OOC: Damn, I can never remember this thread for some reason.  Sorry.

IC:  Arath nodded and arose from the table.  His meal could wait a while he supposed.  Motioning for Sereth to follow him, he walked out the front door and began pointing out the sights.

"The inn here is sort of the center of our social lives here.  Not a whole lot else to do but drink your worries away.  Always very busy."

The sound of an explosion drew their attention from across the grounds.  Walking a short way, Arath pointed toward the large open field where soldiers and dedicateds stood, decimating earthen practice dummies by the dozens under the instruction of the Asha'man.  "That is where you'll be spending the majority of your time, practicing with Saidin.  There is always plenty of supervision, so you don't have to worry too much about anyone going mad on you.  If it happens, the lost one is put down quickly.  We can't afford many losses.

"The soldier barracks," he continued, motioning to a long, plain looking building, "is where you will be staying for the time being.  You'll move to the dedicated barracks," he pointed to an slightly larger but equally plain building a short distance beyond, "when you advance to that rank.  If you are assigned a mentor who already has a house," he said waving in the general direction of the majority of the Asha'man homes, "he may have you stay in his home to ease training."

The tour lasted only a few minutes more, with Arath pointing out the other necesary buildings and services of the tower.  At the conclusion, Arath opened up a gateway to the traveling room of his own home and waved Sereth through.  A few minutes later he had found a suitable black coat and presented it to the new soldier.  "Anything else you wish to know before you get started?"

Arath considered her question for a moment.  His opinion about Aes Sedai?  "Usually the Red Ajah speaks for the Aes Sedai in general as far as the Asha'man are concerned.  There's an understandable distrust there, as I'm sure you would agree. 

"Personally, I never thought much about it.  I would simply have avoided all contact with the Aes Sedai in order to keep things simple.  I met one of your sisters in Illian, and we didn't get along too well.  Neither of us trusted the other very much." That was quite the understatement.  He was certain that Arette would have had him gentled at the first available opportunity if given a chance.

"Really, I don't think things have changed much lately.  It's hard to get past two thousand years of bias in just a matter of days.  Especially when we get to see how our 'guests' can wriggle around any oath or promise.  We've even seen them rationalize their way out of direct orders.  It's very hard to trust them."

So many new BTer's all of a sudden . . . how exciting! ;D

DM Handle: Tigara

Email: tigara@look.ca

Character Count: (In this division) 1

Character Name: Ikkiliad sur Paendrag

Age: 27

Place of birth/raising: Mayene

Physical Appearance: Ikkiliad is about 5’3” and 105 pounds. He is slender as a reed, but decently muscled, mostly in the chest area. He has jet black hair about shoulder length tied to the back in a short ponytail except for two strands of bangs at the sides that frame his face. His skin is halfway between fair and honey-brown, so most call it a strong tan. He has dark brown eyes, almost dark enough to be called black. He wears round glasses with a very thin wire frame that balance on his very narrow nose. His lips are thin and almost always in an intrigued smile.

History: Ikkiliad, known often as Ikki, was born to a Mayenish father and a Cairheinin mother. His father was part of the Royal line of Mayene, but the branch was so small, that the only way for Ikki to gain the throne was for everyone else in the Royal family to die except for his two sisters and one brother, who were younger than he. His mother was also of a Cairheinin noble house, but it was also very small and only exists because of its close relations to House Damodred. Ikki was born a sickly child, being very weak and hardly able to walk. So he spent most of his time indoors as a child studying. One day when Ikki was 12, an Aes Sedai of the Yellow Ajah was in Mayene. The Yellow went around to all the towns and cities Healing people who needed it. She felt that was the best way to use her abilities. While there, Ikki was brought to her and he was Healed. He became much stronger, but still was very thin. He decided that he preferred reading and being indoors over being outdoors, so he became a scholar and an apprentice historian. With his thinness, his fingers were very nimble and he quickly picked up on playing the harp, which became his favorite pastime.

He heard news of the infamous “Black Tower” where men went to learn to channel. Being a historian, he was naturally intrigued and decided to go live there to record all of the happenings for the later generations. So he packed up some belongings and sailed to Tear, then up to Aringill, then traveled by cart to the Black Tower. He told his story and purpose to the Asha’man and they let him stay. They thought it to be a good idea to have a written history by a professional. During a session with one of the more experienced Asha’man, relating stories from the earliest days of the Black Tower. The Asha’man decided to test him, just to check. Ikki was reluctant to try, saying he was content as he was, but he did try. That was when he found out that he could learn how to channel. He almost decided he didn’t want to learn, didn’t want to go mad, but his educated side told him that he could learn much to go in books by channeling, so he agreed to go into training. This is where his journey begins.

Name: Konan Loughlin

Age: 17

Hair: Light brown

Eyes:  Deep shades of blue and green

Height: 6'3

Body type: Normal/slim/semi-muscular

Weight: 165 lbs

Nation of Origin: Father and mother from Far Madding

Status: Son to a captain, and owner of an inn, works with the local healer and on his father's ship.

Hobbies/interests: Cooking, thinking, reading, writing, trading, playing the violin, studies, stones, the ladies of Far Madding, some sciences, Aes Sedai, Trollocs-Mydrall-things out of "legend", boats, rivers-lakes-ocean, working with herbs, fascinated with magic and only wishes men could truly channel, swimming. 

Habits: Plays with his hands when thinking, laughs things off, loves to argue, semi loose temper, touchy about his honor and that of his friends and family, tries to play in Daes Dae'mar, tends to clean when others think its not needed, wearing blue, forgetful, staring at nothing when thinking, quick thinker, has a difficult time admitting he's wrong, never cries in public… except for bellow, kind hearted most of the time, can become very selfish. 

Bio:

Konan and his father Glynn set sail, no more than five days gone from Far Madding, docking in Illian.  Konan finished in the docking and set of with Leith, Konan's childhood friend who went everywhere with Konan.  The two did everything together. They both worked at Konan's inn stationed in Far Madding, and on Glyn's ship.  They traveled everywhere together, studied together, enjoyed the same kinds of things, but had some differences to keep things interesting. 

On this day the two were on their way to a quaint inn out of the many drunk and festive ones ranging throughout all Illian.  When the two entered, everything was as the day they first entered that respectable inn.  The three Sillerian sisters where cleaning, dusting, and mopping anything they could get their hands on.  Rich smells vested from the kitchens, and the place had a cozy warm feeling to it.  The only oddity this time around was that Master Sillerian, in inn keeper, was talking with a black coated man in the corner, his hands cleaning one of his favorite sea folk proclaim cups.  The two came over to greet the innkeeper, taking in the man in black standing before them.  Konan recognized the sword and dragon on the man's collar immediately, eyes widening in fear and awe at meeting such a man here, seeing a similar sense of surprise upon Leith's face as well.

The two soon learned the Asha'man was recruiting men for the black tower's ranks of channelers and soldiers.  He was searching willing men to be tested for the black coats.  The two young boys immediately pleaded to be tested for the chance to be something so grand.  Out of the two Konan could channel, yet Leith would never be able to so much as sense the True Source.  Konan was ordered to meet the black coat at this inn in two days as he would be returning to the black tower, and that Konan had no choice, for whether or not he chose Konan would one day channel on his own. 

In those two days, Konan and Leith bar themselves in their room together.  Only oppeining the doors early in the morning for breakfast, and late mid day for supper. Konan and Leith had stayed in had stayed in the room since after they had learned Konan was leaving.  The two stated that they were "becoming prepared to not see each other for a very long time."  On the second day the two finally came out, tired, weary eyed, with tears still streaking down their faces.  Konan spent as long as he could the rest of his day with Glynn and Leith as he could, buying provisions that he may need for his long journey. 

The group arrived at the black-coat's inn near lunch time.  The innkeeper said that he was in his room and was expecting them.  The small group, nocked on the man's door, to be greated in and told that they were leaving as soon as he got his horse ready.  Konan took this time to say his last farewells to his father and best friend.  The Asha'man came riding up to the front of the inn where Konan waited with his own horse and gear. 

"Time to go boy."  The black-coat said, calm faced and ready to go, yet still at that point were he seemed like he could move at the drop of a pin.  Konan turned one last time to his father, hugged him and said farwell.  The young boys turned to each other, staring and crying, knowing what was about to happen.  The two boys embraced one another, one last time and kissed each other's cheeks farwell. Konan went with the black-coated man down the main road, as Leith followed with his eyes, until the two turned around a corner in Illian and disappeared.

Riding hard for nearly an hour, Konan thinking that the man leading him had no sense about horses if this is how he began.  But once near ten miles from Illian, in a thick wood, the Asha'man pulled rane, and dismounted next to a tree that seemed to have been split in two by a thunderbolt.  Yet what the black-coat did, was nothing Konan would have ever dreamed of.  A whole tall enough for a horse to walk through opened where the tree lay, and opened into a what appeared to be the inside of a pavillion. 

The man pulls his horse through and motions for Konan to follow, "But be carfull of the edges boy, they can still slice as they did this tree here." As he moved through the open whole into the pavillion.  Konan entered cautiously, and then exited the pavillion along with the Asha'man, into a large open area outside, sprinkled with black dressed servants, and more black coated men like the man who recrutied Konan.  The Black Tower. 

            Now Konan is a devoted decipal of the black tower.  He tries everything that he possibly can to learn quicker, to become stronger, and to be a better channeler. 

            Konan still dreams of home, and cant wait till he gets to send letters back to Leith, his sister Lily, and the rest of his family. 

Bah, I feel so stupid.  Turns out there were 2 bios in the mailbox, and the OTHER guy had the issues.  I already posted yours for CC and it appears to be done.

I so blame the taint . . .

Anywho, you're good to go.  Get ahold of Jocelyn and she'll help you with OP scores and then you can start the real fun.

DM Handle:Khorja

Character Name: Baethen Doverell

Age:30

Place of birth/raising: Murandy - Lugard

Physical Appearance: Baethen is of average height, slightly overweight from living a soft life.  His hair is dark, with natural curls of reddish-brown framing a friendly oval face.  Hazel eyes and a jovial smile make it easy to trust him.

History:

Being the only son of a very wealthy merchant, Baethen grew up pampered but not spoiled.  His father insisted that Baethen learned to read, write, and manage financial books so he would be prepared to run the business he would inherit once his father passed on.  Baethen was a smart and ready learner, and from a young age he knew that all he wanted was to be a successful man like his father, if not more so.  He was well-liked and made many friends with the boys who lived nearby, but he had difficulty getting a sweetheart when he grew to marrying age.  Young women liked his charm but always seemed to end up with the slimmer, fitter boys.  Baethen didn't mind much--his life was devoted to helping his father manage the business.  He had no time to grieve when his father died in an accident involving one of wagons he was inspecting, for Baethen was still only 23 and suddenly the owner of the large business.  Besides, his relationship with his father had always been more like that of business partners than father and son.

Only a year after inheriting the business and the small fortune that came with it, Baethen met and married a young, pretty girl named Aby.  They adored each other, despite the fact that many folks were convinced Aby only married Baethen because of his wealth.  Baethen was very happy with Aby.  She replaced the business as his love in life, and he was as devoted to her as he had been to running his father's business.  For some reason or another, they were unable to conceive a child, but Baethen and Aby didn't mind.  They were happy enough with just the two of them in their little family.

Then, Aby got sick.  She woke one morning complaining of a headache, and by noon she was delirious with fever.  Panicked, Baethen sent for the best healer he knew of, paying the woman copious amounts of money to administer to his wife.  The healer's remedies didn't work.  Baethen sat at Aby's side the whole night as she thrashed and moaned and eventually fell into a fitful slumber.  The next morning, she would not wake.  Her breathing was labored and nobody knew what was wrong with her.  Terrified, Baethen ordered his servants to find an Aes Sedai.  Maybe one of them could heal his beloved wife.  Baethen's family had never liked the witches from Tar Valon, but Baethen knew that if anything could save his Aby, it would be the One Power.

Aby died before an Aes Sedai could be found.  The weeks following her death were a blur for Baethen.  His cousin was summoned to handle the business while Baethen grieved.  Baethen was numb.  He only ate when the servants put food before him, and he only left the house on occasion, wandering the streets listlessly.  Life had no purpose for him any more.  He could devote his life to his business again because it felt so meaningless without Aby.  He failed to save her.  His money hadn't been enough to save her. His efforts hadn't been enough to save her. *He* hadn't been enough to save her.  So he wandered the streets as if looking for something, for some reason to live.  It was then that he heard some market goers discussing the Asha'man.

Asha'man!  Men who could wield the One Power!  Baethen froze, eyes wide with the sudden idea in his head.  The One Power could have saved his Aby, but he didn't have the power to use it.  He decided then that he would never be powerless again.  He would seek out the Asha'man, join their ranks and learn the power that could have saved his wife.  The prospect of going mad didn't matter to him.  He had already lost everything when Aby died, what did he care if he lost his mind, too?  That night he wrote a letter for his cousin, saying that the business was now his to own.  Baethen gave no explanation but, "I am leaving, now."  And that morning, he left, taking only enough money to get him to his destination. 

Heh . . . I checked that email about half an hour before you sent that in it seems.  I'm reading it as we speak.  I'll have it up for CC within the hour.

Thanks for your patience!

Edit:  I sent you an email concerning a tiny problem with the bio.  As soon as you resubmit it I'll post it for CC.

Despite the casual subject line, I'm here with a question!

Among all of the sisters 'visiting' the Black Tower at the moment, do any of them have the create ter'angreal talent?  Or happen to have studied ter'angreal to some degree.  It may be birds and fishes and all, but Arath (and his create talent) could use a little help with some of his projects, preferably from someone with a little more experience in the matter.

If nobody has, thats okay too.  Serena gets to be his guinea pig for ter'angreal testing :D

WK = Wolfkin

CC'd = Cross Checked

So yeah, you're CC'd and ready to go.

And in the BT, our most merciful and powerless ;) M'Hael is Illianer.  But methinks he's the only one.  Still, that can be fun.

Drex was glad to see a familiar face, even if Damon did remember that infuriating nickname.  "Argentina actually.  And it wasn't bad.  A little trouble toward the end . . . but I liked it.  You should see some of the girls in La Plata . . ."

“Hey, Mouse! Let’s go get some lunch!  I’m starving!  I need my strength, ‘cause I’ve got a meeting with Dr. Evil this afternoon."  Another guy that Drex was sure he'd never seen before walked up, apparently speaking to Damon.  "Hi, I’m Mat. Are you hungry?”

Arath appraised the athletic looking newcomer for a moment than shook his extended hand.  "Drex.  And nah, I just ate.  But I've got nothing better to do so why not?"

The little group headed down the hallway toward the cafeteria.  "Dr. Evil huh?  I suppose you're talking about the councilor from hell?  Bernes?  She spent the better part of my freshman year trying to convince me that she was 'my friend'.  Kinda creepy.  So what did you do to grab her attention?"  Come to think of it, she would probably want to see him before long too.  News had a way of traveling quickly, even halfway around the world.  Coming home right after the 'suicide' of a fellow student would be more than enough for her to hit him with a dozen counciling sessions.

Esyndor stared blankly at the tall man for a moment.  After all of that the man seemed to care more about his being a blacksmith than his family being murdered.  Bloody Aiel, he thought.  Better off trying to understand an Aes Sedai.

As he walked out of the tent and was steered toward another area of the camp, he wondered about this interesting turn of events.  At least I'm not dead.  Yet.  When they arrived at the makeshift forge area, Cor explained the situation to another tall Aiel who wore a blacksmith's apron.  The man listened for a moment, eyeing Esyndor all the while, then laughed as though Cor had told him a great joke.

"Tell me wetlander," said the Aiel smith, "what needs to be done to this blade."  He handed Esy an unfinished dagger and waited expectantly.

Esy turned the blade over in his hands, testing the balance and peering intently at the surface of the steel.  Running his fingers lightly over the blade he found it.  A tiny flaw that would cause problems when the blade was put under any stress.  "There's a flaw in the metal about an inch above the hilt.  Any stress from twisting or any excessive pressure at all will cause it to snap there.  It might be possible to save it, but I would probably scrap it and start over.  You could make two more in the time it would take to fix that one."

The Aiel smith scowled and snatched the dagger from Esyndor's hands.  He examined the blade thoroughly and grimaced as he found the minute fracture Esyndor had pointed out.  Placing the tip of the blade between a grinding stone and a workbench, he gave it a sharp twist.  Just as Esy had said, the blade fractured with a resounding crack, leaving the hilt and a jagged inch of blade in the other smith's hand.

OOC:  Sorry this took so long.  Test him however else you want.  It's fun :)

"By all means."  Arath was a little intrigued by her asking.  He had simply assumed that she would seat herself like most Aes Sedai he had met.  Drawing on pure Saidin through the interesting little angreal, he pulled a chair from the wall and slid it behind her, nodding at her to sit.  "I'd offer you something to drink, but I just finished this house.  I still don't have many of the comforts of home here."

Settling back into his seat, he mulled over what she had said while turning the statuette over in his hands.  "The current situation.  Diplomatic way to phrase it I suppose.  Regretable at any rate. I haven't had a decent nights sleep since then.  Serena can be . . . irritable at times." Arath tried unsuccessfully to surpress a smile.  Serena seemed to look for reasons to stay angry at everyone.

"I assume you have some specific questions you'd like answered.  I have a few things I would like to ask you as well, if you don't mind?"

Arath sat behind his desk, examining the figurine in his hands; a small silver man carrying a large shield.  Where had he gone wrong with it?  Maybe if he-

A sharp rap at his front door broke his concentration.  Rubbing his neck as he stood, he moved to answer the door, sort of glad for the break.  He tended to get lost in his projects lately.  If he could just get it right ...

Sereth, one of the newest Soldiers was waiting on the other side of the door.  "I'm here with Annias Aes Sedai, her guide around the Black Tower. She asked if there was anyone she should talk to, so I brought her here. Also, I'd like to stay. If not while you talk to her directly, to practice in your yard. It would be an inconvenience for her to have to find another guide."

Arath nodded at the Soldier.  "My students should be out back working on shields.  I'll let you know if we need you."  Sereth nodded in acknowldgement and wandered off to the other side of the house.  Arath held open the door and allowed the Aes Sedai to pass.  Not much was said as he led the way to his study.  He supposed this had something to do with Serena, who mercifully was not in the house at the moment. 

"So then," Arath said as he sat at his desk and picked up the statuette again.  "What can I do for you Annais Sedai?" 

OOC:  Sorry this took so long.  Real life's been crazy busy.

  Name:  Gale Nalineo

  Age:  23

  Weight:  190ish lbs

  Height:  5'11"

  Nation of origin:  Illian, capital city.

  Description:  Typical Illianer. Bare upper lip, broad shoulders, better gait on ship then on actual land. Dark brown hair cut short, brown eyes.

  Ability stuff:  Pretty good with ship-related activities and quite good at holding his liquor. As for the killing and the channeling, not so much just yet.

  Bio:

Gale Nalineo was born to his mother and father during a rather ferocious storm off the cost of Illian. The name, then, made sense at the time but has forever given the man a slight disadvantage when it came to teasing, as gale and gal are but a letter apart. But that do no disrupt this fellow from proving his worth as a man and making a life for himself.

For the last five years, he’s worked as a deck hand for a small trading vessel. There, he’s made a number of companions worthy of the term friend – mostly because they managed to get each other in a great deal of trouble when left to themselves on shore leave. In retrospect, it may not have been the wisest of ideas to go get themselves tested for the ability to channel when they were allowed a night’s respite in Tear. But, when that strong Tairen ale enters the system it is quite hard to say no, even when the idea is downright foolish.

It was then, that Gale found himself with three of his chums staring down a man in a black coat -  a man that just told a very drunk Gale that, of the four of them, he was the only one able to channel the male half of the One Power.  To the stunned surprise of his friends, and indeed to Gale (who found this news sobered him up rather nicely, as well it might), he found he had a choice ahead of him: to serve the Dragon Reborn with his ability or to go back to a life of drinking and slaving away on a ship when the world may very well be destroyed tomorrow.

He chose the former.

And Gale has been regretting it ever since.

I guess I can take a shot at this.  Something out of the ordinary for me.  My activity is a little limited because my flaming, goat-kissing computer refuses to come back to life, but I'm still able to post.

Arath took in the story with thoughtful silence.  This was an interesting situation.  He had never seen Tai so upset before, even despite all the teasing he had recieved at the hands of Drak.  The man's enthusiasm was exceeded only by his patience.  Yet this Dazar'sei it seemed had almost gone to and early grave at Tai's hand. 

Truthfully, Arath was more inclined to side with Tai'Dashan.  He at least appeared apologetic about the incident.  Dazar seemed livid, though oddly it seemed he was more upset about the fact that a 'commoner' had treated him like that, rather than the fact that he had been beaten by the one power.  An arrogant fool of a noble. 

Rubbing his forehead with a sigh, Arath finally spoke.  "You," he said, indicating the still steaming Dazar'sei, "are a fool.  Walking brazenly into the home of the Asha'man and acting like this.  You may be a noble in Shienar, but here that means absolutely nothing."  Dazar looked as though he was about to protest, but wisely remained silent at Arath's glare.  "Tai'Dashan is your superior in this place and you had best not forget that.  I suspect that the only reason you weren't reduced to a pile of ashes is your shared blood.

"And you," he said, rounding on Tai'Dashan, "should know better.  If you had a problem with him, you should have brought it to me instead of storming off and leaving him stranded like that.

"Now then.  You two are going to follow me inside to my study.  I have ... had ... something in there for you Tai.  But now we'll have to discuss what to do with the both of you."

Turning around without a second glance at either of them, Arath strode off toward his front door.  This was turning out to be an interesting morning.

So focused was he on trying to help those below that Arath almost didn't notice the stream of fire bearing down upon them.  Only Arette's warning yell and practice honed reflexes let him raise a shield of air and fire in time.  Several of the other Asha'man and Dedicated did the same as the massive barrage of fireballs erupted against the shields.  The heat wave washed over them, almost stifling in its intensity, but they were mercifully safe from the deadly blasts.

Arath was therefore surprised when Arette dropped to the ground pointing and screaming.  For a brief moment everyone simply stared at her, wondering what was wrong.  Then he felt it.  Or almost didn't feel it.  The prickly sensation of Saidar was nearly completely vanished.  If Arette was holding the power, it was by only the faintest degree.  Comprehension dawned on him rapidly as he connected the dots in his mind and lashed out with fire and spirit.  He felt the weave connect with the invisible shield and sever it.  Even as the Aes Sedai sighed in relief, Arath redirected his attention to where the attacks had come from.  A lone woman was unleashing hell upon the forces fighting below, raining fire and lightning indiscriminately on all. 

Time seemed to freeze for a while as Arath laid his eyes upon the Forsaken.  He he always imagined that seeing such a being would be a horrific, terrifying experience.  But she appeared ... well ... normal.  Another channeler.  Strong, but not unbeatable.  Just as capable of death as all those she murdered below. 

"Asha'man!" he called to all those surrounding him.  "Unleash!"  The air filled with fire again, this time flowing away from the forces of the Light and raining down on a more fitting target.  But fireballs melted out of the air, cut to pieces before arriving.  Other's exploded harmlessly before coming anywhere near.  And a few flame arrows appeared to have their paths redirected midflight. 

Amidst the fiery chaos, Arath picked his weave carefully.  A mistake was likely to kill him.  But if it worked, it might just be a swift end to this light forsaken battle.  Heavy weaves of air, earth and fir coiled through the air around him in a tight pattern, causing his hair to tingle with static.  Timing was everything here.  Hurriedly he prepared the channel of air and fire and then-

Several flashes of silver-white light streaked out of the sky toward the weaves centered around the Attack Leader.  With a yell and a tremendous push with Saidin, all of those bolts of lightning were re-directed outward in one incredibly powerful bolt which screamed across the empty space between him and the forsaken. 

Temporarily blinded by the intense flash of light, Arath only heard the explosion as the bolt impacted; felt the stone chips rain down upon him and the others.  Blinking rapidly he tried to clear his vision.  Was it over?  Had his foolish attack worked, or merely angered the powerful enemy?

Arath Faringal

Only too happy to help :D

Most likely to have their words twisted/misunderstood: Arath

And I agree about Linten.  Kind of twisted for a good guy ...

Arath knew he shouldn't laugh at the rivalry between his mentee's, but it was hard not too.  Especially with Drak trying so hard to get under Tai's skin.  But soon enough the banter died down enough to get the serious work rolling.  Once the general shape of the downstairs had been carved out, they set to work smoothing and fire hardening the walls.  Tai seemed happier with this, since it didn't require nearly so much strength in earth to do so and he was better able to keep up.  Drak thankfully was wise enough to not mess around with fire weaves.  Especially with his eratic strength in that element.  An accident could be all too easy.

In short order, the basement of the new home was completed.  A quick break and a few minutes later they began to set a framework for the rest of the house.  Arath gave each of his mentee's their orders.  "Drak, you'll help me to raise support pillars at these points," he said, indicating the spots on the floor plans.  "Tai, you start on the wall frames.  It shouldn't take very long using the power.  Just use air to cut any beams that need it and fasten them together like it says here."  Arath grinned.  "And make sure nothing falls on Drak.  Stones seem to have a way of seeking out his head from high places."

OOC:  Not very good, but it lets you guys move on a little more.  I'll get a better post up later.  Go how you want with this and we'll have most of the first floor done with my next post.

Arath was shaken from his concentration once again as something slammed into his wall.  He felt Saidin being used nearby and was a little concerned.  If someone damaged his new house . . .

Stepping outside he squinted in the sunlight.  He definitely needed more lighting in his study.  Walking around the corner he found something which both amused and concerned him.  A man was dangling from flows of air, a good foot off of the ground, and pressed right into his wall.  He looked angry, and understandably frightened at the same time.  Walking over to where the man hung, Arath examined him.  He looked as though he had recently arrived.  "I'd ask if I could help you, but that seems to go without saying," he chuckled as he siezed the source.  A moment later he cut the weave of air that was suspending the newcomer, who dropped to the ground unceremoniously.

Just then, Tai'Dashan rounded the corner.  "Tai, excellent timing.  Explain to me why I get this sneaking suspicion that you were responsible for our friends predicament just now?"

OOC:  I love interesting arrivals :D

OOC:  Sorry this took so long.  Real life's been crazy lately.

IC:  Arath stuggled to keep his face neutral as the new recruit rambled.  Had he been able to channel already, he would have thought him mad.  As it was, he was just slightly annoying.  And what was this about a philosophy teacher telling him he could channel?  That was more than a little disturbing.

"Well, as it happens I have a little free time right now to get you settled in.  But first, if you don't mind my asking, how did your former teacher test you for channeling?"  Arath nodded as Sereth described the process.  It seemed legitimate.  "Very well.  First I'll need to explain a few things to you, then we'll get you started with channeling."  Drawing a chair to himself with a flow of air, Arath sat himself down at the table.

"You understand that you give up everything to join the ranks of the Asha'man?  All rank, position, family . . . everything?  There are some who's families are crazy enough to join them, but for the most part, your family will disown you.

"There is also a very real, and very likely chance that you will either die in training, or go mad, in which case we will be forced to kill you.  You will be forged into a weapon for the Lord Dragon, and will do as he bids.  For your own safety, you will respect the rank of those higher than you.  Ranks are easy enough to distinguish.  Everyone wears a black uniform.  Soldiers, your rank, wear it unadorned.  Dedicated wear this silver pin," he touched the silver sword at his neck," and Asha'man wear this golden Dragon pin.  Anyone with embroidered sleaves is an officer, Attack or Storm Leader, so tread lightly around them."

Arath paused to see how well the other man was absorbing all the information.  "Any questions?  Or shall I just show you around?"

Esy's jaw dropped.  His fate was in her hands?  But they barely knew eachother.  He supposed she must know something of him if she had hunted him down from Caemlyn, but there was no way she knew all of his story.  Esyndor cringed a little.  He hoped she didn't want him dead for not helping her escape.  Really he had done all he could, but people tended to look at results, not efforts.

Fortunately for him, Alianna seemed to think the same thing.  "I know nothing beyond what I've already said about this.  If you want to know the truth you'll have to hear it from him."

Cor looked thoughtfully at the gai'shain then back to the captive, who stood there gaping like a wetlander fish on a riverbank. Dropping down to crouch on his heels, a comfortable position he could hold for hours, he motioned to the would-be assassin.

"Tell me, Andorman. I will hear your story, and then we will see what happens next."

Esyndor closed his mouth and swallowed nervously.  "There isn't much to tell.  Five years ago, Esanoma murdered my family over some squabble with an Andoran noble, and I've been seeking justice ever since.  Nobody else will do anything, so I've tried to take it into my own hands."

The young Stone Dog society leader listened, then thought in silence for a moment...

"Wetlanders can't tell a scarlet puffer from a red adder, though one is deadly and the other is harmless. How am I to tell which you are? You wetlanders speak out of both sides of your mouths like a Shara man selling silk."

Esyndor shrugged and moved on, deciding to go into a little more detail on his story.  At the very least it would delay the headman's block a few minutes.  Or whatever these Aiel would do instead.  Let him believe what he wanted.

"Look.  Five years ago I worked in my father's forge, making a good living.  One day he sent me into Caemlyn for a few supplies, and when I got back that night, Esanoma had murdered my parents and burn down the house and shop.  What was left of my father was found inside the forge itself, and my mother was nearby with a molten silver mask on her face."  He paused for a moment ot calm and steady himself.  His voice was starting to rise, and it woulnd't help his cause to shout at his captor.

"Nobody would help me after that.  The Andoran noble my father worked for wouldn't even see me.  Had me arrested when I tried to force an audience with him.  No other smith in the ciry would take me on after that, so I went to Murandy.  A few months ago I got some information that led me to a man in Caemlyn.  I had to ... coerce the information from him, but he told me about Esanoma.  How he had personally done it.  I should have killed him too, but I didn't.  Which is how she got on my trail."  He indicated Alianna who gave a confiming nod.

"I'd been searching for a couple of weeks when you ... when we met for the first time.  And today, I found him.  I was just climbing over his fence when you saw me."

Esy finished his story and dropped his gaze to the floor.  "I'm no warrior or murderer.  Just a blacksmith in over my head.  But I won't stop unitl he pays for what he's done."  He glared back up at Cor.  "So what does Aiel justice call for in this case?  What would you have done in my situation?"

Drex stalked the hallway of Vandorf Lyons Academy toward the cafeteria.  His first day back and been just as he had expected.  Boring as hell.  Amazing how little things changed in a year.  The same arrogant jerks still running around as the popular crowd, making life miserable for everyone else.  Fortunately he had never had to deal with much of that before.  The jocks that did most of the bullying were for the most part a pretty stupid lot, but smart enough to know where they could buy good notes for finals week.

But it seemed that memories were short.  After just one year gone, his clientel seemed to have forgotten that he was responsible for them advancing ot the next year.  As he entered the cafeteria a small group of jocks spied him and rushed over, broad, ugly grins all over their faces.  Drex searched his mind quickly for their names.  Connolly?  Ah yes, Matthew Connolly the third.  The turd, he thought to himself wryly.

"Looks who's finally back boys," said Matthew Connolly.  "Little Drexy."

"Mat," acknowledged Drex in his most bored tone.  How had he ever been friends with this guy in elementary school?  He stared straight into the taller boy's eyes.  "Go away."

Connolly stared at him for a moment in apparent confusion, then turned on the spot and left.  His two friends stared after him for a couple seconds, wondering what was going on, then followed.  Drex smiled.  That would definitely be nice.  Maybe school woulndn't be so bad when people actually listened to what he said.

After picking up some food from a vending machine, Drex walked over to a nearby empty table and dropped into the seat, looking at his schedule.  Spanish next hour.  He almost laughed.  He could probably pass that class in his sleep now.  Stuffing the paper back into his bag he glanced around the room.  Idly he wondered if anyone else he knew would be around.  After seeing Connolly the Turd he wouldn't mind seeing a friendly face.

OOC:  Anyone who wants to be an old friend, or a new one, feel free to pester.

I'd kind of like a shot at this.  Arath is an attack leader, and he holds Serena's bond to boot.  Could make for a very interesting RP.

Methinks Arath would be very suspicious at first, and not like the whole idea of an AS free to roam the grounds on bonded, but wouldn't be hostile.  Unless provoked, as usually seems to happen. :P

He could even escort her around if things went right.  Rion's a nice guy and all, but he'd not be overly popular with Linten's forces, and an Attack Leader is more secure :)

Arath awaited atop a building overlooking the Square of Tammuz, watching the troops cross toward the palace.  The plan was simple.  He would wait high above with the archers from the band, and make it impossible for reinforcements to help inside the palace, while the foot soldiers and most of the other Asha'man stormed the forsaken's stronghold.  But like most well laid plans, it only lasted until the first blow was struck.

The building rocked alarmingly beneath him as the explosion ripped across the square of Tammuz.  A few rock shards ricocheted off the walls directly beneath them, but for the most part the destruction was contained below.  Arath and his companions atop the walls looked down on the devastation.  Nearly everyone had been knocked to the ground, and far too many were not standing up.  Screams and shouts from the wounded and dying filled the air.  And now, soldiers began to stream into the shattered plaza, eager to slaughter the seemingly defenseless and stunned men all over it.  In an instant, Arath seized Saidin, letting the molten ice flow through him, and began to channel.  He extended both arms forward and let fly two large fireballs.  Even before they struck their targets, he prepared lightning which forked down into the attackers and left several charred, smoking bodies in its wake.  And Arath was not the only to unleash hell upon the would be butchers.  A pair of dedicated on the ground working in tandem sent a wave of flame and shattered earth outward into the main body of their foes.  A pair of soldiers were busy barricading the streets with barriers of solid air.  An Asha'man tended the wounded while another defended him, wreathed in flame and incinerating any enemy that dared come near him.

Where is she? he thought as he unleashed another fireball on the largest group of attackers.  They needed to find Ja'varan soon, or the cost of victory would be far too high.