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Arath Faringal

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  1. It's just a carrot dangling in front of each Forsaken nose. All of the Forsaken went over to the Shadow for personal gain and power, and this mythical Nae'blis position represents the ultimate, if rather vague, power. Keeps them all in a greedy, power hungry line. Just chalk up another one for the Father of Lies.
  2. I used to like her, but Moiraine kind of annoyed me MORE on my last re-read. It almost seemed to me like every move she made was calculated to drive Rand further away from her. For the most part, she was one of the worst when it came to the whole "I know better than you because I'm Aes Sedai" attitude. Yeah, I get her reasoning, and her motives. She was doing the right thing, but she was going about it in an entirely wrong way. For example, telling the boys that she would destroy them herself before letting the Shadow have them ... Her point comes across, but I know my reaction as a teenager would have been "Get this crazy *$@ away from me".
  3. Elaida, or whoever is placing the order for the forgery, says plainly, to the non-Aes Sedai writer, "I want the letter to say ..." She never speaks an untrue word that way. It's most certainly what she wants written down.
  4. After the hunting incident at the start of the trip, Arath had done his best to remain unobtrusive. For the most part, he had faded into the background, doing whatever was asked of him but not drawing any attention to himself, or his abilities. As a result, the group seemed to ... maybe not trust him, but they didn't exactly shun him either. Resigned acceptance perhaps? The last few days had been even more silent than usual, almost to the point where his two companions seemed to forget him for a time. He couldn't really blame them. Kathleen seemed to be having a difficult enough time getting used to Olmena, let alone adding an Asha'man to the mix. For the most part, Arath was content with being ignored again, but now that they had reached their destination it seemed less than ideal. At least until the others arrived. After securing his own room at the chosen inn, Arath made his way down the hallway to where the Aes Sedai's rooms were. Tapping on the door, he cracked it open and poked his head inside. Ignoring the look that plainly told him he was interupting something, he simply asked, "What happens now? Bide our time and wait for the others, or ... what?"
  5. DM Handle: Jask Character Count: 1 Character Name: Dalinarius Traachanshield Nationality: Shienaran Age: 28 Physical Description: Roughly 6’3 with a lean, slightly lanky, hard build. Mousey brown hair falls in a slightly foppish Hugh Grant style around his face. Pale grey-blue eyes in true Borderlander style. Carries a quarterstaff of bone-white wood near his height with leather binding that was once a midnight blue but has been stained near black with years of use and sweat. Dalinarius Traachanshield grew up in the Borderland keep-town of Fal Dara, in far north eastern Shienar. His mother was a house-wife, and intermittently child-minder for other women around the keep with larger families to manage. His father was a soldier, and like most men in the town, Dalinar was expected to follow in his warrior's footsteps. From a young age, however, Dalinar showed an aversion to the brutality of the sword, and it was obvious that he would not live out the typical Shienaran life as a warrior. Eventually he settled into his calling as a Healer, apprenticing for some years to the keep’s master in that art, even as he continued martial studies under his uncle in hand-to-hand and the quarterstaff. He was a fair student in the fighting arts, and progressed well, but nowhere near as well as he did under the tutelage of the keep's wisened Master Healer. Within a matter of years he had surpassed his ailing and frail mentor's skill, and replaced him as Fal Dara's Healer. At the age of 21 or 22, a summons came from Fal Moran, from King Easar. The missive was short, to the point, and direct. "Make all haste,” it demanded, so make all haste he did. It wasn’t long before the reason for the summoning became clear. The King’s Aes Sedai advisor had taken ill, but refused to send to Tar Valon for assistance. Brianna Sedai, of the Blue Ajah, had a congenital heart disease that would take her to an early grave despite any miracle the Aes Sedai of the current age could try to save her. But her ending would be slow, though inexorable, and over this time the King insisted Dalinar tend her daily and cater her every need. Over this period they grew close until, finally and perhaps in a moment of near-death delirium, Brianna bonded Dalinar to her as her Warder. Brianna, like some Aes Sedai, had a fascination for things of prophecy and the Dragon. She had in her younger travelled extensively across the lands and was fascinated with parallels in different cultures and their beliefs around the Dragon’s Rebirth. Much of this she shared with Dali in their time together, though surely only a fraction of the wealth of knowledge at her fingertips. They returned to Tar Valon together then, Brianna having made some brief recovery, enough to survive the journey, and there life was less stressful for her, though surely more so for Dalinar, who was taken into Warder training immediately. Despite endless pressure from his many mentors, he would never touch a sword save to pass it to another or pick it up to hand back to a defeated opponent. His training focused primarily in the quarterstaff and hand-to-hand. Brianna and Dali shared a few precious years together before the Wheel’s weavings caught up with her and surely snipped her thread from the Pattern at last. Dalinar was distraught, having spent those last weeks almost constantly at her side. Her dying wish was that he seek out the banner of the Dragon that had been raised in Ghealdan and attempt to determine the man’s supposed authenticity. Her dying wish was all that gave him life and purpose. Find him he did, eventually. A curiously charismatic man named Dramon Calgar, gathering people to him like moths to a flame. He gained private audience with the man, and questioned him closely. Dramon demonstrated his ability to channel to Dali in this first meeting, and in so doing discovered that Dalinar too could learn to touch the True Source, with the proper guidance and training. Dramon had a Farm, he said, where men could learn to channel together, safely. Although reluctant (and terrified of the prospect of a group of men channeling, together!) Brianna’s dying wish pulled at the back of Dali’s mind, and before he knew it he was learning to channel. Dramon and Dalinar became close, until Dalinar was virtually Dramon’s right hand man. An attack on the Tower left Dramon in a coma which he could not be roused from, even with Dalinar’s finest efforts (and an ability to Heal that had not been seen since the Age of Legends, a Talent which left a bitter taste in his mouth whenever memories of Brianna haunted him). Dalinar replaced Dramon as the leader of the Farm. A new Dragon had arisen before Dramon’s death, and the Farm had sworn fealty to this man at Dalinar’s insistence and persuasion when the signs became all too clear that he was fulfilling the prophecies that Brianna had once spoken of to him. When Tear fell, the men of the Black Tower, were there fighting by the Lord Dragon’s side. Dalinar had ever had sentiment for Aes Sedai, though he spoke of his close connection to them in his past with noone, fearing retribution from many of those in the Tower who had only disdain or even hatred for those who would hunt them down and gentle them given half a chance. When Aes Sedai approached the Tower, Dali would have met them with peaceful offerings and open arms. Conflict arose, from both within the Black Tower and without, and a particular man of extraordinary strength in the Power who had risen to the rank of Storm Leader (Brent Enios), turned on Dali and sought to strip him of his leadership – by force – believe Dali was too soft on the Aes Sedai. Dalinar, though exceptionally skilled in the Power, was no match for the formidable strength that was flung against him by the mutinous Storm Leader. With the last of the strength that he could draw on, he fled the scene via a Gate that opened into a place that Dalinar and his Spymaster (Skechid Aran Teobon) had once agreed upon in case of this very sort of coup. As Dalinar fled, his feet finding purchase on the far side of the Gate, the Storm Leader Brent flung a final weave of the Power at him. As it struck Dali, unprepared, the Gateway that had hung in the air a moment before melted out of existence. Dalinar collapsed to the ground on the far side, his breathing hoarse, his wounds sapping the strength and lifeblood from him. He reached for saidin, hoping it might fortify him even as it sought to destroy him… and came up short. He reached again, coughing out blood and clutching his sides as his innards ripped with pain. Again, saidin evaded him. And again. Just out of sight, just within reach, but as far away as the sun itself. Oh Light… It’s gone. A tear crept down the side of his face, mingling with sweat and dirt, and Dalinar didn’t know if it was for the pain of the wounds which were surely killing him, or the emptiness and loss he felt. The loss of saidin. Not even losing Brianna had felt like this.
  6. No, we think they're turned Aiel channelers because there is simply a good chance that they are. The Aiel have been throwing their male wilders into the blight for centuries. Ishy has been out of prison on his rotating cycle during that whole time, and could easily have captured or arranged for the capture of more than a few during his free time. These channelers, if they are twisted to the Shadow, would enjoy the DO's taint filter, meaning they could live for centuries, and once they numbered a couple dozen, it's an easily self sustaining resource. So there could be quite a few of them. I'm guessing that there are slighlty larger numbers of wilders among the Aiel then among the rest of Randland, so that would also add quickly to their numbers. So you'd rather believe in two mysterious new additions to the Shadow's forces, rather than a single addition? Mysterious dark male channeler army AND strange mutant Aiel. Because it's a much more badass idea for there to be an epic ninja showdown between black veiled and red veiled Aiel in the last battle. I find it easier to believe that this mysterious new channeling force, and the mysterious new Aiel force, are one and the same. These Aiel are present in the aftermath of slaughter of a borderlander fort. Presumably, this was brought down by channelers, just like in what happened in the battle we were able to see. Borderlander fortifications don't fall quickly ... they were built for this sort of thing. We don't see the channelers during the battle, nor do we see anything resembling an Aiel. Since it's a reasonably safe assumption that these guys belong to the shadow, we can assume there were in the area for a specific reason. Frankly, I don't see these dots as very hard to connect. Is there a chance that we're wrong? Absolutely! Is the evidence circumstantial? Of course. What kind of evidence are you looking for? The dying merchant to suddenly manifest the ability to sense Saidin and say "Mother's milk in a cup! These guys are channeling!" It's a reasonable conclusion that these 'Aiel' are the mysterious new channelers that happened to appear in the same book. The fact that they didn't set his face on fire means nothing. That can easily be explained by the fact that they were bred as warriors and get a sadistic satisfaction out of getting their hands dirty. Especially if they weren't allowed to join the battle directly as they may have wanted.
  7. He wasn't quite sure what to make of that bit of information. A hundred years old? Aes Sedai lived that long? It suddenly dawned on him just how much that taint stole from him. From the Asha'man. Fury welled up in his mind for a moment before he composed himself. It changed nothing, and dwelling on what could never be helpful. So long as he made it to the last battle, he would be content. But still ... what could he do with hundreds of years ...? "It has been a long day for all of us, and we've strayed a bit from your original point. Rules. What do you have in mind?" "Well, first off, we are not your property." Zarinen's eyes narrowed a little, and he hurriedly added, "Last time, even though the Aes Sedai at the Farm were captives, they took on a very ... dominant ... attitude. As though they owned the place. We knew for a fact that if the position had been reversed they would have been studying us like animals. There won't be any of that. If any of your sisters want to 'experiment' with their bondmate, they only do so with full permission, and full explanations of what they're up to. The reverse also holds true of course. We removed all traces of compulsion from the bond that we used on you this time, so we can't force you into anything either." Arath poured himself another glass of wine while Zarinen mulled that rule over. "Second, when the time comes, we will be the ones to ... to deal with each other. Like I said before, that is the only comfort we have. If one of us should fall to the taint ... you can shield him and restrain him, but it ultimately falls to us to end him." Arath let his bond mate stew on that one for a while before moving to his next item of business. "The last thing I can think of right now is lodging. If any of you wish to visit the Black Tower, you may stay at the home of your bond mate, if he is an Asha'man. Dedicated live in the barracks, so if any of you bond with one of them ... she's just out of luck. As for us ..." Arath grinned. He got the feeling this part would be interesting." It seems that the inn that you've dumped us in will no longer work. The inn keeper hasn't had a man in her establishment for years by my guess, and didn't care much for us in the first place. And it also seems that nobody explained the exact nature of her new guests to her. She was snooping around and saw something she wasn't prepared for." The young Storm Leader smirked. "I don't think we'll be very welcome there for much longer." He looked around the lavish chamber very pointedly before adding, "You look like you have some nice enough rooms here. I don't suppose there are any available to house a few ... warders?"
  8. That doesn't really mean anything. We haven't seen Rand do much healing at all, other than healing Bela's fatigue. Someone who hasn't healed so much as a papercut isn't going to be able to heal death just because he's wielding a sa'angreal. I think if death can be healed, it would have to take place in a VERY small window of opportunity, before the soul has a chance to slip too far away. Unless someone could figure out how to trap a soul in the area. That kind of sounds like something you'd have to learn from the DO though, and accomplish with the TP.
  9. It may simply be that the way of creating ter'angreal and angreal was more complicated in the AoL. They had their way of doing things, and didn't make them the way Elayne does. We know that to be true in other instances. Moridin was amazed at what the modern channelers can do with weather weaves ... something that required complex ter'angreal in the past. Working with the One Power is probably like solving a Rubik's Cube. You may know one way of doing it, but there's always a faster, more simple way that you just can't figure out.
  10. There are a number of reasons why people think they are channelers. First, the eyes. Seems a bit similar to the turned Asha'man we see with the dead looking eyes. Second, the very malicious evil-ness they exhibit. From what RJ told us about 13x13, anybody turned that way would have their soul twisted and warped ... irreversably evil. Sounds like the kind of person who would like to walk up to a helpless victim and get their hands bloody. Up close and personal. Especially if they were denied direct participation in a recent battle. Third, there are scenes in the book where an unknown force of male channelers are working for the shadow. The destruction of the walls of the borderlander city. The portal stone bringing in the shadowspawn to attack Perrin. In the case of the portal stone, this is a skill that nobody on the light side has. Yes, Rand can use a portal stone, but uses massive amounts of the power to do it. According to Perrin's Asha'man, the men using the stone aren't using a lot of the power. That skill must have come from one of the Forsaken. It could be dark Asha'man, but it seems doubtful to me that the Shadow would deploy darkfriend Asha'man to a place where regular Asha'man are, at least before the final battle. Fourth, location. This little band of creepy Aiel are roaming the borderlands, very near a city that has just been destroyed. It's probably safe to say that the battle that we did get to see was a model for what happened all along the blight border. Male channelers blowing up the wall. Coincidence that they were nearby? Perhaps ... but I doubt it.
  11. This would be the crop singing that existed during the Age of Legends. We see a glimpse of that when Rand see's the history of the Aiel. The human's with the Voice, the Ogier, and a Nym, using the song to help the crops grow.
  12. Arath laughed to himself as Zarinen barraged him with questions. Letting the link dissolve again, he answered as best he could when she managed to cut herself off. "Unfortunately, it is very draining. The longest I've ever used it was about half an hour. If I really pushed myself I might be able to last about twice that. I mostly use it for small things, and never really cared to test my limits." The Asha'man sighed, and scratched his head as he pondered the other questions. "As for what I did, I told you before that I tried to make an angreal. We only have a few angreal at the Farm, and I was only able to study two of them before I made my attempt. Unfortunately, the stronger of the two angreal is flawed somehow. The weaker one increases your strength, but it has a limit to that increase. The other ... has no limit. There is no protective buffer on it, and it amplifies the taint as well as Saidin. I compared the two, and thought I'd found the difference, and when I built my own angreal I think I over did the buffer." Arath shrugged. "Whatever I did, I haven't been able to duplicate it. I made another angreal, but it doesn't do anything at all. No strength increase, and no noticeable filtering effect. I have the theory correct, but I'm still missing something." Staring back down into his wine glass, Arath thought for a moment, gently swirling the liquid. "At any rate, this proves that the taint can be removed. Burn me if I can think of a permanent solution, but there has to be something." He fell silent for a moment, before draining his glass and settling back into his seat. "But that is a problem for another day. I think we have enough to deal with for now. So you have a history of befriending channeling men, you were exiled from the White Tower, and you're now somehow the head of your ajah. What else should I know about you?"
  13. DM Handle: Visar Falmaien Contact Info: visarfalmaien(at)gmail(dot)com Character Count: 1st Character Name: Teal Fletcher Nationality: Altaran (from the Rashad in Ebou Dar) Age: 23 Physical Appearance: Teal has a very plain appearance, with brown hair, brown eyes, and olive-toned skin. Most people would not notice his average height or build (5’6”, 150 lbs. or so) save for one feature: he has a tattoo of the herb Thyme on his forehead, which he tends to keep shaved or short-cut. Personality Description: Quick to anger but slow to fight, Teal is an interesting Altaran who is more than meets the eye. While he has a brusque, blunt manner of speaking that can be quite off-putting, he is actually quite shy around strangers, and abhors unnecessary violence of any kind. He loves women of all sorts of appearances and obsesses over them, yet tends to be very quiet and deferential around them, lest they challenge him to a fight. Personal History: Teal’s father was a fletcher, and his father was a fletcher, and his father’s father was a fletcher, or at least that’s what Teal knows. His mother’s brothers and father were all tanners, so Teal was brought up with the option of both trades in mind. Not being one too thrilled to continue the family business of either side, Teal liked to keep to himself and wander the city. Of course, living as he did in the Rashad portion of Ebou Dar, violence and dueling was a part of every day life. A boy wasn’t considered a man until he lived through his first duel and had a scar to show for it, and yet Teal did not have any propensity or liking for dueling. The only time he dueled was with a girl, who defeated him because he didn’t want to hurt her. She didn’t scar him, but did the same kind of damage, as she humiliated him in front of most of his friends in the city, calling him a good-for-nothing coward, among other things. It became increasingly clear to Teal that he was not welcome where he was. His family was fed up with him not being decisive on picking his trade, and accused him of being a lazy good-for-nothing carp. His friends, what few he had, increasingly shamed him for not becoming a man and having the guts to duel like what was expected of him. And so one day, rather than face a man who had challenged him to a knife duel, Teal left the city, taking only what little he possessed and could carry. He had a knife, but didn’t really know how to use it other than for peeling potatoes and onions and such, and he had some decently made leather boots. He traveled for a few years, spending some time voyaging with a Sea Folk family who befriended him. When they parted ways in a less than satisfactory manner, Teal decided to have a tattoo done to remember them and their kindness. They had been almost a family and clan to him, and he would miss them. Their ship was called the Taym, and since that sounded a lot like a certain herb, Teal had the herb thyme tattooed on his forehead. Next, having not found what he was looking for in the high seas, he traveled inland. He journeyed north up the river, through Ghealdan and Murandy, or whatever the country was, and one day months later, he found himself with well-worn boots and tattered clothing close to the city of Caemlyn, with no money or food, or energy for the journey to better prospects in the city. Stopping one day in a village, hoping to beg for food and shelter somewhere, Teal found a commotion in the town square and decided to take a closer look. Men with black coats had arrived, asking to see all interested men for a “testing.” Desperate for work, Teal asked to see if he could get tested. The testing went by, and something very strange occurred. The man who tested him held up a small flame, asking him to look at it. Teal didn’t ask how the man had managed to make a flame appear over his hand; perhaps these were illuminators or performers with some trick? That’s what he thought at first, at least. Teal found himself drawn to the flame like a moth, but fire tended to do that for him, mesmerizing him with its beauty. Sometimes he just wanted to reach out and speak to the flame somehow, and for a moment it seemed like he did speak to it, if only a faint echo of another’s distant voice. To his surprise, the men in black agreed and found him “worthy”, whatever that meant, taking him with them to their Farm in some undisclosed location in Andor. From there, his life at the Black Tower would begin.
  14. Arath watched the former Storm Leader over peaked fingers, listening carefully to what he had to say. "Your timing is good, but circumstances make it suspicious. You are the third of the old Storm Leaders to return to us in a very short time. Skechid and Ragnar both arrived within the last few weeks, and I begin to wonder what is causing this. Is it just the pattern pulling everything it needs together for Tarmon Gaidon? Or is someone else pulling strings? It may sound paranoid, but I have the hardest time believing in coincidence anymore." "Your bones are right though," Arath continued, leaning back in his seat. "Tarmon Gaidon is upon us. The opening blows have already been struck, even if the Last Battle itself hasn't begun. Shienar is gone, and Arafel as well. Overrun by Shadowspawn and Dreadlords. We lost a lot of men in a counter attack on Fal Dara. So much has changed." "I find it a little strange that you would come back here because you fear the madness. Most men run in the opposite direction when they have that concern. But I am glad you are here. Training standards have become lax recently. Ever since my responsibilities have taken me from the training grounds. We still use your name to terrify new recruits. And some of the Dedicated as well. We need you there, if you are willing and able to return to training."
  15. Arath waved his hand dismissively, not caring if Koras smoked his tabac in the Citadel. So long as it wasn't in his home, he didn't care. Settling into his chair behind his desk, Arath sat in silence for a few moments, considering the options. In the past, and under normal circumstances, Koras would be considered a traitor. He would have faced a quick execution and a place of his own on the traitor's tree. But this wasn't the past, and circumstances at the Farm were far from normal. They didn't even have a traitor's tree anymore. Arath surpressed a shudder at the strange memory of what had happened there. "Questions ... I'm sure we both have quite a few. Many things have changed here while you've been ... away." Arath frowned for a moment, then let the shield on his old mentor dissolve. "I'm willing to take your answers on faith, but you should know that your life hangs upon them. First, I need to know why you're here. Light knows we need you, but given recent events, I have to question your timing. Why are you here now, after being gone for two years?"
  16. DM Handle: (Otpelk Cainam Contact Info: Gmarasco@knology.net Character Count: 1st Character Name: Jureal Nationality: Aiel Age: 18 Physical Characteristic: Red hair, Emerald green eyes, 6’4” tall and weighs 245lbs Physical Description: Bronze skinned with traditional hair. Has a scar of two puncture marks on his left cheek from being bitten by a red adder as a small child that nearly killed him. Also on his shoulder he has a scar shaped like a triangle from a crossbow bolt. Personal History: Jureal grew up much like any other Aiel child. He was the son of the wise one (who was a dream walker and who could channel) of his hold. When he was a small boy of about seven he was playing with his friends and fell next to a Red Adder which struck him in his left cheek. His mother frantically worked to save his life and did so just barely. During the first week after he was bitten he was in and out of consciousness. The next few years he grew into a tall and strong young Aiel. He trained to be a warrior like all the other children. He dreamed of being a great warrior and a clan chief someday. When he was seventeen years old his hold left to follow the Car’a’carn to the wetlands. A couple of months after he was in the wetlands he came across a small group of bandits while he was out scouting. He attempted to approach calmly for that was what the Car’a’carn wished. One of the bandits raised his crossbow and aimed it at Jureal’s chest. Jureal immediately veiled and started to move towards the bandits. As he was rushing forward the bandit loosed the bolt. The bolt should have killed him for it was flying right at his heart but something happened that he could not explain the bolt was deflected up and into his shoulder. When he was shot the bandits charged. As the bandits ran at him the earth erupted and the next thing he knew the bandits were being flung into the surrounding trees. He leaned back against a tree and slid down it tell he was sitting. After just sitting there for what seemed like days, a small party of Aiel came running up and saw the carnage around him. They asked him what happened, and he lowered his head and explained everything he could. They noticed the wound in his shoulder and took him back to the camp to see a wise one. As the wise ones were treating him word, had spread around the camps. Word had gotten to an Asha’man about the scene of what happened and he went to investigate. The Asha’man had seen this before and knew almost immediately what it was. The one power had been used here. Jureal was in shock he had no idea what to do. He had a sinking suspicion of what he did. But since the Car’a’carn had come what was he to do? The Car’a’carn could channel the one power as well as his army of Asha’man. So what did that mean for him now? He decided to go for a walk and sort things out. As he was walking through the trees outlying the camp the Asha’man approached him. He told Jureal that he knew about his ability to channel. Jureal was very uncomfortable around the Asha’man, but he listened. The Asha’man told him that he could still serve the Car’a’carn by learning to channel. Jureal told him the honorable thing to do would be to head into the blight and die fighting his way to Shayol Ghul. And to the shock of Jureal the Asha’man said something that made Jureal pause and consider. What better way to spit in Sight Blinder's eye then to master this channeling and fight besides the Car’a’carn in the last battle? Jureal pondered this idea. He could save his honor by fighting with honor in the last battle and if he lived he could go off to die with the knowledge that he was pivotal in the defeat of the Dark One. Jureal told the Asha’man he would think on what he said and find him with his answer soon. He thought over everything. How would he handle his people who found out about him channeling? Would he feel ashamed? Would he want to dance the spears over the insult? He knew he didn’t want to harm his people. But he also knew that the way they looked at him would be harsh. He decided that he would take each situation as it called. If they came to him with honor he would respond with honor. If they came to him in shame he would show them their shame. He decided he was going to undertake this journey. For the prophecy’s said “He shall spill out the blood of those who call themselves the Aiel as water on sand, and he shall break them as dried twigs, yet the remnant of a remnant shall he save, and they shall live.”
  17. Letting the last paper flutter down into the pile, Arath slammed the folder shut with disgust and tossed it to the other side of his desk. Bloody paperwork. He couldn't think of anything he'd rather do less. Other than doing his bloody paperwork in Zarinen's quarters. That might be a little worse. At least she had better surroundings. Stifling a yawn, despite the early hour, Arath stretched out in his chair, just as the door to his office banged open. "Sir!" Surpressing annoyance, Arath turned his gaze toward the Dedicated who stood panting in the door. "One of the recruiting parties just returned." The Storm Leader's eye's narrowed, implying that there had better be something more significant to it. "They've brought someone back with them who ... they need you to deal with him." Arath frowned for a moment, wondering what could have happened on a recruiting trip that would require his attention, then pulled himself to his feet. "Show me," he commanded the Dedicated. His escort spun on his heel and took off, the Storm Leader hot on his trail. It didn't take long before the cause of the commotion became apparent. A face Arath hadn't seen in a very long time, standing among the newly returned Asha'man. Pushing away a sudden urge to snap to attention, Arath pushed forward toward Koras. “I am glad someone here remembers me, beside my brother and my mentee Eldor. Now where’s Dalinar, I will be extremely offended if he decided not to meet his old pal Koras here.” Siezing Saidin, Arath wove a shield and slammed it into place on his old mentor. Things had changed since Koras had left. Many, many things. But some things remained the same, including treatment of disserters. A certain amount of leeway was made for those who had come back of their own free will, but this didn't appear to be the situation this time. "I'm afraid Dalinar won't be able to meet with you Koras. But you can come with me. I'm sure we have a lot of things to discuss." Motioning toward the Citadel, Arath waited for Koras to make the first move before falling in behind him. He didn't mention the shielding at all. There was no need. Koras had been a Storm Leader, so he knew what was going on. Light send he had a good enough excuse for leaving like he had. "So," he said, breaking the silence of the walk, "It's certainly been a while, hasn't it?"
  18. DM Handle: KorasSendero Contact Info: Arik.Lalik@gmail.com Character Count: 0 Character Name: Koras Sendero Nationality: Cairhien Age: 31 Physical Characteristic: Eyes are icy-blue, hair is dark brown, and skin is Carihien pale. Height is medium 6’1 (or 185 cm) slim built with just a bit of muscles. Usually wears a short beard all over the face. Hair is usually trimmed. Physical Description: Koras has very distinct blue eyes, like blue within blue, bright icet. He has a look of a gangster, so people usually keep their distance. Although not very big, he’s high and well built – athletic. He wears a short 3-days beard. He tends to spit at times, and likes to smoke a pipe with brandy, so his front teeth are usually brown (unless washed with salt water). Personal History: Childhood and First BT period Lord Koras Sendero was born 31 years ago to the minor Lord Daven Sendero and the Lady Elza Sendero, in Cairhien the capitol. Since birth he was considered a troublemaker. He would beat other children including his baby brother Eron, even in kindergarten age, and was punished by his caregivers on a daily basis. Koras never had trouble in getting what he wanted, since he had the money and the influence – women, feasts and sleeping were his three favorite doings. But all this bored him. He got sick of the noble routine and at the age of 21 he joined the Black Tower (OOC: I am not sure that we exist for 10 years so correct me – anyways I joined the BT when Mazrim Taim – that was a character name - was M’hael and Dalinar was an Asha’man and it was 10 years ago – so worst case we correct Koras` age). Koras was not sure he could channel, but he wanted to be around men who could. His mentor was the legendary Asha’man Michael (OOC: Nighteyes was his wolfkin name). He reached Dedicated fast, and started to hang out with another troublemaker Zbynek. Zbynek the only dark skinned Asha’Man back then. Together they had many adventures including a visit in Tar Valon. He was raised to Asha’man soon, and skilled his One Power made spear, with an icy edge at the top. He was mediocre with sword but he would kick rear with his spear. Koras always enjoyed training newcomers. His trainings were harsh, and he invented the famous laps around the Black Tower – Koras-laps. He gave the trainees a hard time but most of them loved him in the end of it. He mentored over twenty newcomers. Koras has lead the BT forces, on attacks in the great battle against the Seanchan (I am not sure if this RP is collected in our History now so I can delete it), and rose to an Attack Leader after the battle. Reaching the Storm Leader under Dalinar’s rule was just a matter of time. The other Storm Leaders – including SL Kagato, the eldest of all said that the world would not survive Koras becoming M’hael, if anything happens to all the SLs and the current M’hael. One day he left on a recon mission trying to look for his friend Zbynek (Z). Z, his best friend, disappeared a month before that, he went to kill the Aes Sedai, or so he said, but he just disappeared. Koras assumed he died trying, although deep down, he had the feeling that one day he would find Zbynek, drunk somewhere in some ally, perhaps even in his old town of Cairhien. Leaving the BT for a quiet life Koras decided that leading the storm would eventually get him killed, before time. He decided to start a family and perhaps have children (So it wasn’t really a recon mission), before the madness will take over. He did not have signs of madness - yet, but then again, he was mad by his nature, even before channeling. He tried not to touch Saidin after leaving the BT. He naturally arrived to Arad Doman. He liked what he heard about the women there, and it was a rather anarchic and distant place near the Aryth Ocean. He had just enough supplies to reach Doman. There he came to a nice quiet village just near the Ocean, where small vineyards were kept. He offered to work for nothing other than a roof over his head and some food. The family that took him in placed him in their barn. They were a family of four – the father – Toar, the mother – Irgon and two girls Elza (like Koras` mom) – fat as a cow and Murka who was the prettiest of the village’s women. Koras decided he would marry her, but she wasn’t very cooperative, being only seventeen. He did not want to upset the parents, so he took a distance from her, and watched her grow, as he worked in the vineyards side-by-side with her. But then trouble started. It was summer of that year when Koras left the BT, and some important Domani Lord was visiting his parents who lived in the village. He fell in love with Murka as well. The Domani women did not like to hide most of their bodies, so as soon as the nobleman saw her body, through the subtle but yet revealing dresses, he knew it was love or something like that. One night as Koras was almost asleep he heard voices. “Thank you so much for escorting me from the party m’Lord”. “Oh Murka! You’re so welcome. Let us now go to the barn, and you will show me your lovely errr.. red horse”. “Oh sir, but our horse is a skinny half-dead one… surely you would rather go home now”. Koras heard voices of struggle, and the barn door cracked open. The Lord shoved Murka to the ground and started attacking her, trying to rip her clothes off. Koras was half asleep on a small second floor porch, just above the horse. He channeled. “Damn you for trying to take everything by force. What is with noblemen these days?” he said as he jumped between Murka and the Lord. “Who in the name of …” he started to say, but that was the end of him. Koras weaved Air, creating a sharp and slicing custom wind. The head was alive for three more seconds, to watch the headless body collapse next to Koras and the shocked Murka. “Fast, we need to get rid of any evidence of this” Koras said. Maybe cutting the head off wasn’t so great due to the amount of blood it produced. Koras channeled, weaving Water and Air. He lifted the blood, cleaning the area on the ground, then weaved Earth, to open the ground a bit and shoved everything, including the body, blood and head inside. Then he closed the ground as hermetically as he could. “There…” he said. Murka did not speak of this to anyone, and after three months, they were married. Murka’s father gave his consent, seeing how much Murka loved Koras since the nobleman incident. He was her savior. Koras on the other hand, liked the way Murka looked. He was not in love with her, but she was a good candidate to have children with. And so two years after Koras` departure from the BT, he was a proud father of two – a boy and a newborn girl who was born the previous winter. Toar, Murka’s dad built them a nice home, next to his own. They lived there, and knew no trouble or need, except financial need. But they say that where there’s family warmth, financial trouble was no burden. The summer of the second year brought what Koras thought was madness. He loved his wife and children, but he knew that one day he would have to leave. He wouldn’t have them killed because of his madness. He started having nightmares. He saw men he killed in the past, screaming at him, their blood covering him and his family up. His children swimming in blood, while they themselves were dying, and screaming, blood pouring out of their mouths. Koras decided he had to leave, but where to? And how would he tell it to Murka and the children? He left his legacy to this world, two great kids, whom he loved. A wife who would remember him, and be perhaps a bit mad at him, but then she’ll understand. He will explain everything to her – the madness that is the burden of Saidin channelers. She knew he was a Male Channeler, and even in Doman they knew the stories, about the mad men going on a killing spree after drinking too much of the taint. But where would he go? He wanted to be able to visit his children often. He postponed the decision, and waited to see if the madness would evolve. It was no madness, just a post- traumatic syndrome, but Koras did not know that. Men who could channel Saidin were paranoid about becoming mad – and that was what happened to Kor. One day, sitting in the village’s inn, a group of three men walked in. Koras knew right away that it was a recruitment mission for the tower. Two of the men he did not know – new pricks in the Black Tower. Nice to know that they’re still recruiting. He grinned and looked down, for him not to be seen. The third man who came a bit later, after paying the innkeeper was his ex-mentee Eldor. “Blood and ashes” he thought “this one would recognize me even if Eldor himself wouldn’t want to do so. All the Koras-laps he did years ago – he wouldn’t forget in a hundred years from now. “Hello good man” Eldor turned to the innkeeper “we need some ale to our table, make it six pints” he smiled and the men sat down. Koras turned his back towards them, and pretended that he was taking a nap. He waited for the men to fold and leave to their rooms. They will probably continue to a large city tomorrow, leaving the village and Koras… and his madness would stay here, far from the tower. He pondered whether he should join them… what would he say though? Where did he go? Did he desert the Black Tower? That would be quick death… Trial by Dalinar probably, then off goes his head. Only one of the three left, was a newbie. He was tired and Murka probably waited for him. She never went to sleep when he was not home… worrying sick for him not to get in trouble. He got up, and started to exit the room. A hand caught him. He channeled creating a small tip of ice to cover his finger, and went for the man’s eye. “Koras… don’t” he said. “How in the Dark One’s name you know my name?” Koras asked. “You… don’t recognize me… I‘ve lost some weight, and changed, grew up a bit, but… “, then the man got up. “Attacking a Dedicated is wrong Asha’man” he said “It might be considered treason” he got closer, looking at Koras straight in the eye. “Eron?” Koras smiled. “It runs in the family huh?” Koras hugged his brother. So now his brother was also in the tower… that made sense to Koras. He wasn’t called an Asha’man… for a long time. “You will have to tell me all about how you came to the tower, let us go to my house; I live nearby, and tell me about it there. My wife would love to meet you….” He said and was sorry for inviting Eron. He did not know what interests he served. Eron shook his head. “I am taking you home brother… The tower needs you. Don’t worry I won’t tell. We can say you ended up here… for whatever reasons you’ve had to leave. You are a legend in the tower. It took me only six months to become Dedicated, because I am Kor’s brother.” The madness was approaching Koras, and now an opportunity came to return, to reunite with his brother. When he was younger he couldn’t stand being around his brother. Eron was so neat and well behaved. Koras thought he was boring and snobbish. And now Eron grew up to become a nice looking, strong man. He was 28 by now. “How’re mother and father?” Koras has asked. “I will update you on the way back.” Eron was sure Koras was coming back. He considered running away. But he stayed nevertheless. “Why in the name of the Dragon, you think I would come back to this mad hole you call the Black Tower?” Koras asked. But he knew he would. He missed the missions. He missed channeling on a daily basis, he missed the action. He wanted to train men. Teach them about the strengths and weaknesses of Saidin, turn boys into men. You should have never left, said a voice in his head. “The times have changed Kor. We are in a much worse situation than when it was in your time. The recruitment is escalating, men died in battles and we lost some to the madness but the tower has grown into a small city now. Join us. Return to the farm, we need good men. Tarmon Gai’don is coming closer. No one has to know anything” Eron said. His brother was persuasive. Or did Koras want to be persuaded? Eron continued telling Koras the news for about an hour more. Koras nodded at the end of Eron’s speech. He was proud of his brother. Becoming this man, that Koras wasn’t sure he himself was. “I will need to pack. Tell Eldor that I came into the inn after he left, we will tell him that I lived here tracking a friend of the shadow. We will tell him that this Darkfriend killed Asha’Man Zbynek. Tell him I have recently killed the Darkfriend. Tell him I went home to pack, but be quiet about my wife… I am a father now you know. Shai’tan knows what can happen to them if the tower finds out about it”. Eron was shocked. Perhaps at the fact that Koras was a family man now. Or perhaps it was because Asha’man did not marry women. Eron nodded. “Come here by dawn, we’re leaving then” Eron said and climbed up the stairs to his room. Koras returned home. Murka was not asleep. She was worried, and got even more worried when she saw the look on his face. “I’ve met my brother at the inn. The Black Tower needs me now. The wheel weaves… you know. I told you everything before. The madness is near” he took a sip of his favorite brandy that waited for him by the fire. “I love you dear, you know that” he said. He updated her on things that he discussed with his brother. Her eyes went wide. “I knew you would leave one day dear” she said. No tears. The Domani women were strong. “Tell Tomas and Rasha about their father when they will grow up. They’re too young to understand. Who knows maybe I will not get mad, and old, and return? Right now, I have to leave for their safety. Tell your parents I went off to find a place to work somewhere in Doman. To make an extra dime, and return in a year”. It was common in Arad Doman, for villagers to go look for work in the bigger cities. “They will not believe us, it is too sudden” Murka said. “Well think of something dear”. He told her the location of the tower. Although he believed that the less you know, the less are your chances of getting killed. But he wanted her to know just in case. “You can’t come along dear. It is too risky. I agree with my brother, the Tarmon Gai’don is near. I can feel it in my bones. And after we win, I will come back I promise. You know that if anyone survives it would be me”. They said their goodbyes and Koras left at first light, after kissing his sleeping children goodbye. Eldor grinned as he saw Koras. “Eron here told us your story. Great job dumb-nut! One Darkfriend less in Doman, but a thousand more in Andor, that we need to kill. Where the heck have you been?” he hugged Koras. Koras smiled. “I see that my mentee is doing great. Leading recruitment missions was never easy; they’ve always chosen the best for this job”. And then they rode. And rode some more. They visited two more cities in Doman, and recruited three more newbies. The Black Tower awaited him in silence. Koras took a deep breath and tried to get ready to meet his destiny.
  19. Bio of Leyrann Therian Name: Leyrann Therian Hair colour: Blond Eye colour: Blue Build: average, but some inches (two, maybe three) taller than most Andorans From: Caemlyn Age: 20 In 979 NE, Leyrann was born in a small family. He has one younger sister and one younger brother. In spring 999 NE, his younger sister, being 17 at that point, leaves their home and travels to Tar Valon, hoping she is able to channel. Leyrann, who has just heard of the Asha’man, also wants to channel. His parents forbid him, but when they weren’t home, he wrote a note and left his home. Because he had no horse, he just went walking from Caemlyn to Tear. After more than a month, at the first day of the Feast of Lights, he arrived in Tear. He walked to the first Asha’man he saw, and asked him to do the test. The Asha’man said he didn’t have time then, but if Leyrann could come to a certain inn the next morning, he could be tested. The next morning he went there, and three Asha’man were in the main room. One of them was the Asha’man he met the day before. This Asha’man said he should come a bit closer, and then he told what he was going to do to test him. He would make a small flame, and Leyrann had to concentrate on it. After wondering where in Tear the Asha’man lived, Leyrann concentrates on the flame. After what seemed like hours, the Asha’man let the flame disappear. And he told Leyrann was able to learn! When Leyrann asked if it always took this long, the Asha’man said it only took twelve minutes, and that Leyrann was fast. Then they went to the Stone, to a chamber without any furniture, and the Asha’man created something. A golden line, splitting, and making a portal or so to another place. The Asha’man walked through, and Leyrann followed. Then the Asha’man told Tear was not the real place where the Asha’man lived. They lived at a place they call “the Farm”. Then Leyrann asks where this place was, and the Asha’man said: “Near Caemlyn.” A bit irritated it was this close to his home, Leyrann walked further, and entered the Black Tower for the first time.
  20. DM Handle: Aemon Contact Info: acadfael[at]gmail[dot]com Character Count: My first one Character Name: Flynn Mantlear Nationality: Andoran Age: 19 Physical Characteristics: Green eyes, brown hair, 5’10’’ tall Physical Description: From his work as a carpenter’s apprentice, he is lean with a decent amount of muscle, thought nothing out of the ordinary. His demeanor is usually light of heart and casual, able to joke easily and is happy to meet new people. Recently though, with the discovery of his…”gifts” he is much more reserved and brooding than he once was, often quiet and not quite meeting people’s eyes. Personal History: Flynn grew up in a small Andoran farming village near Four Kings. His father, the town’s carpenter, was rather well known in the area near their village for the quality of his goods and has been teaching Flynn his craft since he was small. His mother was a typical country wife, taking care of house and children (and her husband, though he would say different). Flynn has one younger brother, Elam, who is eleven summers old. The two are close, and have spent much more time together lately now that Elam has begun learning their father’s craft as well. Flynn had assumed that he would grow up to be the next village carpenter, and that the most interesting thing in his life would be an occasional trip to Caemlyn to sell some of his finer wares and browse the markets there. Fate did not quite have that in store for him, however. While working in the shop one day, only a week ago now, his brother had stumbled while carrying a large handful of wooden boards to put away. While doing so, he knocked a lantern off the table, shattering it and throwing the oil about the shop. Needless to say there was plenty to catch fire in the home of a carpenter, and the blaze was quickly out of control. Flynn dashed from the burning shop, seeking aid and assuming his brother was right behind him. Once he began to look around, however, he realized Elam was nowhere in sight. With a curse, Flynn threw himself back into the building seeking his brother. It is still hard for him to remember exactly what happened in the next few minutes, but the villagers watching told him that at almost the same moment Flynn had returned to the building, the flames had gone out…..all at once. On top of that, he has carried his brother out a few moments later, with not a scratch on the boy. Flynn found that part the most interesting…and terrifying. The one thing he could remember is that there had been a good many burning boards trapping the boy to the floor. At first the villagers were overjoyed, none more so than Flynn and his family. However, even though the villagers had started to claim that the event had been a miracle, there were a few who whispered darker ideas, that perhaps Flynn had done something of his own to save his brother. It was not until a week later that the man in the dark coat came to Flynn’s house to speak with him and his father. He had a strange pin attached to his collar and had heard rumors regarding the incident with the lamp at the village inn. A short discussion and a short test later, he and his family were in tears…..he could channel. He was one of the accursed men doomed to die and go insane. He wasn’t sure what was worse, his certain fate, or the fact that his family couldn’t decide between tears and pity for him, or revulsion. He could tell, they were stricken all right, crying and arguing that this just couldn’t be, but never once could they really look at him, really hold his eye. He was given an offer by the black-coated man, and he took it. He would go to this “farm” of theirs. He wasn’t sure if he could bring himself to learn more about this thing, this curse, but at least he would be far away from his family, far enough not to hurt them….he hoped.
  21. Arath hated linking. At least, he hated the process of linking. Putting himself on the brink of Saidin without touching it would be difficult at the best of times, he was sure. As it happened, that brink was where the taint rested. For the couple of seconds he waited for Zarinen to link with him, he felt only the foulness of the taint, without the sweetness of Saidin. After those first moments were passed it became bearable again, but it was not a process he enjoyed in the slightest. A few moments later, he felt Zarinen shift control of the link to him, and he had to fight the instinctive urge to fight Saidar. It was difficult, but manageable. "So what is it you wanted to show me?" Reaching up to his collar, Arath unfastened his silver sword pin, showing it to the Red. "What I did, I had no intention of doing. I stumbled across it almost by accident. I have ... an unusual talent. Something I hear has been lost for a long time. Several months ago, I created this. I'm not quite sure what I did wrong, but it never worked as intended. It was supposed to be an angreal. I thought I had reasoned out how to create one, and so I gave it a shot. I made a mistake somehow. It functions more or less like an angreal, but it has the reverse effect. Instead of making me stronger, it weakens me. It steal about a quarter of my strength. It also puts a little more strain on me, and makes me grow tired much faster. It's like drinking a glass of water through your cloak. However ... it does have its benefits." Letting the link dissolve, Arath fastened the pin back on his collar. "You felt the taint? How all invasive it is? Well this time, draw on Saidin through this, like you would an angreal." Zarinen looked skeptical, but she seemed curious to see this through. Placing himself on the brink again, Arath kept his eyes firmly fixed on her face. He felt Saidin rush through him again, though not as strong as it had before. Within seconds he began to sweat and breathe harder, the strain of the connection taking a toll on his body. But the taint was gone. Zarinen's eyes widened, and Arath forced a smile through his discomfort. "You see? It can be beaten. Light blind me if I know how, but there IS a way to get rid of it."
  22. Arath arrived at the barn that Ragnar had appropriated as quickly as he could. Which meant he was very late. By the time he slipped in the door, the other Asha'man was already beginning work in front of the assembled students. Some of them looked bored, though a number of them were quite interested. There had been a strangely high number of men arrive recently who had a background in smith work, and many of them were in attendance today. Maybe a few of them would have Ragnar's talent for shaping metal. Most wouldn't, but perhaps a few. Noticing Skechid standing quietly to the side, Arath walked over to join the other Storm Leader, taking care to avoid the notice of the students. He'd rather they focus on the lesson than worry about the officers. "Did I miss much?" he said softly, keeping his voice low enough to not carry. He watched intently as Ragnar worked, taking careful note of the weaves being manipulated. Fire, earth, spirit ... traces of air and water at times ... As a smith himself, Arath understood most of the "why's", it was simply the "how's" that eluded him. Manufacturing ter'angreal was a tricky bit of work, and seemed to go by a different set of rules than conventional smithing. Ragnar's talent with metals wasn't the same as Arath's own talent with ter'angreal, but Arath was confident that there was a significant amount of overlap which they could learn from eachother. It was simply a matter of figuring it out. A puzzle which Arath looked forward to solving.
  23. Arath watched all of the matched pairs in their respective duels, taking note of the winners in each case. He paid most of his attention to Gavin and Baran, since they seemed the most likely to do something foolish. Indeed, it looked as though Gavin had deliberately avoided breaking his shield until Baran had done so. The fool. Arath had also taken note of Baran's impressive fire weave. It was a deadly weave to be sure, but it had a very limited range, and surely Gavin wouldn't be fool enough to step inside of his range without disrupting the weave first. A cry from one of the other pairs drew his attention away from the more interesting duel. The fool with the mace had managed a lucky swing, and despite the cushioning weave on his weapon, he had shattered the collarbone of his opponent. It was a nasty looking break, but nothing that couldn't be repaired easily by the Healers. Confiscating both weapons, he sent the injured man off to the infirmary, his sparring partner escorting him there. No sooner was that done, then a power amplified voice rang out, calling for him. As it turned out, Gavin WAS foolish enough to step inside Baran's fiery weave. He tried to protect himself by encasing his body in rock, then flinging his prison away. And he'd managed to crush a number of his bones in the process. Bloody wonderful. Siezing Saidin, Arath began several weaves. The first, Travelling, to the emergency travelling room of the infirmary. The second, a weave of air wrapped firmly around Gavin's body, lifting him from the ground, but keeping him immobilized. In a matter of moments, he was deposited onto a bed, and some of the best healers in the world began their work. Satisfied that the fool boy was in good hands, Arath turned around and went back through his gateway, where Baran was still waiting. "I believe I specifically instructed you all to not injure yourself or your partner. Care to explain what happened?"
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