Arath nodded thoughtfully as Martyn spoke.  "Understandable.  Well then, unless you have any questions for me you can get settled in.  Go get something to eat at the inn.  It may very well be the last decent meal you have for a while.  Then go north from there to the soldier barracks.  Five long buildings all standing in a row.  Farthest one on the right.  The soldiers there will get you settled and let you know where to go."

Arath hoped that Martyn would find what he was looking for at the Farm.  And that he might eventually be a little more forthcoming with his information.

OOC: That's it unless you wanna keep going with Q's.

Arath sat at his desk, idly passing his time with a blacksmith's puzzle.  It seemed like an age since he had actually made one of them, and the skill to solving them seemed to slowly be slipping away from him.  As he heard his door open he sighed and dumped the puzzle into the open drawer.  He would solve it later.  Apparently the latest group of recruits had arrived. 

As he heard the footsteps advance through the hallway, he siezed Saidin and pulled his office door open.  As he suspected, a newcomer stood wide eyed at the sight of the 'self-opening' door.  He fought to keep the smile off of his face.  For some reason, that one just never got old.

Arath motioned the overwhelmed looking man in and closed the door behind him.  "You're here for training?"  He didn't even wait for the confirming nod before he continued.  "Where are you from?  What's your name?"

Ack . . . I am the most horrible person at finishing RP threads.  Sorry about the delay all.

IC:  Arath let his last weaves die as the mannequins in front of him dissolved under a particularly nasty weave of fire and water that had penetrated the final dedicated's shield.  "Fair enough job I suppose," he said loudly.  "Though those of you whose defenses cracked under the soldier's assaults will be running laps for an hour once we're done.  But for now, everyone follow me. 

Arath set off at a brisk pace toward the woods.  They quickly reached the area that Arath had found beforehand for this last phase of the class.  A small area had been cleared of brush and smaller trees, leaving a half a dozen towering tree's in the center.  Walking over to lean against a tree, Arath addressed the class again.

"With the latest influx of recruits, we have need of yet another soldier barracks, and two more dedicated barracks.  Which means we need a lot of wood to build them.  Cutting down a tree like this isn't too hard."  Arath siezed the source and with a razor fine weave of fire and air sliced halfway through the nearest tree trunk.  "Moving it by yourself however . . . that's another story."  Motioning the class out of the way, Arath finished slicing through the tree.  As the tree began to fall, Arath summoned all of his strength in air and with the biggest weaves he could manage tried to ease the tree's descent.  The tree slowed slightly, but it was a negligible amount.

"The easiest way to transport this back to the Farm would be to cut it into pieces and take them back.  But we're not here to do it the easy way.  I'm going to push you as hard as I can to force your strength to grow.  So now you get to learn how to work together.  We can't link like the Aes Sedai can, but we can still combine our efforts.  So I want you to all work together and pick up this tree.  Take it to the clearing behind soldier barracks four.  Then come back and cut down another, and take it to the same place.  Keep at it until all six tree's are in the clearing.  Nobody gets dinner until you're done."

OOC: Not the most terribly interesting class after such a long delay, but it requires you to interact with each other.  Talk amongst yourselves and make it interesting.  Arath will supervise the first few trips, then wait in the clearing, leaving you to yourselves.

DM Handle: Sieve

Email: blade4hire@live.com

Character Count: (In this division) 1

Character Name: Geirrin Hale

Age: 25

Place of birth/raising: Small fishing village west of Godan (Tear)

Physical Appearance: Tall medium skinned with a thin muscular build. Short cropped dark hair with pointed beard and bright blue eyes.

History:

Geirrin Hale grew up in a poor fishing community where he lived with his family. Geirrin worked hard on the docks while the rest of his siblings worked the family's fishing vessel. Always a reckless and carefree child, by age 15 his father refused to allow him on the family fishing vessel after he nearly sunk it several times.

Geirrin was known for his foolish stunts and taking risks. He enjoyed sailing directly into stormy waters, or dangerously close to shore, or in water that he knew was far to shallow for the boat’s draft all for no reason other than for the fun of it. Several near and actual mishaps led to him finally being grounded ashore. He had a reputation in the community so none of the captains would hire him on fearing that he would find a way to destroy their ship or precious cargo. Therefore his only option was to work on the docks as a laborer hauling cargo on or off ships, mending nets or other menial tasks.

Most of the coin he made at the docks went to his father to pay for the repairs that he had been responsible for over the years. The rest of his coin helped feed the family so he had nothing left to spare.

One day an Illianer coastal trading ship on it’s way from Godan to Tear put into their port after half the crew became violently ill. So desperate was the Captain that the villagers warning to not hire Geirrin went unheeded. Geirrin, now 25 years of age, took his meager belongings, said goodbye to his friends and family and boarded the Illianer ship bound for Aringill with a hold full of oil and fish.

Aside from the occasional mishap, Geirrin proved the naysayers wrong. He worked hard hauling the lines, shortening, or letting out the sails, mending canvas or whatever tasks needed doing. When not fooling around he was a very hard worker. The Captain was obviously pleased that the rumors had proven false as he paid Geirrin an extra silver mark when they put into port in Aringill.

Geirrin tucked the coins away and grabbed up his belongings before heading to the nearest tavern. Most of the crew were in there drowning their sorrows in either a mug or the bosom of one of the tavern maids. Geirrin looked around the smoke filled tavern as he took a long pull from his mug. In the corner of the tavern he saw two men in black coats sitting at a table facing him. On the opposite end of the table, with his back to Geirrin, was one of the crew members.

Ever the curious one, Geirrin questioned the crewman when he returned. The man replied that they were talking about wielding lightning or some such though he apparently was not able to do so.

Curiousity won out and before he new it he was before the two black coated men staring at a small flame between them. They told him to focus on the flame until he was told to stop. After roughly a quarter of an hour passed, one of the men commanded him to stop. Geirrin just stared at him with the unspoken question formed on the tip of his tongue. The man testing him nodded briefly then smiled at him. The black coated man told him that he could learn if he wished but warned that it would be tough going, certainly not something for the weak of will or mind.

Geirrin responded that he had nothing better to do, that wielding lightning sounded better than physical labor that he was so used to. Several other tried but none in the tavern seemed to have the ability. In the morning he was off to a place they called "The Farm".

Checking it right now.  As soon as I find a book and figure out where Godan is . . .

I'm gonna poke my nose in at some point since Arath is in charge of overall training.  Words of encouragement or mockery . . . something like that. :)

Arath frowned slightly at the short response he recieved.  He felt like Martyn was holding something back, but it was impossible to put his finger on the problem.  Had he accidently killed someone with the Power?  Been hunted down because someone had figured out what he could do?  And how had he heard about the amnesty in the Black Hills?  In a stedding no less?  Arath had only been in a stedding once, but the experience had unnerved him severely.  Something didn't add up, but since that was too often the case with men who came seeking the Black Tower, Arath let it slide.  For now.

"None?  Never a farmer or carpenter?  Oh well.  Army experience counts as a good skill for us.  In case you didn't notice, we are the Lord Dragon's army.  Unfortunately, most of the Soldiers and a good number of the Dedicated's can't handle a sheathed sword without stabbing themselves in the foot.  If you were training the militia in Kore Springs you might find yourself teaching the sword here."  That would be more than helpful.  Too many of the recruits spurned martial training in favor of Saidin. 

"We can spar later to test your abilities.  If you're up to it that is.  If not, your first class with Saidin will be this afternoon.  A soldier will be assigned to help get you settled in at Soldier Barracks Four and explain how things work around here.  I have one last question for you though.  What do you want from the Black Tower?  What do you think to gain from us?"

OOC: Feel free to ask any of your own questions too.  Anything that Martyn is just dying to know.

I think it would be really cool to capture some Reds like in the books. You know the Reds send some sisters to oust us and we take them by surprise! Then we can get to know our captives and let those who want form RP Bonds that way!?

Ummm . . . that already happened.  It was called the Watchers RP.  The group of sisters (13 of 'em) were captured/bonded and held until a Grey came and negotiated their release.  We never actually got around to the RP where they were released (mostly because everyone involved in the RP went AWOL on us), but we assume that their bonds were released and they were all sent back to Tar Valon.

Anywho, I would like to take another shot at the bonding thing.  It was fun while it worked.  Maybe this time make it an equal thing.  X amount of Sisters bonded by Asha'man and X amount of Asha'man bonded by Aes Sedai.  I assume this would be like the end of KoD where the Red's approach Taim wanting to bond Asha'man?

Arath finally found a suitable looking coat and tossed it to Martyn.  "That is your uniform," he said.  "You are to wear it at all times.  You'll get another as soon as we can manage."

Returning to his desk, Arath resumed his questions.  "So what did you do before you came here?  The Farm is turning into a small city, and we can use the skills of everyone here.  What kind of skills do you have to offer?"

Hmmm . . . Aslan is supposed to be with the Band though so I can't blame you for that.

Come to think of it, Daevis is supposed to be there too, but I've never done anything with him.  Oops.

And I always think of Aslan more as a Druid anyway. :P

Covai!

*Does the happy dance*

Great to see you back.  It was rather lonely having the only full ranked PC Asha'man.  That was a lot of training to do.  :P

Huh . . . well this is interesting.

I don't have a warder character, but my Asha'man is named Arath ... would be an interesting encounter if they ever met.

Come to think of it, I don't think there are any other doubled names at DM ... we're special!

Ack . . . sorry I forgot about this. :'(

IC:  Arath nodded as the man introduced himself.  "I am Attack Leader Faringal," he said as he led the way to his study.  "I am in charge of training here at the Black Tower.

"Kore Springs you say?  And you just came from Tear?"  He chuckled.  "Must be a shock to find youself back in Andor after such a journey."  He settled himself behind his desk and pulled out the log book.  Martyn was left standing as he was quickly added to the registry of the Black Tower.  Arath subtly observed his guest, as he did most new recruits.  He appeared to be in his mid 30's and carried himself like a long time soldier.  As always, Arath wondered what the older recruit thought of him.  He could still remember how he felt the day he had stood in Martyn's place.  Terrified, curious, and overwhelmingly nervous. 

Walking over to the large closet on the side wall, Arath began rummaging through the black coats, looking for a suitable one.  "Once you walk out that door, you are a Soldier of the Black Tower, a weapon of the Dragon Reborn.  But first, I have a few questions for you.  How long have you been channeling?  You came to us, so I assume you've already channeled?  How did you find out?"

Sorry this took so long to get back too.  I'll make it fun for you. :)

IC:  Arath walked around observing the class while the Dedicated taught, taking special note of those who had a lot of trouble, and those that learned exceptionally quick.  One or two seemed to have a block, and another had a bar making any weaves beyond ten paces falter.  Something would have to be done about them.

Returning to his place at the front of the class as the last explosions died away, Arath addressed them again.  "Soldiers, good work for the most part.  Now you will observe while I instruct the Dedicated."  He gestured to the side where they were to wait and watch.  "Dedicated, by this point you are reasonably good at destruction and offensive weaves.  But that is only the half of what you do.  Defensive weaves are equally important, and often are neglected by other instructers.  I've seen you weave basic air shields to protect you from things you've blown up, but can you shield yourself from a full attack?

"You!" he said, pointing to a suddenly startled Dedicated.  "Protect that," he pointed to a charred and much abused tree stump a short distance away.  The Dedicated frowned for a moment, then wove a quick shield of air, laced through with fire and a touch of earth.  Arath almost sneered as he siezed Saidin and quickly wove air, fire and spirit around a hair thin weaving of earth and water.  A powerful bolt of lightning streaked down out of the sky and smashed through the weak shield, snapping the weaves back to the surprised man, shattering the stump, and causing wood fragments to shower down on the class. 

"Not very good.  If that stump had been a fellow Asha'man he would have just died for your failure.  All of you have the responsibilty to defend your brothers, as well as destroy the Lord Dragon's enemies.  So, I want all of you to raise a handfull of earth manaquins and defend them from whatever I throw at them.  I will NOT hold back, and I will exploit any flaws or weaknesses I see.  Anyone who fails to protect their 'army' will then have to defend themselves instead.  The soldiers will be allowed to practice some of the weaves that you have just taught them against you."  He allowed himself a small hint of a smile as some of their faces drained of color.  They would try harder now.

OOC: See, isn't this fun?  Dedicateds, feel free to describe the horrific things I attack your 'army' with.  I assume that all of you will pass, but if you want to fail to make things interesting feel free.  Soldiers get to attack the 3-4 NPC dedicateds who fail, but not injure them.  You won't get through their defenses.

There will be one more part of the class for everyone when this is over.  Have fun with it!  ;D

DM Handle:  Segurant

Email: segurant@gmail.com

Character Count: (In this division) 1

Character Name: Tsingtao Ming

Age:  17

Place of birth/raising:  Mayene

Physical Appearance:  Standing 5'10" tall, Tsingtao is a muscular fellow weighing about 200 lbs. He has hair as black as night with dark green eyes.  He has shoulder length hair which is usually in a pony tail.

History:

Tsingtao Ming grew up on a farm in Mayene.  His family worked for Lord Rogaine of House Monoxidel, tending his land and livestock.  Like most of the boys and girls growing upon the farm, he would wake up early for his morning chores, head to school, and return for his evening chores.  After supper he would join the other boys in the field pretending to be soldiers fighting off the invading soldiers from Tear. 

At age 12 he was selected by the local brewer as an apprentice.  Tsingtao was very grateful to get away from the farm.  He started his training learning to line caskets and barrels, filling them with ale and wine, and storing them in cellars.  Soon after he would learn to mix simple brews and gather the necessary ingredients.  He would spend days loading up carts and delivering the brew to taverns in the area.  He spent 3 years learning the brewery trade.  The next year, like all able boys, Tsingtao went through some basic military training as well as continuing his brewery apprenticeship.  Of course, going in and out of taverns, Tsingtao managed to met his fair share of tavern maids.  He fancied one in particular.

At age 17, Tsingtao's life was forever changed.  He met a young bar maid named Mei at the Spring of the Morning Inn.  Every evening he would finish is training and lessons and head to the Inn, talking and flirting with Mei.  They became quite close.  They would talk about their future together, brewing ale and selling them to local areas, maybe even traveling to other parts of the world to sell their brew.  One evening they were in the Inn's stables talking about their future.  He leaned over to kiss her for the first time.  She welcomed his kiss.  The emotions that Tsingtao was feeling were none that he felt before.  He felt the heat of passion as they embraced, or was it something else?  Something did not feel right.  He opened his eyes and saw Mei standing there in horror.  He looked past her and saw the stables were on fire. 

He quickly sent Mei back to the Inn to get help as he grabbed a blanket.  He rushed to the fire and tried to beat it out.  He wished for rain or a gush of wind to help blow out this fire.  Not sure what happened next, a strong wind came from no where, but it did not stop the flame.  The wind gave the fire more life as it rushed up towards the hayloft.  Mei returned with help as they ran out of the stables.  Mei stopped to release the horses from their stall.  Tsingtao ran back to help but the fire came between the two.  He tried desperately to reach Mei but the flames roared higher and hotter.  A horse leaped through the flames knocking Tsingtao onto his back.  He tried to get on his feet as two massive arms grabbed him from behind.  He heard Mei scream through the fire.  He shouted her name as he tried to free himself and reach her once more, but he was restrained by several patrons.

No one knew what started the fire.  Strange things started to happen when he thought of that fatal night.  He soon carried flasks of water to dose the small flames that would appear.   Did he start the fire?  Was he responsible for Mei's death?  Is he a channeler like those men he heard about?  Not wanting to be in the area anymore, Tsingtao felt he needed to seek out these men, the ones able channel some sort of power.  He had to know if it was in him.  He packed what he could and sold the rest. He used all the coins he possessed and bought passage to Tear.  Once there he would try to seek out these men.

DM Handle: Arath Faringal

Primary BT Character Name: Arath Faringal

Additional BT Character Name: Daevis Thelandran

Rank: Attack Leader (Arath)

      Asha'man (Daevis)

OP Scores: (Arath) F-7 E-7 A-5 W-5 S-8  Skill-32  

           (Daevis)F-9 E-8 A-5 W-4 S-8  Skill-25

Weapon Scores: 9 (7)

And FYI to everyone, WS here are pretty standardized.  Asha'man have up to 7, Dedicateds 3-5, Soldiers 1, with few exceptions (like Jehaine).  Ranks higher than Asha'man (Attack/Storm leaders or people who have been such) can have higher scores with approval.

Long story short, all Soldiers have a 1.  Dedicateds have a 5.  Asha'man have a 7.  Unless specifically told otherwise.

Yeah . . . whipping boy sounds about right.  Jocelyn was pretty handy with a whip . . .

Come to think of it, I redesigned our Bonus Strength Point system too.  And we still haven't given out a point.  :(  I think I've earned one, but the DL vanished and I could never talk to her about it.

And good news on the computer front.  I managed to steal back my laptop from my mother (she kidnapped it from me so she could do 'school work' while I was out of the country, and I just got it back), so I have a computer again!  Bad news, I still don't have internet at home.  But now that the bigger problem is fixed, I can worry about that.

As ADL I'm basically the BT Bio-checker, and until my hard drive crapped out I assigned OP scores.  So yeah . . . whatever the DL doesn't want to do.

I gots a short list

Arath Faringal

Air-ath Fair-en-gal

Daevis Thelandran

Day-vis Thel-an-dren

Esyndor Renethil

Es-in-dor Ren-i-thil

Alrighty, I want to know who's here and what they're up to.

And for my own convenience, I want your OP scores.  Or the lack thereof.  If any of you still lack this, I want to know so I can fix it. 

So, here's your format:

Arath Faringal

Attack Leader

F-6  E-6  A-5  W-5  S-8

And then you put your funny comment down here.  So, speak up!  Shout it out!

And be quick about it . . . :)

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?"

In case anyone didn't notice, I've posted a class for all soldiers AND dedicateds who wish to join.  Soldiers will be learning basic weaves, and dedi's will be helping me to micromanage the class.  I will be a general supervisor for the class and keep things moving.

Everyone is allowed to join.  Have fun with it . . . please . . .

OOC:  This class is open to all the new soldier/dedicated peoples.  Even if you don't have an OP score yet.  Soldiers, assume that you've been taught how to sieze the source already.  You can do that RP later if you want to.

IC:  Arath watched the assorted members of the class file in after running their lap of the outside wall.  The six mile run was not easy, and even the seasoned dedicateds puffed hard afterward.  Some of the soldiers looked as though they were about to die on their feet.  With so many of the others out on assignments, Arath had been given a huge class of mixed ranks.

Siezing Saidin, fighting the molten ice and the sickening filth, he raised a man sized earthen manaquin from the ground.  "Dedicateds, raise training manaquins.  Soldiers, sieze the source."

A few minutes later, a small army of training dummies stood in rows and all stood awaiting orders.  "As you know, the Asha'man have not been around for nearly as long as the White Tower.  We don't know as much as them . . . supposedly.  We gain power from knowledge, and we gain knowledge from creativity.  I will show you basic ways to destroy things.  I want you to try to be creative, try to come up with new ways to do things.  We will guide you and try to prevent you from doing something stupid.

"Dedicateds, I want you to take a pair of soldiers and and show them basic attack weaves using only one element.  Soldiers,  I will be supervising, so don't disappoint me."

OOC:  Okay, dedicateds, take NPC soldiers to train if you want and show them basic weaves.  Soldiers, vice versa.  Basic weaves with different elements.  2 or 3 killing weaves.

I'm always available to teach a class.  I don't know of any other oldies who are active anyway . . .

I'm the lone Ashy . . .

My madness reigns supreme!

Another one for the mad house.  He's sort of old for a sparker, but I think it's acceptable.

http://home.versatel.nl/piccone/Chars/Dimilas.jpg

NOTE: Given that Tavon has given himself a false identity, his real data is listed between ( )

DM Handle: Jehaine

Email: amyante[at]hotmail[dot]com

Character Count: First BT char.

Character Name: Martyn Stonebridge (Tavon Zaralyn)

Age: 34 (84)

Apparent Age: 34

Place of birth/raising: Whitebridge, Andor (Jenaan, Malkier)

Physical Appearance:

Tavon stands at an even six feet, weighing roughly 165 pounds. True to the Malkieri fashion, he wears his dark brown hair to his shoulders, though he no longer holds it back with a hadori. He has dark brown eyes, matching his eye color. Much like his daughter, he has an angular face with a pointed chin, though in comparison his complexion is a bit darker compared to hers due to the time spent living in a Stedding.

Clothing wise, he has fully adopted Andoran fashion, and can more often than not be seen wearing a white shirt, a red coat and a simple pair of trousers without accessories. The rather simple cut of his clothing is deliberate, as he doesn't want to risk endangering his cover by adding a couple of typically Malkieri traits by accident.

History:

Tavon was born in Jenaan, Malkier, in 916 NE. With his home city being relatively near the Stairs of Jenaan, where the Trolloc hordes were fought back every year, it was effectively a large border fortress. With this in mind, it came as little to no surprise that the vast majority of the male population consisted of soldiers, with Tavon's father among them.

The young boy grew up while his mother taught him how to read and write, and his father taught him the sword as he shaped his son into a fine soldier. This was considered normal everyday life in Jenaan, and even though there were some in the city that didn't fight they too were still necessary to keep the place running. One day however, rather than choose his fate, fate ended up choosing him.

Masura Kurenin was a childhood friend of his, from a neighbouring family. Still, even though they were pretty close friends it was still somewhat of a shock one day to hear her ask him to become her carneira. Taken completely off guard, he took an involuntary step back, nearly dropping the training sword he was going through his forms with. Despite her blush, he still managed to recognise the trademark look on her face when her temper threatened to flare, and raised a hand in protest. Still, when he tried to think of a way to have her change her mind without insulting her... he found he really didn't want to turn her down. They had been together so often the gradual change in his feelings for her had been unnoticed by him until now, and he had fallen in love with her somewhere along the way.

That night, Tavon and Masura strengthened the bond between them as they confessed their love for one another -- be it a bit uneasy after just having slept with each other. Though she did find it amusing when he asked for her help in braiding his own hair into a daiori. It would soon appear that the Wheel wasn't done with them yet though, as Masura found herself with child a few weeks after their union. A few months later, when her stomach had already started to swell, the necessary arrangements for their marriage had been made, and the two were wed, Masura jokingly commenting on how she'd have to give Tavon's daiori to herself now.

Five months later, their daughter was born, named after Masura's mother Jerinia. By this time, Tavon's father had been killed in a Trolloc raid, and Tavon had become old enough to succeed him in the Malkeri army. Yet, even though he realised his duties, he always looked forward to when the campaign would be over so he could return home to his wife and child. Not having had sisters of his own, he told Jerinia the stories of his Campaigns, as his father had done to him many years ago. Masura didn't like stories like that one, claiming they were having a bad influence on the girl, but Jerinia didn't seem to mind so it never really spawned an argument between them.

Still, it came as a complete surprise to him when Jerinia wanted to join the Army as well. He quickly glanced at his wife's face -- noticing a look he knew all too well -- and almost jumped into trying to convince his daughter that that wouldn't be such a good idea. Yet, Tavon was never really good when it came to dealing with women, and with a resigned sigh her mother chipped in before the argument got out of hand too much. She did allow Jerinia to dye her hair red though, as a silent reminder to Tavon to be more mindful of her advice next time. She did manage to have her change her mind from wanting to join the Aiel to becoming an Aes Sedai, something he was grateful for.

The battles were hard, a large rolloc host coming to reclaim the land which had been lost when half the Malkieri lances advanced north. It had only been because of a group of Aes Sedai present with them that their lines had held at all, and this was only the advance guard. Word was sent back to the capitol, and preparations were made to have most of its people reach safety while they would hold as long as they could at Herot's Crossing. Feeling worried for the safety of his family, Tavon explained the situation to Masura, and they agreed she would accompany her daughter to Tar Valon. Even if she would not be admitted, she would be safe, and it was the only place the girl'd willingly leave Malkier for.

With his heart at easy as his loved ones were heading south, Tavon marched for Herot's Crossing to join the King's forces there. Despite knowing the odds, he held his head high, determination radiating off of him and the men with him to keep the Trolloc host back for as long as they could.

-----

Tavon woke as an officer prodded his sleeping form. He groaned, shaking his head to get the last remnants of sleep out before standing up from under his blankets. He had slept in his armor and with weapons within reach, as they had for the past couple of days. After the battle, he and several pockets of survivors banded together, intending to march south to Kandor, Shienar and Arafel, to rejoin the fighting from their ranks. Tavon nodded, already knowing that that would not be for him.

He had discovered he could channel. Oh, there were a couple of incidents of what he believed to have been luck before that, but no amount of luck made earthen spikes shoot from the ground to impale his enemies like it had. Normally, a Malkieri that could channel would head north into the Blight, but after what happened with Lord Lain he couldn't bring himself to do that. Rather, he'd find a Stedding to live in, hoping the time would one day come that male channelers would not be fated to go mad, killing everyone around them.

They marched south, eventually connecting with Shienarian forces heading north, and despite their battle-worn condition felt somewhat reluctant to stop fighting. Some joined the Shienarians, others did not. Tavon didn't join either, heading to a Stedding he had heard about located further to the south, in the Black Hills. An appropriate name.

The Stedding was his home for the next couple of decades. Channeling had slowed his aging, making him appear not a day older than he had been at Herot's Crossing, but he could tell enough from the passing of time as he carefully picked out rumors concerning male channelers. Though relatively safe from false Dragons as well as the Red Ajah that hunted them, he nevertheless couldn't help wondering how his wife and child were doing right now. Thus, when during one of his occasional ventures out of the Stedding to hunt for rumors, word reached him of an amnesty for male channelers, he jumped at the chance and left the Stedding, heading south into Andor.

Yet, he knew he had to be careful, still being somewhat suspicious of the Red Ajah. Knowing that his Malkieri traits would give him away on sight, he changed his name to Martyn Stonebridge, removed his hadori, and walked into a small village called Kore Springs near the Andor border posing as a traveller from Whitebridge looking for a job. After finding a place to stay, he joined the local militia to train its less capable recruits, and managed to gain their trust over the next couple of years or so.

There was still the channeling though. His skill with a blade had been far enough above the militia's that he did not need the Void, but they were starting to get close now. Besides, however much he appreciated their kindness he knew he hadn't left the Stedding for them. Using the excuse of wanting to join the Queen's Guard, he bid his farewell and left after making sure his successor in the militia was arranged, and left the village, knowing they would confirm and back his alias should anyone decide to check.

Instead of Caemlyn however, he headed for Tear, where he believed the Black Tower was located. There, he hoped he would find answers on how to prevent this madness, and the wake of destruction it so often resulted in. He was convinced his daughter, now 68 years old, would no longer remember him even if she still lived, but regardless on whether the Light or the Shadow was responsable for his ability to channel Saidin, he knew he at least wanted to make himself useful in fighting the Shadow again...