skimming.  It was rather ... unsettling.  She seemed to adjust though, and the inevitable barrage of questions came at him.

"This is about the safest way in the world to travel.  So long as you don't touch the edges of the gateways.  And we're going directly to my home.  We should come out in my guest room.  The house is at a place we call the Black Tower.  Kind of misleading since there isn't an actual tower there, but it's fitting since we're the balance to the Aes Sedai and the White Tower.

"As far as the other men go ..." he paused for a moment.  "Honestly, men go mad there on a daily basis.  But no sane man will give you trouble on my command.  And I will protect you from any insane man that you come across."

A moment later Arath felt the platform arrive at their destination.  Re-weaving his gateway, the silvery blue flash rotated open into the spare bedroom of his home.  Letting Michelle step through first, Arath passed through the portal and let it snap shut behind him.  "Well, this is it.  My home.  And ... yours.  For as long as you want.  This will be your room."  He gestured around the decent sized bedroom.  The furnishings were sparse, but serviceable.  One of the perks of being an Attack Leader was first pick of whatever furniture came available.  Realizing it might not be 'warm' enough he added, "Feel free to redecorate it however you want.  I only finished building the place a few months back, and decorating hasn't been high on my priority list."

For a moment, Arath couldn't seem to move anything but his jaw, and no sound seemed to come out of that either.  Did she just punch out the innkeeper?  He knew she might be excited about leaving Caemlyn, but this was ... well, come to think of it he should have expected something like this.  Michelle was never one for acting rationally.

She was back quicker than Arath would have believed possible, carrying a large bag, and with an elated look on her face.  “You say you will take me anywhere?”  He nodded.  “Then take me with you!  Take me to this new place you are at!  I want to see it!  And I don’t want to lose my best friend again…”

Arath blinked in surprise.  Of all the places she could ask to go ... She must not realize what she was asking for.  "Michelle," he began cautiously, "there are over a thousand of us ... men like me ... at that place.  Are you sure-"  Another slap caught him by surprise.  Softer than the others, but still enough to sting his already tender cheek.  With a slight glare at his violent friend, Arath pulled Michelle out of the way, siezed Saidin, and wove the complex flows of Spirit to open a gateway.  The familiar silvery blue flash rotated open into total darkness.  Arath stepped inside onto the platform that materialized under his feet.  With a slight smile he reached out to take her hand and help her in.  She'd asked for it.  She might as well get used to the channeling.  "If you're ready then ..."

Arath didn't really know what to think.  How could she accept it?  He could tell she was still struggling with the fact that he could channel, but she was trying.  Most women couldn't accept that.  The vast majority of married Asha'man were abandoned by their families when they came to the Farm. 

"I'm sorry.  Really, I was gone from the city ten minutes after I ran into the Asha'man.  I thought about you a lot afterward.  By the time I was free to come back I assumed you'd be gone."

The sound of a heavy person thumping their way up the stairs intruded upon them, accompanied by shouts for a "useless, addled-brained, fool of a girl" which Arath assumed to be Michelle, and judging by the way her face soured as she looked at the door, he was right.  Overtaken by a sudden sense of protectiveness, Arath turned back to Michelle and said, "I can help get you out of here.  Wherever you want to go, from Saldea to Tear, I can have you there within the hour."  A bang on the door made them both jump.  "Or sooner if you wish."  He wondered what the innkeeper would think if they travelled straight out of the room, leaving her keys lock inside.  An oddly satisfying thought.

With a supreme effort, Arath refrained from rubbing his temples during Tai's speech.  Avoid the pointy end . . . he'd earned a few bruises for that one.

The apprehension was plain on his mentee's face as he squared off against Arath.  Arath didn't do much to start with.  A few simple feints and easily parried attacks.  A few wide grins to unnerve him a little more.

"It's been fun but lets stop playing and get it over with."  Arath only grinned again as Tai leapt forward.  Tai launched as many attacks, as quickly as he could.  Arath, wielding two blades, didn't have much of a problem parrying the attacks.  But now was his time to use Tai's own lesson to the rest of the class against him.  He slowed down his blocks just a little, allowing Tai to find holes in his defenses.  He didn't ever land a blow.  Didn't even come close actually, but Arath feigned a look of concentration, as if Tai'Dashan were pressing harder than he had expected.  And Tai played right into it, gaining confidence with each swing.

Soon enough, Tai was pressing his attacks, leaving his defenses wide open.  That's when Arath struck.  Spinning quickly to the side of a heavy thrust by Tai, Arath thrust his left blade toward Tai's arms, striking him on the wrist and making him lose his grip with that hand.  The right blade cut in low and hit the dedicated behind the knee, buckling it.  Letting his momentum carry him past the falling man, Arath spun quickly and brought his blades down on both of Tai's shoulders.  Then for good measure, dragged them across his back in an X shape.  While tapping Tai repeatedly on the head with his sword, Arath turned back to the class.

"Letting your opponent see what you want him too is a good start.  Making him see what he wants is where you'll find victory.  Dedicated Tai'Dashan wanted very badly to hit me, and so I let him see that he had a chance.  And for that he would have been hamstrung, disarmed, sliced open, and would have a sizeable dent in his head."  Arath dropped his swords to his sides and let Tai stand up.  He nodded to the Dedicated, letting him know he had done well.  Then he turned to his other two victims.  "Jakes.  Your turn."

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

Twenty minutes later, two more students had been battered and bruised after equally dismal speeches, and even worse sparring matches.  Arath sighed as he looked at his third opponent, laying flat in the mud.  Very few of them showed any promise of ever being able to use a sword properly.  Arath walked over to the prone dedicated and addressed the class. "There is no room here anyone who is willing to give less than their all here. No matter your sitation, no matter your weapon, no matter your opponent, you give until theres nothing left to give. If you are up against a dreadlord, or one of the forsaken, anything less than your all is death. They won't hold back for you." He looked down at Dirk and tapped his forehead with the tip of his earthen blade. "If I had been a fade instead of your instructor you would be missing your arms instead of collecting bruises." Stepping back and looking up at the others he continued. "We may not aspire to glory, to have the bards and gleemen sing about us, but your efforts should always be worthy of a song. Be a legend in your family. And know that if you do give up in the middle of a real battle, if the enemy doesn't kill you, I will. Any questions?"

When nobody said anything, he let the weaves holding his swords unravel and reached down and pulled the Dedicated to his feet.  Clapping him on the shoulder, Arath sent the man back to the rest of the group.

"Now then, as useful as it is to know how to fight when you're shielded, you should also know how to get out of such an awful predicament. Some of you have figured out by now that shields give and bend if you push on them hard. If you push hard enough, you can break through it, but only if the person shielding you is much weaker than you are. However, there is a way to get through if the shield is tied off, no matter who did it. Everyone examine the shield between you and Saidin. You'll find a point that's . . . hard. Not the same is the rest of it. This is the weak point. It can take a while to do, but you have to work your way into that point and . . . break it. Flex. It's hard to describe, but you should be able to figure it out.

"So, your final part in this lesson is to break through your shields. But thats too easy. Form up with a new sparring partner and duel. You are to take down your opponent. Disarmed, on the ground, beaten. Hold nothing back. At the same time, you are to break through your shields. First man through gets to channel at the other. So work quickly. Loser's gets to run three Koras laps before lunch."

Arath smiled as the dedicateds launched themselves at eachother, determined to get out of the extra laps.

Arath felt decidedly uncomfortable.  Talking about channeling was never much of a problem with people he didn't know.  Most of the time they were men who wanted to do so as well.  Telling a rediscovered friend who he didn't want to lose again was something else.  But it was hard to say no to a woman who was hugging him and crying.

He stood up and crossed the room.  If she wanted to hear the truth he would at least make sure he wasn't within arms length.  "I told you.  I cut the wrong purse and wasn't really given a choice in the matter.  Have you ever heard of the Asha'man?"  She shook her head slightly, still looking irritated.  He grimaced and kicked at a table leg.  "We're a group of men who ... we ..." Light but this was hard.  "It's easier to show you I guess."

Siezing the source, Arath carefully wove fire and spirit.  A ball of soft red light appeared over his outstretched hand, bathing the room in a warm glow.  He quickly released the source, letting the ball wink out.  He kept his gaze low and said quietly, "I had to go.  They knew I could channel, and I couldn't stay."

“So tell me, where did you go?  Special skills?  Come now, what happened to you?”  Arath fished around wildly for some way to explain without revealing anything.  This was not something he really wanted to discuss at the moment.  Fortunately, Michelle provided her own distraction, and a moment to think.  “Oh Arath, I am so sorry for the mark!”  Judging from the satisfied look on her face when she had done it, Arath would beg to differ, but he wisely kept his silence.

"It's fine.  I've had worse, believe me.  If I recall correctly, you've sewn up worse on me before."  She smiled at that.  Much better than being slapped.  "What I do now is ... it's a bit hard to describe.  I don't live very far away actually.  About a day's ride.  But with what I do it's a bit hard to get away.  I'm kind of a soldier, but that's not really it.  More of a ..." Asha'man "Guardian.  A special protector.  I can't really explain it well."  The annoyed look on her face told him that his explanation wasn't going to cut it.  He steered the subject away to something of more immediate concern.  "We can talk about that some other time.  Now that I know where you are."  He paused for a moment.  "You said your home burnt down last night?  Where are you staying now?"

Arath's ears rung, and his vision blurred as Michelle's full arm slap caught him square in the face.  Right before she tackled him in his chair with a great hug.

“STAY THERE! If you move, I swear to the Creator I will hunt you down and kill you myself.”  He nodded dumbly as she ran back into the kitchens.  Light, what is she still doing here?  Arath could have sworn she would either be running an inn by now, or be back with her family in Lugard.  She was never the kind to let people walk all over her.  He heard shouts in the kitchens as Michelle ran through.  Rubbing his jaw where she had hit him, Arath retrieved his puzzle cube from where it had fallen, rising just in time to see Michelle barrel into him and then drag him upstairs.

As his old friend locked them into a room, Arath wondered if she didn't intend to kill him anyway.  She looked livid.  Torn between screaming and tears.  He suddenly felt guilty for leaving like he had.  Not that he'd had much of a choice in the matter.  He hadn't even had time to gather up his own belongings, let alone say goodbye to anyone.  But looking at the situation he had left Michelle in . . . it was hard to imagine what she'd gone through.

After another hug, another head ringing slap, and yet another hug, Arath looked for appropriate words.  "I ... it's a long story.  Let's just say I tried to cut the wrong purse.  I had the choice between dying in an alley, or being taken elsewhere to learn to- ... to learn some special skills.  I didn't mean to leave you without a word."  Another slap though this one wasn't quite as hard.  Maybe his face was just numb.  "I've always wondered what happened with you.  I never thought you'd be ... here."

Arath rolled his eyes in mock exasperation.  "Burn me Covai, did you forget how to listen to people?  I said I made it.  You can check for residues in my basement if you want.  I was channeling nearly the whole day.  Couldn't hardly drag myself from bed this morning."

When Covai couldn't seem to say anything, Arath continued his explanation.  "I found an angreal in the cache.  Not a very powerful one at all.  And it was way too big to carry around.  A big bronze statue that had to have weighed more than me.  I was able to examine it though.  I thought I could see just how it worked, and that maybe I could duplicate it."

He scrubbed a hand through his hair, then continued.  "I'm not quite sure what went wrong.  I had trouble aligning the matrices in the silver when I formed the conduit, so that could be the problem.  The metal couldn't handle it, or I'm just not skilled enough to do it.  Yet.  But I was also concerned about the buffer being too weak.  You remember that angreal that Isha got ahold of when he attacked Aginor?  I didn't want that to happen again, so I might have ... over done it.  Too much buffer, so it actually lessens the amount of the power you can draw.  I think that the more likely, considering the ... side effect."

Arath didn't care much for recruiting duty.  Especially in Caemlyn.  The Asha'man weren't particularly welcome here, and things could become dangerous for anyone they were caught talking to.  Burn Brent and his bloody recruiting assignment, thought Arath in a sullen mood.  At least with his rank he could make others do all of the actual work while he waited comfortably in an inn.  Which is exactly what he intended to do.

Picking an inn at random from a poorer part of the city, Arath walked inside, enjoying the reprieve from the rain.  Another bad thing about cities.  Unless you wanted to flaunt what you were, you had to put up with getting wet in the rain.  Choosing a table in a far corner of the mostly deserted common room, Arath took a seat.  Reaching into a pocket he pulled out a small thing he had stolen from the Stone of Tear.  As far as he could tell it wasn't a ter'angreal, nor did it have anything to do with the power.  But the puzzle cube was a challenge that he couldn't resist.  Maybe he might be able to solve the thing now that he had a little time.

He was deep into his frustrations when the serving girl game by with a mug of ale.  “Hi there!  What can I get for you?” He glanced up, meaning to ask what they had in the kitchen, but stopped when he saw her familiar face.  She blinked in surprise as well before she all but shouted his name.

"Michelle?" he asked vaguely, disbelieving.  "What are you ... Why ... Hi," he stumbled.  Where did you start with someone you hadn't seen for nearly two years?