Ok, here's the revised history.  I think it's good this time.

History: Cain stood before the gates to Tear looking into the city with obvious discomfort. Do I truly belong here? Could my father be right? He thought to himself. Well, it is either here or the White Tower. The thought of the White Tower gave him the shivers, no man capable of channeling wanted the fate that awaits them there.

His thoughts were interrupted by an older man coming to stand beside him and asking, “ So, are you going to stand here all day or enter to be trained?”

Looking at the man he saw he was just graying and wore a black robe over his obviously armored frame. At his hip he wore a longsword of fine craftsmanship. The face was hard and stern with a look of gruff concern upon it now. Cain responded thus, “ Sir, I am not sure how you guessed my cause to be here and I’m not sure I should be here. I have come a long way to be here at my father’s urging, but can the Dragon Reborn really help me control this raging inferno swirling chaotically through my head? Can he teach me to keep the madness of the Taint at bay long enough for Him to burn the Taint away? This is by far the better choice of the two I have as the White Tower would destroy me. With all due respect sir I wonder if I should’ve just entered the Shadowlands and fought until they killed me.” He looked quietly and seriously at the old man while he started gripping the hilt of his shortsword, kneading it with the palm of his hand.

The man looked at him and said softly, “ It sounds like you have a story to tell. Why don’t we sit and you can tell me all about it. You can start wherever you like. Come sit on the side of the road here and let’s hear it.” he was being friendly and jovial as he attempted to calm the boy. Then he sat on the side of the road and patted a spot next to him.

The boy looked stiffly for a moment at the gate into Tear and then decided now was as good as any time to tell his tale. He moved over next to the man and, careful of his sword, he sat down. He started staring off into open air as he began, “ I guess that you have probably figured out I’m Shienarian by now sir. There is nothing odd or different in my upbringing worth mentioning, I was born and raised in traditional standards for my land. Lived in the care of a woman who I call mother until I was ten seasons, then given my first sword and lived with the warriors in their quarters under the watchful eyes of my mentor and father. I’m six blades old now by the way sir, in case your wondering. My story starts about a blade ago and it began as thus.” at this the boy takes a deep breath and prepares to remember the past.

“ It started as I said about a sword ago. I was lying in bed sound asleep and having pleasant dreams when all of a sudden they turned to nightmares. I found myself walking through the halls of Fal Dara but all was chaos! There was fire burning even where there was no place for it to burn, people screaming so loudly and shrilly that I couldn’t make out the words. Through it all I walked as a ghost feeling like my whole body was on fire as I slowly crept through the halls, walking through the fires and not feeling them. It was horrible, I knew I was on fire but I couldn’t stop and put it out or stop from helping it spread! Then as suddenly as the dream had taken me I was in another. In this one I was lying down in bed but the bed and my body were bare and burning in solid flame shooting five feet high. I couldn’t move and could see that if I didn’t stop the fire it would burn down the room and everything else. I awoke with a start and realized it was only a dream. The next morning however I told my parents what happened and my father had me stay in my room all day. The following day I got a terrible headache and watched as I walked around trying to find my father while I was burning everything I touched. Luckily my father hadn't left our quarters yet and he doused me with water, the only rooms getting burned was our common room and my bedroom. Then he knocked me out with the bucket!

" When I awoke later that day all I could think of was what had happened, even as I threw up for a good span of time. So I thought between bouts of getting sick, that I had been on fire and I could’ve burned down the entire fortress! In a panic I stood up and facing my parents I swore I would ride into the Shadowlands on the spot. You see in the Borderlands that was the custom with the only other option being to be locked away until the Aes Sedai came for you. However my father said there was another option. I could go to the Tear and join the others who could channel to help the Dragon Reborn, I could learn to use and control it like Him and become one of His sanctioned warriors.

“ My journey began that very morning. I got washed, dressed as you see me now and left Fal Dara just after dawn. Throughout the journey, which took me a full blade cycle, I kept accidentally setting things on fire. Usually when I got a headache or when I was daydreaming and my mental control was lax. The worst of these was the time I set an inn on fire. All the others were easy to fix as I tried to stay close to water, but I jump ahead of myself. I was scared, scared of leaving home, of traveling by myself and of what would happen if the Aes Sedai caught me first. I traveled to Fal Moran first and it was easy going along the road, but I didn’t stay, instead I passed through and continued south until I hit the Spine of the World. From there I followed the Spine until the river Gaelin which I followed to Cairhien. Again I didn’t stay as I had already had minor incidents while I trekked along the river banks. From Cairhien I sold my horse and booked passage on a river boat to Aringill. That was where things got rough. I rented a room at an inn on the river, but it wasn’t enough. I awoke in the heart of the night with the worst headache yet. While my mind was in turmoil and lax, the fire burst from my hand and I screamed for others in the rooms next to mine to wake up. I watched in rising horror as the room caught fire and what seemed like only seconds, the door to the hall caught fire. I don’t know why I did what comes next but it worked. In a panic now as the room was fully engulfed, I ran to the window and threw it open and then I jumped. I landed in the river and swam for the wharf closest to me, by now the water had put out the fire and cooled my head. Realizing that the inn was still on fire, I rushed up to the front of the inn and helped get people out and put out the fire. As soon as people were calm and started asking how it started I left. However, on the other side of the river I got sick and threw up several times before I was able to move on.

“ Now you might be wondering how I still have my swords, that’s easy, a warrior of the Borderlands never sleeps without his armor and swords upon him when away from the fortress walls. Inside a fortress yes, but I was traveling and didn’t know what trouble might come so even in the inn I slept fully armed. To continue my tale though, I followed the River Erinin to Tear itself but I was fearful of being near people, I was also sick for several days after the fire so I didn’t want people trying to help and stay close to me. It was this same fear and sickness which, although already having traveled for many months, forced me to slow down my journey. I avoided people and ships as I traveled, I left the river and followed it from a good distance and above all I took my time because there was no water immediately nearby to douse a flame. The last couple of months have been spent hiding and moving slowly through the land between Far Madding and Haddon Mirk as close to the river as I dared. Again I lapse in my story, during my time along the Erinin I had been fearful of getting caught and more fearful of getting a headache and setting a fire that got out of control. I have finally made it here only to question my right to be here. I want to stop burning things without any control, but what will that control cost me? My sanity? Will I go mad or become forever scarred? I wish this to be a blessing but I feel I’ve been cursed by the Dark One himself!” Finished he sat there rigidly and pale as a ghost. He was spent with no where left to go but in the Black Tower and he knew it. He stood and looked at the man sitting next to him and then started walking into Tear.

The old man called out after him in a dry voice, “ Boy, anyone touched with Saidin is touched by the Dark One, but we all fight against it and one day the Dragon will free us of the taint. Hold your head up high and remember that!” and then he laughed and Cain wasn’t sure if the man was crazy already or not.

Lets see here . . .

Name: Esyndor Renethil

Location: Caemlyn

Just looking for a direction to go with him.  Anything that sounds adventurous.

An interesting one, with an interesting format, but here it goes.

DM handle: Sylvirci

Email: sylvirci[at]yahoo.com

Char name: Cain Ddraiglyn

Age: 16 (6 by the Sword)

Birthplace: Fal Dara, Shienar

    Appearance: Cain stands six feet tall with a slender, yet muscled frame. A freshly shaven head leaving only a topknot in the exact center of the top back portion of his head. Eyes as green as the forest of Shienar that normally gleam in the light but lately are as dull and dark as the Shadowlands. His face holds sharp narrow cheek and jawbones, a hooked hawk like nose off-set by evenly spaced and slightly tilted piercing eyes. He wears a novices’ leather armor bearing a black swooping hawk as is befitting a young warrior in training. Instead of the typical two handed longsword of most Shienarian warriors he wears a single handed longsword on his back, that is light enough to wield with one hand, followed by a shortsword on his hip for his off-hand. A fine picture of a Shienarian warrior in training.

    History: Cain stood before the gates to the farm looking into the grounds with obvious discomfort. Do I truly belong here? Could my father be right? He thought to himself. Well, it is either here or the White Tower. The thought of the White Tower gave him the shivers, no man capable of channeling wanted the fate that awaits them there.

His thoughts were interrupted by an older man coming to stand beside him and asking, “ So, are you going to stand here all day or enter to be trained?”

    Looking at the man he saw he was just graying and wore a black robe over his obviously armored frame. At his hip he wore a longsword of fine craftsmanship. The face was hard and stern with a look of gruff concern upon it now. Cain responded thus, “ Sir, I am not sure. I have come a long way to be here at my father’s urging, but can the Dragon Reborn really help me control this raging inferno swirling chaotically through my head? Can he teach me to keep the madness of the Taint at bay long enough for Him to burn the Taint away? This is by far the better choice of the two I have as the White Tower would destroy me. With all due respect sir I wonder if I should’ve just entered the Shadowlands and fought until they killed me.” He looked quietly and seriously at the old man while he started gripping the hilt of his shortsword, kneading it with the palm of his hand.

    The man looked at him and said softly, “ It sounds like you have a story to tell. Why don’t we sit and you can tell me all about it. You can start wherever you like. Come sit on the side of the road here and let’s hear it.” he was being friendly and jovial as he attempted to calm the boy. Then he sat on the side of the road and patted a spot next to him.

    The boy looked stiffly for a moment at the farm, or Black Tower, and then decided now was as good as any time to tell his tale. He moved over next to the man and, careful of his sword, he sat down. He started staring off into open air as he began, “ I guess that you have probably figured out I’m Shienarian by now sir. There is nothing odd or different in my upbringing worth mentioning, I was born and raised in traditional standards for my land. Lived in the care of a woman who I call mother until I was ten seasons, then given my first sword and lived with the warriors in their quarters under the watchful eyes of my mentor and father. I’m six blades old now by the way sir, in case your wondering. My story starts about a blade ago and it began as thus.” at this the boy takes a deep breath and prepares to remember the past.

    “ It was some time after the Dragon Reborn had come to us simply as a commoner. When he left he was The Dragon Reborn. I mention this because it is the reason my father even gave me the choice to come here. I evade the story though, it started as I said about a sword ago. I was lying in bed sound asleep and having pleasant dreams when all of a sudden they turned to nightmares. I found myself walking through the halls of Fal Dara but all was chaos! There was fire burning even where there was no place for it to burn, people screaming so loudly and shrilly that I couldn’t make out the words. Through it all I walked as a ghost feeling like my whole body was on fire as I slowly crept through the halls, walking through the fires and not feeling them. It was horrible, I knew I was on fire but I couldn’t stop and put it out or stop from helping it spread! Then as suddenly as the dream had taken me I was in another. In this one I was lying down in bed but the bed and my body were bare and burning in solid flame shooting five feet high. I couldn’t move and could see that if I didn’t stop the fire it would burn down the room and everything else. I awoke with a start and realized it was only a dream. The next morning however I told my parents what happened and my father had me stay in my room all day. The following day I got a terrible headache and watched as I walked around trying to find my father while I was burning everything I touched. Luckily my father hadn't left our quarters yet and he doused me with water, the only rooms getting burned was our common room and my bedroom. Then he knocked me out with the bucket!

" When I awoke later that day all I could think of was what had happened, even as I threw up for a good span of time. So I thought between bouts of getting sick, that I had been on fire and I could’ve burned down the entire fortress! In a panic I stood up and facing my parents I swore I would ride into the Shadowlands on the spot. You see in the Borderlands that was the custom with the only other option being to be locked away until the Aes Sedai came for you. However my father said there was another option. I could go to the Black Tower and help the Dragon Reborn, I could learn to use and control it like Him and become one of His Asha’man.

    “ My journey began that very morning. I got washed, dressed as you see me now and left Fal Dara just after dawn. Throughout the journey, which took me a full blade cycle, I kept accidentally setting things on fire. Usually when I got a headache or when I was daydreaming and my mental control was lax. The worst of these was the time I set an inn on fire. All the others were easy to fix as I tried to stay close to water, but I jump ahead of myself. I was scared, scared of leaving home, of traveling by myself and of what would happen if the Aes Sedai caught me first. I traveled to Fal Moran first and it was easy going along the road, but I didn’t stay, instead I passed through and continued south until I hit the Spine of the World. From there I followed the Spine until the river Gaelin which I followed to Cairhien. Again I didn’t stay as I had already had minor incidents while I trekked along the river banks. From Cairhien I sold my horse and booked passage on a river boat to Aringill. That was where things got rough. I rented a room at an inn on the river, but it wasn’t enough. I awoke in the heart of the night with the worst headache yet. While my mind was in turmiol and lax, the fire burst from my hand and I screamed for others in the rooms next to mine to wake up.  I watched in rising horror as the room caught fire and what seemed like only seconds, the door to the hall caught fire. I don’t know why I did what comes next but it worked. In a panic now as the room was fully engulfed, I ran to the window and threw it open and then I jumped. I landed in the river and swam for the wharf closest to me, by now the water had put out the fire and cooled my head. Realizing that the inn was still on fire, I rushed up to the front of the inn and helped get people out and put out the fire. As soon as people were calm and started asking how it started I left. However, on the other side of the river I got sick and threw up several times before I was able to move on.

    “ Now you might be wondering how I still have my swords, that’s easy, a warrior of the Borderlands never sleeps without his armor and swords upon him when away from the fortress walls. Inside a fortress yes. But I was traveling and didn’t know what trouble might come so even in the inn I slept fully armed. To continue my tale though, I followed the Caemlyn Road to Caemlyn itself but I was fearful of being near people so I pressed on. I was also sick for several days after the fire so I didn’t want people trying to help and stay close to me. It was this same fear and sickness which, although already having traveled for many months, forced me to slow down my journey. I avoided people as I traveled, I left the road and followed it from a good distance and above all I took my time because there was no water nearby to douse a flame. The last couple of months have been spent hiding and moving slowly through the land of Andor. Do you know there is rumor that the Heir to the throne of Andor is Aes Sedai? Of course there are others that say she is in love with the Dragon too. Again I lapse in my story, during my time in Andor I have been fearful of getting caught and more fearful of getting a headache and setting a fire that got out of control. I have finally made it here only to question my right to be here. I want to stop burning things without any control, but what will that control cost me? My sanity? Will I go mad or become forever scarred? I wish this to be a blessing but I feel I’ve been cursed by the Dark One himself!” Finished he sat there rigidly and pale as a ghost. He was spent with no where left to go but in the Black Tower and he knew it. He stood and looked at the man sitting next to him and then started walking into the Farm.

    The old man called out after him in a dry voice, “ Boy, anyone touched with Saidin is touched by the Dark One, but we all fight against it and one day the Dragon will free us of the taint. Hold your head up high and remember that!” and then he laughed and Cain wasn’t sure if the man was crazy already or not.

Esyndor was more than a little surprised by Dilora's reactions. She's jumping around faster than an Aiel, he thought.  As she stood to leave Esy tightened his fingers around hers to keep her from going. What had happened to her?

"Wait.  If there's anything I can do to help ... I mean, if you're afraid to ..." He paused for a moment.  "I remember you offering to let me travel with you as a blacksmith last time.  I don't have any plans or opportunities at the moment, so if the offer still stands ...?"  He laughed lightly.  "I could use a little friendly company as well.  I owe you that much at least."

Esyndor listened carefully as Dilora told her tale.  It was not the sort of thing he'd expected to hear, though really he had known her for only a couple of weeks.  The story was a little vague on detail, but it was plain that it was distressing to her.  When Dilora fell silent again, staring at her now empty pie plate, he pondered the situation.

"It seems like the last year has been hard on everyone.  I found what I was looking for, but it turns out that it wasn't what I was looking for.  I almost feel like I lost something for it."

He took his turn relating the story of his last year.  The less than warm reception he had recieved in Lugard, and his rescue from Darl by the Ogier Forge.  His brief return to Caemlyn to track down a thug who knew a name just a few months ago, his journey to Cairhien to hunt down Lord Esanoma, his near death at the hands of the Aiel, and justice ultimately being served.

"I couldn't do it myself.  I had Esanoma but couldn't bring myself to do it.  I was going to leave him to his cowardice, but he attacked me from behind and Cor . . . well . . . he disposed of the 'honorless tree-killer'."

Esyndor glanced up at Dilora who stared at him.  He couldn't read her expression as she absorbed his story.  "I guess I owe you something for all the help you gave me.  I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you and your kindness to an orphaned wretch five years ago."

Handle: Rahlian

Email: wowrahlian@yahoo.com

Character count: no others, this is my first character

Character name: Basaar Taarol

Age: 23

Place of birth/Raising: Amadcian/Kandori

Physical appearance: 6' 3", 230lbs, muscular, black hair, black eyes, straight hair normal male length, forked beard in the Kandori fashion, prefers unrelieved black clothes in the Amadician fashion

History: Basaar Taarol was born in the town of Fyall, Amadicia, but his mother was accused of being a Tar Valon witch and murdered byChildren of the Light when Basaar was eight. Bryndon Taarol, his father then moved him and his two sisters, to Chachin, in Kandor. Bryndon set up shop in Chachin as a blacksmith in the Workmans Quarter. Basaar became his father's apprentice and has above average skill. Basaar does not have the usual bulky muscle associated with blacksmiths, but his height makes up for this and is still a bit stronger than average. He has some basic weapons training and practices occaisionally with a war hammer he crafted. Basaar has always felt a nearly subconcious attunement with metal, as he can almost smith by touch alone.

When Kandor fell to the Shadow, Bryndon took his family and fled to the south, planning to return to Amadicia. However, Basaar didn't want to flee, he wanted to join the rag-tag remnants of the army and defend his home. His father convinced him to return south with him, because of his sisters. On their way south, the Taarols passed nearby the Farm. Basaar pleaded with his father to let him got to the Tower, as they most likely needed skilled craftsmen to support the channelers there. Bryndon gave in realizing that his son needed some way to avenge himself against the Shadow.

Basaar left his family at Caemlyn, riding to the Tower in one of the supply carts. Upon arrival, he was told that every male seeking to live in the Tower was required to submit to testing for the ability to channel. It was then that it was discovered that Basaar could learn to channel the male aspect of the One Power. He accepted the offer to join the ranks of the blackcoats.

Basaar has a lasting hatred of both Aes Sedai and Whitecloaks, the former for causing his mother to be killed and the latter for actually doing the deed. Basaar considers himself to be the most important person to himself, and acts as best for himself. He is no coward though, and will put himself in harms way to protect an innocent, as long as he has a reasonable chance of coming through intact, unless his death could gain something vastly more important. The sole exception to this is children. He remembers his sisters fondly, and would sacrifice himself nearly on instinct to protect a child.

I'm looking for something to do with my Asha'man, and need someone to do it with.  There are a few different idea's I'm kicking around, but they mostly turn out to be solo character development . . . and that's not as much fun.

So anyone wanna come play with a not-quite-crazy Ashy?

We actually had a few gay characters for a while.  One of them had a pretty gruesome death come to think of it . . . and I'm not sure where his boyfriend went.

There was also a cross dresser, but I'm not sure what became of him either.

I blame the taint.  :P

Arath shook his head wearily as the last explosions died away.  Some of the dummies still stood, seemingly unharmed by the attacks of the soldiers, but most lay in ruins.  The sparse grass was covered in large chunks of soft earth and stone.  Kicking at a particularly large clod of dirt, Arath once again addressed his class.

"It seems most of you show a proficiency for crude destruction at least.  Now we will see if you can manage a more fine control."  A weave of air brought a large sack which had been laying against a large rock over to the Attack Leader.  Several of the students looked curiously, straining their necks to see what was inside.  Some of them were disappointed, and many of them confused by what was contained inside.

"Cooking," Arath began with a wry grin, "can be more difficult with the power than without.  It takes a great deal of control with fire to maintain the correct heat for cooking.  It takes skill with air to cut your food into acceptable pieces for cooking.  It takes a great deal of fortitude," he added with a grin, "to stomach the food that you will be cooking for yourselves.  From now on you will not only perform all of your chores with the power, but you will cook all of your own meals with it.  Raw food will be provided at the inn for you, but you will be expected to prepare it as best you can on your own.  I will show you how you will do this."

Many of the soldiers looked on aprehensively as Arath showed them how to use fine weaves of air to slice and dice the meat and vegetables.  Some of them looked completely depressed as he showed them how to weave fine threads of fire throughout the water to bring it to a slow, comfortable boil.  Every last one of them jumped as he showed them the consequences of cooking 'too fast'.  Using thicker, heavier weaves of fire, he instantly heated a pot of water to vapor, causing it to erupt out of the now twisted pot in a wet, steamy burst.

"Now then," he said cheerfully as he began dividing out the individual rations, "Let's eat."

OOC:  Cooking . . . fun fun fun :)

Come on peoples!  The month is half over and nobody is taking advantage of this offer!  Who doesn't want to blow stuff up in a more-than-half-crazy way!

Esy chuckled slightly.  "Five years.  And yes, Murandy was ahh . . . interesting.  Your friend you sent me to as well.  Hanry had unfortunately died a week or two before I arrived and Hanry . . . well, I suspect you know something of him."  Hanry had nearly pounded his head in with a hammer when he had mentioned Dilora upon first arriving.

"I spent four years there, with the bickering little nobles, and the suspicious everyones . . . If I never have to go to Murandy again it will be too soon."  He made a face of disgust.  "But I've met an Ogier, and black veiled Aiel, and all manner of other people since then.  It has been interesting."

He paused as a steaming roast chicken was placed on the table in front of him.  Tearing off a leg and sucking on teh burned finger it earned him, he turned back to Dilora and asked, "And how have you been?  What kind of adventures has the worlds greatest peddlar had over the years?"

Arath thoroughly enjoyed himself as he destroyed the creations of his students one by one.  Some of them had done a fairly decent job, but most showed a staggering narrow mindedness when it came to their defense, shielding their earthen toys from only one element.  Not that there was much they could have done against the earthen spike he had raised from beneath, but still . . . perhaps they would show more initiative on attack.  That was more most men seemed to excel.

Arath let the class stand in a quiet and orderly line for a few minutes while he began to raise a manakin army from the ground.  Each was roughly human shaped, and spaced far enough from the others that no soldier would inadvertantly harm another.  When there were 4 dummies for each soldier, Arath released Saidin and addressed the class once again.

"While I wouldn't trust any of you to guard my back with those pathetic shields, I do expect you to be able to destroy an enemy without difficulty.  So, I want to see what you can do.  Each of you take a group of manakins.  Attack them individually.  One attack against each dummy.  I want to see the kind of damage you are able to inflict in a single strike.  And show me a little more creativity than you did with defensive weaves.  Try different things.  Do not disappoint me."

Nodding at the group in dismissal, he watched carefully as they began their destructive work. This part was always interesting, and occasionaly educational.

Esyndor hesitated briefly before entering the semi-full common room.  It was more crowded than any of the places he frequented lately, and it still felt weird to be surrounded by . . . reputable company.  He shook his head and laughed at himself before stepping inside.  It would be difficult to return to a normal life after so long.

Despite his efforts to relax, he began an appraisal of everyone in the common room the moment he sat down at his corner seat.  Off to one side was a large group of what appeared to be merchant guards, dicing and drinking loudly.  Beyond them sat a sullen looking group who muttered among themselves and seemed to ignore everyone else.  As Esy's eyes drifted around the room, automatically marking those people who could possibly be a threat, they fell upon a suprisingly familiar face.  A face not nearly as happy as the last time he had seen it, but this was unmistakably Dilora Fashelle.  A wide grin split his face as he recognized the peddlar who had rescued him from Caemlyn so many years ago.  Vaguely he wondered if she would recognize him.

He rose up quickly from his table and crossed the common room, apparently unseen by Dilora who was very absorbed in her potatoes and apple pie.  "Looks like an interesting slice of pie," he said with a grin.  "Mind if I stare at it with you?"

Pausing on a hill overlooking the sprawling city of Caemlyn, Esyndor Renethil stared and shook his head softly.  Only a few months since he had left this place again, but it somehow seemed so different.  Before, it had been a stop along the road in his quest for revenge.  Now . . . what was it now?  Home?  He doubted that very much, but who could say?  He had no plans for the future he had never expected to have.  Everything he had been had been focused upon destroying Esanoma.  Looking back, he realized that he had never expected to survive this long, nor to actually achieve his revenge.

Looking down on the Andoran capital, Esy wondered.  He wondered about his future, about his past, about tomorrow and what it would bring.  Where would he start?  Doubtlessly the ban against him working in any smithie in Caemlyn still stood, though it was doubtful that any would remember him.  But could he bear to remain here?  He shook his head angrily.  This thinking would get him nowhere.

~~~

A couple hours later, he found himself wandering the familiar yet strange streets of the city.  He found himself staring at familiar sites, remembering events from five years past.  Times he had nearly died, times he had narrowly escaped the watchful eyes of guards.  Distressingly few of his memories were good.  As he rounded a corner though, his eyes fell upon a familiar inn, and the shadow of a smile touched his lips.  At least there was a decent memory attatched to this place.  This was where it had started.  His journey to Murandy which had returned him to Caemlyn and then on to Cairhien.  All because  of a peddler named Dilora.

A quick glance at the darkening sky decided him.  He needed a place to stay for the night, and this place was as good as any.  Tomorrow he would begin to figure things out.  Right now all he wanted was a good meal and a good drink.  Or two.

Cairhein.  Thats where the whole revenge plot left him.  Dunno where Myth has gotten too, so I might have to just assume that story finished.  But time is never an issue here is it?

Should have a reunion with Esyndor after his whole revenge spiel.  Get to see the changes in the scared little smith boy after so long.

Arath surveyed the sad group of soldiers in front of him.  Some of them didn't look like they'd be able to handle the stress of the up coming weeks, but there were a few promising souls among them.  "For any of you who don't know me, I am Attack Leader Faringal.  I am responsible for overseeing the training of Soldiers and Dedicateds here at the Black Tower."

Siezing Saidin, Arath raised a training dummy from the stony ground, shaping the features to look strikingly human.  "You are to learn the basics you will need to survive with Saidin.  How to create," he indicated the dummy, "and how to kill."  Whipping around suddenly, Arath let loose a barrage of fireballs, reducing the earthen man to dust and rock chips.  "To protect."  He pointed at a small tree a short distance away.  Weaving deftly, he caused a shimmering, transparent bubble to appear around the sickly looking plant.  Weaves of air caused a large rock to hurtle toward the barrier and bounce off harmlessly.  Another fireball exploded against the barrier, also leaving the tree unscathed.  "And how to destroy."  The tree appeared to writh in pain to the soldiers as Arath heated it from the inside, boiling the sap and weakening the insides.  Finally great gouts of flame erupted from the trunk and consumed the tortured shrub.

Some of the soldiers looked as though they would be sick.  Others looked eager.  And a few of them watched intently, seeking knowledge for whatever end.  "I want all of you to sieze Saidin.  Using earth and air, I want you to create something.  A manakin, a shelter, a bunny, I don't care.  Create something.  Once I am satisfied, you will have to protect what you have made.  I will attempt to destroy it, and I will not go easy on you.  These are the weaves you will need."

It took a while, but eventually every soldier had been shown the necesary weaves to raise earth and stone from the ground, and to shape and sculpt it into different forms.  They were also shown the basics of an air shield and told of different ways it could be adapted to be more useful against different attacks.  "Creativity is often the key to success in a battle," Arath said as some complained about his lack of specific detail.  "Coming up with a new way of defense or attack that your enemy has never seen before.  Surprise me."

As his students began to finish off their creations, Arath siezed Saidin again, preparing several destructive weaves.  This was always the most fun part of the class.

OOC:  Sorry this took so long to get up.  Go ahead and build yourselves a little somthing to protect and then feel free to write out my attacks.  Arath will relentlessly continue until he has destroyed your work of art, starting with simple attacks and then building up into full powered weaves.  Be realistic about your strengths, weaknesses, and experience, but have fun with it.

I likes the sound of it.  Sign me up.

The hours passed fleetingly as Esyndor somehow slipped back into his natural element.  As much as revenge had consumed him, blacksmithing was still as natural to him as breathing.  The initial tests and trials that Turc had given him had long since passed, and now they argued over the correct proportions for mixing the highest grades of steel.

He almost jumped in surprise when Cor finally spoke up.  He had forgotten that his Aiel captor was still there, and that this was supposed to be some test of his truthfullness.  But the tall Aielman's next words were something even less expected.

“Wetlander, you have proven you are what you say. Now, I have toh to you, and I would serve it. Would you have the noble dead? If so, I must speak with the clan chief, but I can do this for you.”

The aprubt change in Cor's attitude astounded and confused Esy.  "I want nothing else in this life.  But why?  Not a week ago you were about to slaughter me on the rooftops.  What's changed?"  He immediately regretted second guessing the Aiel, but this simply felt too good to be true.  And in his limited experience, if it seemed to good, it always was.

Not that I've been a terribly active poster anyway, but I thought I should inform you all that I will be completely, totally, and in-all-other-ways, inaccesable from Jan 18 - Jan 27, due to the fact that I'm getting married on the 18th and will be . . . otherwise occupied.  ;D :o 8) 

Just so you don't think I've forgotten all about you . . . even if I kinda will . . . :)

*shudder*

I just got the most horrifying mental pictures . . .

:P

Ahh, but now you can resort to pulling rank.

"I don't know! Go run a lap soldier!"

Soooooo much fun :)

New years! It's better than Bel Tine!

Hope you all have a good one.

I've started a new thread for all of the new soldiers who have joined us recently.  If your bio has been approved, you're okay to join, even if you haven't posted an arrival RP yet.  Just to get you started. :)  And anyone else who needs this class too (if your mentor has been slacking or something) is also welcome to join us.

It's gonna be a brutal training thing, but have fun with it.  Get to know each other a little and get started with blowing things up!  Sounds like a win-win situation to me!

See you all there.  I'll leave it open for a week or so before I continue, just to give everyone a chance to join.

Arath stood at the training grounds, mentally preparing himself for the class ahead.  Basic introduction to the five elements and basic weaves.  Simple enough.  He wondered how someone would screw it up this time.  Inevitably, some foolish soldier would cause some sort of ruckus on a relatively simple thing.  But that was an obstacle to deal with when he came to it.

He had arrived a good half hour before he had instructed his students to do so, but the time passed quickly.  Soon enough, the ragtag group of soldiers began to file in and wait in a semi-orderly line, quietly chatting amongst themselves. 

Arath allowed them to continue like that until it looked as though everyone had shown up.  Siezing Saidin, he wove air and fire to amplify his voice and barked, "Soldiers!"  Many of the group jumped and whirled around.  Some of the better disciplined simply stood at attention.  "No more chattering like old women in my class.  I want all of you to run a lap, fast as you can, outside the outer wall."  Many of them groaned.  The only way outside the wall was the gate, which stood directly across the tower grounds.  Arath's amplified voice rang out again, "Move!"

The soldiers took off as a group, some quickly outdistancing the others.  Arath chuckled slightly.  He remembered when he had stood in their place what seemed such a long time ago.  As the students made the lap, he busied himself raising training manakins out of the ground and preparing his lesson tools.

15 minutes later, the fastest of the soldiers began to file in.  They continued to do so for the next five minutes, arriving in various levels of tiredness.  When the last exhausted soldier finally dragged himself into line, Arath began again.

"I want all of you to introduce yourself.  Your name, place of origin, and why your are here."  He pointed to the soldier who had arrived first.  "Let's start with you."  This was a little redundant he supposed, since he was generally the first person a new recruit spoke with at the tower, but it was good to double check at times.

OOC:  Okay, this class is for all of the new people who have just started and had their bio approved.  Or anyone else who needs the class.  I'll leave this standing for a week or so to allow everyone a chance to post, then continue.  Write your introduction, and your reactions to the lap and whatnot.  Have fun with it and converse with eachother.  This is also a get to know you thread, apart from being a class.