Arath tried not to grind his teeth as Kami whined about the black coat.  He briefly considered sealing the man's mouth shut with an air flow, but decided that it probably wouldn't be a good idea in the long run.  It would just add to the complaints later.

None too soon for Arath, they reached the Attack Leaders house and entered his office.  As he rummaged through the uniform closet, looking for the roughest wool coat he could find, he answered some of the unceasing questions.  "No, you can't make your own uniform.  This is an army, not a Cairhienen fashion show.  And yes, you are expected to wear it at all times."  At last, pulling a coat out of the closet he tossed it to Kami.  "You'll get another one as soon as we're able."

"You know, I don't really care for Cairhienen fashion anyway." He caught the coat and lifted it up. "I can sew better than this," he muttered, though in truth it was fine. He just wanted to complain hoping that he wouldn't really have to wear it. For that matter, he just folded it over his arm.

His thoughts wandering, and deciding not too spend too much time talking of what he had to wear, Kami asked, "My cousin can stay here too right? Since there are families here?"

Arath paused for a moment, then nodded.  "As long as she is willing to help out around the Farm, there shouldn't be a problem." 

"I don't see why not. Now where are we going?"

"WE aren't going anywhere.  I am going to stay here and enter you into the books, and YOU are going to situate yourself in the barracks at the north end of the Farm.  There will be four long buildings side by side.  Go to the one furthest east and ask someone to show you to a bunk."  He paused for a moment.  "But change into your uniform first," he said, pointing to a door across the hall.  "The Asha'man are instructed to put down anyone showing signs of madness, and I don't want them getting the wrong idea with you."

"Paw! This whole place doesn't make sense." He did seem to get a bit nervous though. Kami looked down at the coat, pouted again and looked up. "Okay, fine. I will see you later then.  By the way... are you going to be one of my teachers?"

Not if I can help it, thought Arath.  But keeping his face neutral he said, "I oversee almost all of the training here.  I'll probably teach you at some point, but there will be several Asha'man training you."

Kami nodded slowly and felt the fabric of the coat. He seemed to be thinking rather hard right then. "I guess I'm on my own, then," he said softly. He looked up at Arath with a wary look before curtsying to him in his own dismissal.

Arath watched as Kami left to change, shaking his head slightly.  Sitting at his desk he dropped his head down into his hands and sighed.  "Just when I thought I'd seen it all," he whispered to himself.

Wow.  I think unless someone top cookies, my wife is sold on the idea.  And bad things happen when I go against the wifey.

Brownies anyone?

Hmmm . . . so far the reasons are:

1.  I can use a sword.

2.  I'm evil and crazy.

3.  I'm a Tairen.

I was looking more for stuff like "I would like to study ter'angreal", or "I am willing to dig through huge filthy piles of junk" . . . but at least you were all honest!  :-\

If anyone would like to submit another answer (maybe less scary or more relevant to the RP) I'd be willing to wait another few days.

/end sarcasm

Alrighty then.  Everyone's got something going for them.  Really, an Attack Leader isn't going to need a bodyguard in a fortress controlled by the Dragon Reborn, but Martyn's involvement can be an alternative to channeling until his block is broken.  Geirrin is Dedicated, so could use the outside experience.  Ze'el . . . hmmm . . . frankly, I'm just curious as to what he'd do with a shot at crazy toys :D

So, I need reasons why you deserve the trip over everyone else!  Be vicious!Tell me why you are the greatest and most deserving!  And tell me why the others are incompetent ninnies!

I might take all three of you anyway, but this is fun too.  ;D

Start a new one.  It'll be easier to keep track of if you start clean.

Arath watched his class dismiss, the soldiers mostly in high spirits, the dedicateds with looks of disgust for the extra running they were required to do.  As the students all filtered away for their various destinations, Arath caught the eye of one of the soldiers, Martyn Stonebridge, and motioned him over to where the Attack Leader stood.

"We need to speak," Arath said simply and quietly, and with that turned around and began the short walk back to his own house.  He never bothered to look and see if the soldier was following him, but he knew that he was.  Martyn was a good soldier from all he could see, but wasn't yet amounting to much as a Soldier.  Something would have to be done about this.

As they reached the front door of the Attack Leader's spacious home, Arath unraveled the ward that sealed his front door against intruders.  Pushing the door open he walked down the hallway to his office, and motioning Martyn inside.  "Have a seat," he said, taking his own padded chair behind his desk.  "You probably know why you're here."  He waited a moment, and when Martyn didn't respond he continued.  "I never once saw you channeling today.  I wasn't particularly looking for it earlier, but while I observed the last part of the lesson I noticed.  What's the problem soldier?  As I recall, you came to us to learn how to channel?"

OOC: Probably gonna be a lot of dialogue in this one.  Short posts and responses are fine.

Gah . . . how do I keep losing this thread completely?  Sorry about the wait all.

IC:  Arath watched the class with amusement from his hidden vantage point.  The dedicated had worked well while he watched them, but the moment he had 'vanished' they had fallen apart.  None of them even tried to lead, leaving the soldiers to do most of the work.  It seemed they mostly felt themselves as supervisors in the absence of a real Asha'man.  None of them would be raised any time soon.  One soldier also seemed to be avoiding work, but he also seemed to try to avoid all notice.  Martyn Stonebridge he believed the name was.  Arath would have to talk with him later as well.

A few of the soldiers showed initiative, however odd their methods.  Flipping the logs end over end was definitely a unique approach, but surely not the easiest.  It accomplished the goal however, no matter how many eyes the tumbling log drew around the farm.

As the weary channelers dragged the last log the last few paces to rest next to its fellows, Arath released his light bending weave and slipped off the roof of the soldier barracks.  "An odd way to accomplish the task, to be sure, but well done.  Soldiers, you are free to go to the inn for a decent meal.  You've earned it.  Dedicateds," he paused with a smirk on his face, "get running.  A full hour, then you cook your own food."

OOC:  Sorry about this class guys.  Post any final responses and we'll just consider it done.

[glow=red,2,300]BONK![/glow]

Stamped and approved. You have some short posts, but with three extra RP's where you're already written in as a Soldier, I'll allow it.

And I'll pop into a current RP to hand you a shiny new pin.

There's a strong Asha'man presence in Tear actually, since that's where everyone goes for the amnesty.  They can just start getting used to the fact :)  And as far as I can remember, the 'illegal to channel here' law was repealed the day that the Stone fell.

But oh well.  Maybe something in there can zap the hell out of Martyn and crack his block :D

Yes, your arrival thread counts as a free RP.

That's right, I am in need of an assitant for a little expedition outside of the Farm.  More specifically, to the Stone of Tear.  More specifically, to the ter'angreal cache.  This was an RP approved for me many many moons ago to start up my create ter'angreal talent, but I never got around to it.

Basically what will happen is that we travel to the stone, dig through the junk in the basement trying to find something easy to duplicate, and study it for a while.  There can be fun mishaps with ter'angreal that misfire or something, just to keep the dull studying interesting.

So, I will need 1 asistant (2 if you can give me a REALLY good reason).  If you're interested, post below and explain why I should pick you over everyone else.

Edit: For advancement purposes, this may be used as either a Saidin Training RP, or a Free RP.

Arath chewed thoughfully on his bottom lip for a moment, then siezed Saidin.  A flow of air opened the closet to the right, and pulled out a black coat, approximately Kassian's size.  With a flick he tossed it to the newest soldier of the Black Tower.  Something still didn't feel right about the man, but there was nothing that Arath could put his finger on.  Briefly he wondered if the taint was beginning to affect him, making him so suspicious of new recruits lately.  But he quickly dismissed the idea.  Ever since he had discovered a dreadlord amongst his own trainee's he had been on edge.

Still, it never hurt to be watchfull, and Kassian made him uneasy.

"This is your uniform, Soldier.  You'll get the collar pins when you advance ranks.  Silver sword pin for Dedicated, gold Dragon pin for Asha'man.  If you survive that long.  We push you hard, beyond your limits.  All your chores are done with Saidin, and you're expected to learn how to defend yourself without the power." A stern look let him know that 'shaking hands' were no excuse.  "Unless you have any questions for me, you can go get something to eat at the inn and claim a bed in the barracks."  Arath closed the role book and cleaned the nib of his pen while he waited for Kassian to say something.

Arath pondered Kassian's words for a while.  It seemed the boy would have made an excellent Whitecloak, what with his devotion to serving the Light.  While it could be useful if channeled in the right direction, Arath had never been very fond of fanatics.  But if the man's story was true, he at least shared one thing in common with Arath.

"When I was five years old, I was tortured, and I watched my mother die at the hands of darkfriends." Arath unconsciously rubbed the dragon fang scar over his heart, his eternal reminder of that evil day.  "When I was sixteen, a few months before I came here, I killed my father.  He attacked me and in self defense I touched Saidin for the first time.  I know all too well what it feels like.  So I find it curious that you say you have a debt to the world, and the creator.  The world has done nothing but take from you, and the Creator has only given you Saidin, a curse which WILL kill you.  Doing good is difficult with madness ready to creep up on you at any moment."  All the while that he talked, Arath tried to catch Kassian's eye.  The young man had a maddening habit of avoiding eye contact.

"But if that's what you really want, there is a place for you here.  You will need to set your own agenda aside though.  Your life will belong to the Lord Dragon.  His weapon to do as he wills.  Can you handle that?"

Arath listened to the new recruit speak, frowning slightly at the story.  His shaky hands stopped when he sewed dresses?  That sounded . . . wrong.  Awfully convenient at the least.  Arath had a suspicion that the 'shaky hands' business had started up about the same time that joining the Whitecloaks had become a serious concern.

"Well, dresses aren't in very high demand around here," he stated with a grimace.  "Some women are crazy enough to follow their men here, but they are few and far between.  Fortunately, you don't need to pay your way around here.  We take Ebou Dari beggars and Tairen High Lords the same.

"All of your needs will be met by the Tower.  After today you will prepare all of your own meals with the power, or go hungry.  You'll have a room in the soldier barracks at the north end of the Farm.  You can head over there after we're done here and another Soldier will get you situated."

Arath paused for a moment, still studying Kassian.  "So.  What is it that you want from us?  What do you want from the Black Tower?"

Arath smiled.  Usually the new soldiers were too intimidated to ask so many questions.  It was refreshing to process someone a little different than he was used to.

"You'll be assigned to barracks number four, at the north end of the compound.  Four and a half long buildings there, you can't miss them.  Talk to the soldiers there and they'll help you get situated.  As far as food goes, you can get your last decent meal at the inn, just down the road from here.  Make sure you eat before you start your lessons because you will be preparing your own meals with Saidin until you reach Dedicated rank.  Your food is provided for you, but you get to cook it with the One Power.

"And no, you don't have to pay for training here.  At least not with coin.  From this moment on you are a soldier for the Lord Dragon.  You belong to the Black Tower until Tarmon Gaidon is won, and maybe beyond.  A high cost, but fair considering what we will make of you."  Arath eyed Geirrin for a moment to make sure that he understood.  "We ask for everything and only promise madness and death, but along with it a chance to spit in the Dark One's eye and give the world a chance at the last battle."

There was silence for a moment as Arath let the message sink in.  Then abruptly he clapped his hands and continued.  "Well then, let me explain a few things to you."

The next few minutes were filled with the dry, boring, but necessary information that made life flow as smoothly as possible at the farm; the divisions of rank, the priveleges and responsibilities that accompanied them, the basic rules ... all those things that people end up figuring out for themselves anyway.

After the basic explanations were done, the Attack Leader asked, "So, do you have any more questions before I turn you loose?"

Arath nodded while he listened to Geirrin.  He had no idea why he was here other than the fact that he was able to channel.  Just like every other soldier.  He didn't expect anything else really, but sometimes there were surprising answers.

"Alright.  Your first lessons will be later this afternoon.  You'll have a little bit of free time until then to acquaint yourself with the grounds.  I just need to explain a few things before you can get started.  But first, what questions do you have for me?  What do you want to know?"

Daevis, my second Asha'man, is Shienaran . . . but I've never actually used him in an RP, so I guess he doesn't count.

Arath nodded as he led Kassian to his office.  "I'm Attack Leader Faringal, the officer in charge of your training here at the Farm.  I will oversee your training and make sure you don't kill yourself.  I may not personally see to your training but I keep a close eye on you.

"Amadacia huh?  I don't believe we have any soldiers from there.  None that are still with us anyway.  I imagine that the Whitecloaks stiffle any rumors of the amnesty the moment they spring up."  That might explain why he seems so nervous too, he thought. 

Arath pushed open his office door with a flow of air and motioned the new recruit through.  Settling himself behind his desk he rummaged around for his pen to add Kassian Loreen to the role book.  "So what did you do before you came here?  Any military background?  And what kind of useful skills do you posess?"

This time, Arath couldn't keep the smirk off of his face at hearing all the 'yes sir's coming out of the man.  He was either used to demanding authority figures or nervous as hell.

"I am Attack Leader Arath Faringal.  I'm the one in charge of overseeing your training and making sure you don't do something stupid.  But you can relax with the sirs.  You're probably older than me and I don't like it.

As he spoke, Arath used a flow of air to open the large closet on the side wall and began to rummage through black coats.  "Alright then, I just have a few questions for you and we'll get you settled in.  First and foremost, have you already channeled, or were you just told you can?  What particular skills do you have?  And do you have any military or weapon training?"  Finding a suitable looking coat, he sent it flying toward the new soldier who caught it warily.  "And what do you want from the Black Tower?"

Arath leaned against the wall outside his home, enjoying a rare moment to himself.  He would have to go teach another class soon enough, and he needed a moment to unwind from the already tiresome day.  He couldn't remember being so . . . wool headed . . . as a new soldier.  Not that that had been so long ago, but it still seemed an age. 

From the shade of the wall Arath had a clear view of the traveling grounds.  There was a fairly constant flow of traffic through the area, from recruiting parties going out, to supply wagons coming in.  Soon enough the recruiting parties would be coming back and he would spend an afternoon sorting through new Soldiers and making sure they were situated.  But for now, he had a few minutes on his -

A small group emerging from a new gateway caused him to grimace.  A plain clothed man followed behind one of the Asha'man, looking startled by the gateway and crouching even though the top of the gateway easily cleared his head.  A common first reaction to Traveling.  Arath suppressed a sigh as they immediately started toward him.  So much for his free time.

Straightening up, Arath watched as the pair approached.  "Sir," said the Asha'man, saluting fist to heart, "This the first one of the day?"

Arath nodded.  "I'll take it from here."  Motioning the new man to follow, Arath walked inside.  "What is your name soldier?  Where are you from?"

Hmmmm . . . tough block to crack.  So either he's not channeling until the cleansing of the taint, or we need to launch an aggressive 'Channeling is Fun!' campaign . . .

Damn . . . that's a high strength score.

Lucky  :P

I've been meaning to ask this for a while Jehaine.  So before it slips my mind again: What exactly IS that block?  Even if we don't know IC, it helps to have an idea OOC.

DM Handle: Talavin

Character Count: This would be number 1 (in this division)

Character Name: Kassian "Ze'el" Loreen

Age: 21

Place of Birth/Raising: Amadicia (specifically village near Amador)

Physical Appearance: Dark black hair, and brown eyes. He's not particularly tall, but not short- standing at 5'10. His body is lightly muscled, but not anything impressive, and he has shaky hands.

NOTE: This character has Antisocial Personality Disorder (better known as being a Sociopath) to understand this bio you need to know more information about an Antisocial, else my character will look Mary Sue. Antisocials are best known for their lack of guilt and manipulative behavior. They are the people that push their little brother down the stairs and don't feel a thing. However, they are also diagnosed to be very intelligent and manipulative. The difference between Antisocials and other 'crazies' is that Antisocials know that what they do is horrible and wrong, but they just don't care.  They are very crafty and often charming and charismatic, as well as 'fearless' and do not have close relationships with anyone. This is, of course, not extremely specific, but I'm writing a Biography, not a paper on Antisocial Personality Disorder.

NOTE 2: I know that this bio looks like it should be submitted to CotS, but Kassian isn't actually a Darkfriend, he hasn't sworn anything to the Dark One. He may be pretty evil, but he's technically not a Darkfriend.

History:

Kassian had grown up being told of the Light, and exactly what right and wrong things were. His parents were humble followers of the light, always preaching right and wrong to their son. His father was a dress maker, and a good one at that. He would always give discounts to any Child of the Light who wanted to buy a dress from the famous dress maker, sometimes even half what the dress was worth. Whenever Kassian would curiously inquire why he would give away so much money (for Children often bought his dresses) his father would say the same thing.

"The Children are Good and it's the Right thing to do."

Kassian would nod and say nothing more, but never did he truly understand.

When he was seven, his parents told him of their intentions to make him join the Children. Of course, they phrased it that it was a gift to him, giving him a chance to serve the Light with everything he had. The next day he developed shaky hands(1). His father despaired, for when the Child arrived, he confirmed that there was no way a man with shaky hands could ever wield a sword. Kassian's father was desperate though, he offered his son as even a stable hand. Kassian still remembered what that Child said.

"There's no need. You should not despair, rejoice- for surely the Creator must have some other use for your son."

Life went on, however, and Kassian basked in his success. His hands did not stop shaking though, for the day his hands stilled his father would send him into the capital to be trained. Unfortunately, his hands caused unwanted attention from older boys. They made fun of him, called him Shaky, said that he was useless. He could never take up his father's trade, and no one else would want Shaky to be their apprentice. For years the abuse continued until Kassian got tired of it, and the ring-leader of the bullies found himself down a well, his head busted open from the impact with the bottom.

The only person who could possibly have the means and the motivation to do the deed was Kassian, but no one could see the sweet, courteous, meek little boy doing such a thing. And so, the murder was passed off as a horrible accident. For years Kassian was called Shaky, but he knew he wasn't Shaky. The problem was that he didn't know who he was- he certainly wasn't Kassian, the meek, pathetic little boy. As he stood there, staring down at the bloody remains of his former bully, he gave himself a new name: Ze'el.

Ze'el was the name of a monster his mother told him about(2). It was a creature of darkness who hid his true form and ate disobedient children who didn't listen to their parents. Of course, he didn't believe the tale, but he liked the name- for he was also a monster who hid his true form. In the darkness of his mind, Ze'el would forever more refer to himself using his true name.

When he was thirteen, Ze'el's father began to teach him the art of dress making, hoping that he could at least be decent. Years after, people wondered how the boy with shaky hands could possibly make such beautiful dresses, with such beautiful embroidery. 'Kassian' merely said that it was a gift from the Creator, that his hands could only make beauty. He told people that it was the reason why he could not become a warrior. He said that he could never take life from the earth, only create. His father was so proud, but more importantly, no one ever doubted that he was a creature of the Light.

For eight years, time continued, the Wheel weaving out the same boring routine, day after day. It was not until Kassian's mother (for Ze'el had no parents) returned home one day that things changed. She walked into her house, only to find her son standing over her dead husband. At first, she could not believe the sight in front of her, but her son held a bloody knife and her husband had a knife wound in his chest.

"Oh, hello mother, you have perfect timing!"

Shocked, all the woman could say was: "W-why?"

A pitying smile appeared on Ze'el's face. "Well, you see, I've grown so bored- living this life that is."

"B-but, he was your father!" If the words fazed her son at all, he didn't show it.

"Oh yes, and that made it all the better. The looks on his face, they were so… delicious. First confusion, then surprise, then betrayal, then anger, and finally… when he finally realized that he was going to die, he was so full of fear. Are you afraid, knowing that you are going to die?"

She shook her head, trying to deny that this was her son in front of her. "You-you'll never get away with this!"

A booming laugh was her only answer. "Of course I will." His face twisted into a despairing, terribly sad face. "I-I walked into my house, and found the Dark Friend, standing over my mother. H-he told me how he had killed my father, and then finally my mother, before he burned my house to the ground. He was clearly insane, a monster of a man." Suddenly his face transformed into a determined face, though still baring the traces of sorrow. "No! No I cannot accept your offers of housing, I know my purpose now. I do not hate my parents' murderer, but pity him, for the he has forsaken the Light, and forsaken salvation. I must spread the Light, to all places! I cannot let another man suffer in the shadow of the Dark One."

His features returning to their natural calmness, Ze'el continued. "I hear that there are many exciting things outside this village. I hear there are even men in black coats who serve the Dragon and channel the One Power- perhaps I will join them." Ze'el had been calmly pacing in front of his mother, but then suddenly snapped around to face her. "You know, of all the emotions I made my late father feel… I loved his fear the most. So, tell me mother, are you afraid?"

She did not have to answer, the terror on her face said it all. However, desperately she tried one last time to save herself.

"Please, Kassian, I love you, don't do this!"

"My name… is Ze'el."

(1)Just incase you didn't pick it up, Ze'el fakes his shaky hands

(2)I made that story, it's just a story that Ze'el's mother made up, no one else would know the significance of the name

Wow.  This is one distrubing bio. I'm posting it for CC anyway.

Light help us all . . .

DM Handle: JoarGerean

Email: jdhinnefeld@gmail.com

Character Count: 1

Character Name: Joar Gerean

Age: 21

Place of birth/raising: Jehannah in Gheldean

Physical Appearance: Joar is tall and more skinny than husky.  Not as strong as others but quicker than most, relying on speed rather than brute strength.  His hair is jet black which is kept closely cut and remains clean shaven on his face, which looks almost too young for a man of 21.

History:

            As a child Joar was a young boy of no exceptional talents or abilities.  He never really cared for work and was know as lazy.  By the time he was old enough that he should be working no artisan would apprentice him because of his work ethic. 

After turning 16 and his parents killed in a riot, he was recruited by the guards in the capitol, Jehannah, Joar was known as a womanizing drinker, and a heartless fighter.   His first experience after recruitment was with a fellow guard over a woman in a tavern, even though they were both drunk Joar was the one punished with 10 days in the gaol for the damage that was done to the tavern.  After release and another year drinking, fighting, and philandering, he was almost beaten to death by a group of guardsmen.  It took him a month to recover, but during the month he had plenty of time to think and decided that drinking was not worth the pain or even death of another beating. 

After he healed and had a meeting with the guard commander that nearly got him expelled, he was allowed to remain on probation.  Over the next few years he applied himself to his classes and though he gave up drinking, he never gave up women.  Over time he has developed into if not a skilled fighter, at least would not stab himself in the foot, and a fast runner (a requirement when one does not care about the ladies attachments. 

On his 18th name day he met a pretty lass by the name of Dorina.  Even knowing about Joar's "reputation" she seemed interested.  Over the course of the next few months, she insisted on hiding her relationship because she said her father would be furious and likely not care that he was a guardsman.  One night after a riot in the city, Dorina came running into the barracks and flew into the arms of Joar's Captain.  Joar was shocked, he knew the captain had a daughter but her name was supposed to be Helina, she had lied.  He also knew that the captain had been looking into his daughters new relationship and knowing the Captain and his personal dislike for Joar, the next day Joar was on the move.

The next three years saw Joar as a merchant guard north to Andor, west to Cairhien, and south again which landed him in Tear. During his travels he had heard about an amnesty for men who would want to learn to channel.  He had never been exceptional at anything maybe his life had been waiting for this opportunity.  Once in Tear he was in front on a short Cairhien Asha'man before the end of his first day.  He found the test odd, but he had seen several strange things, and a man channeling was stranger still.  The man smiled after a few minutes.  Questions flew through Joars mind, all unimportant save one, could he channel.  The man said he could and that Joar would have channeled anyway whether it was tomorrow or a year he would eventually wield the power but his chances of survival were greater in the Tower.  With that said Joar grabbed his bags and was walking through a gateway before the day was out.