Esyndor Renethil - FL - Blacksmith turned Assassin in Cairhien

“Any suggestions on where we could go?  We can’t keep wandering the streets, we risk recognition.”[/font]

Esyndor thought for a moment on where they could hide.  He wasn't exactly sure what to do.  Although trusting a thiefcatcher went completely against his nature, it didn't seem likely that Alianna would pose a problem for him now.  With a sigh, he motioned her to follow him.  "I have a room at a horrible little inn a short ways from here.  It's not much, and definitely not comfortable, but it's off the street and according to the innkeeper, we were never there."

Ten minutes, and three patrols later, Esy and Alianna stepped into the dirty and deserted common room of the run down inn.  The innkeeper, a thin, weasely looking man, barely acknowledged them as they headed up the stairs to the small room Esy had been renting.  It was secluded in the back end of the hallway, and the only window overlooked the stable's rooftop, making for a quick escape route if needed.  Closing the door behind them, Esyndor wandered over to the bed and sat near the foot.  Now that the danger was safely away from them, awareness of himself returned.  All the aches and pains he had acquired during the day caught up with him, especially those he had gained while the Aiel man had beaten him.  Rubbing a bruised wrist he looked back toward the Kandori thiefcatcher.  "You never did tell me.  Why did you do that back there.  Surely my story wasn't compelling enough to turn you to the other side of the law.  Why bother saving the person you've hunted for so far?

OOC:  I step out for one second . . .  :P

Arath returned slowly to the inn, muttering to himself about foolish soldiers.  Training accidents were not uncommon, but they were still frustrating.  Especially when someone died from the mistake.  The young man Arath had been mentoring was now being hauled off to the graveyard in several pieces, and two others had been sent to the infirmary for horrible burns.  The healers would be able to fix them easily enough, but the loss of a single soldier stung greatly.  Arath wondered idly what he might have done to prevent such an accident, but his mentee had been headstrong and stubborn.  And really, quite an idiot.  And now all that remained of him was paperwork.

Shaking that unpleasant thought from his head, Arath stepped inside and looked around.  Not much had changed since he'd left.  He didn't see Tai'Dashan for a moment, and assumed that one of the dedicated had come to retrieve him.  He was half right.  When he finally found the new recruit he winced inwardly as he saw him seated with Linten.  That man was an enigma.  He seemed to have an agenda entirely of his own, but Arath could not for the life of him figure it out. 

The look on the dedicated's face was unreadable as Arath approached, as usual.  A stone would communicate more than Linten would if he didn't want to.  "Making friends already are we?" he said as he came along side the table.  "I hate to break up your conversation, but the new soldier needs to be settled in."  Arath tilted his head slightly and thought for a moment.  "Come to think of it, you can help with this Linten.  Give him the grand tour, explain the heirarchy around here, and explain to him what he can expect for his first few weeks here, and have him at my office in an hour."  He turned to look at Tai'Dashan directly.  "Due to a training accident a very short time ago which claimed the life of another soldier, I am free to personally oversee your training."  He smiled slightly.  "I hope you listen better than my last mentee did."

Arath Faringal followed the group through the impressive building that housed the Council of Nine.  He was a little restless at having to take a back seat for this first part, channeling would be so much faster, but he well understood the need for secrecy.  Channeling at all might alert any dreadlords stationed among the ranks of the enemy.  But his moment would come soon.  He was sure they were approaching their destination, after the seemingly endless hallways and corridors they had passed. 

At long last Stavros called them together again for last minute instructions.  Kill all Companions and capture all of the Nine.  Simple enough.  Arath threw a questioning look at Con, silently asking if channeling would be permitted now.  A barely perceptible nod confirmed it.  The Asha'man's moment had come.  Turning to the Asha'man and Dedicated who accompanied him, he gave his own instructions.  "We go behind the initial charge and seek out the Council members.  Bind them and quickly remove them from the battle.  Keep channeling to a minimum if you can, but get the job done.  Kill any Companions who get in your way quickly and quietly.  Air razors and such.  Once the council is secure, assist the Band and militia in securing the chamber."  It may have been pointless to repeat all of this again.  They had gone over the plan several times before during the previous day, but one could never be reminded enough of the simplest plans.

A few minutes later it all began.  After sneaking down a couple more hallways, Con led the charge toward the council chamber.  Only a few of the well trained Companions fell in surprise.  The others recovered quickly, acting as if this were a normal occurance to be attacked in the middle of the palace.  Arath and his companions followed close behind the front line of attackers, wielding their own blades and their deadlier weapons against the elite guards of Illian.  Arath's twin short swords deflected attacks from enemy soldiers intent on his destruction, while he counterattacked with Saidin.  Thin weaves of air slashed out the throats of any who stood in his way as he purposefully moved deeper into the room.  Spying a council member a little ways ahead, Arath prepared the weaves he'd need.  A trio of Companions stood in front of the Illianer Lord, showing no sign of moving for anything.  Weaves of Air snaked out across the floor and jerked the feet out from under one man and cracking his head against the nearby table.  A thin razor silently drew across the throat of Companion to the left, leaving a dripping red line.  The third man was visibly shaken, having watched both of his companions fall to an unseen foe, foolishly, but to his credit, he stood his ground.  A moment later he fell too as a spike of air drove through his chest, piercing his heart.

In short order the first council member was secured;  bound in weaves of air and dumped unceremoniously under the large table in the center of the room.  Satisfied that he wasn't going anywhere, Arath rejoined the battle.  There was more work to be done before this skirmish was over.

Odd how things conspire against me.  I've been roped into going to scout camp with my little brother as an adult leader, so I'll be gone for a week.  Sorry to anyone I'm RP-ing with.  I'll be back next Sunday.  Sort of.

On an even less happy note, my computer has come to its untimely death after only 6 months.  Don't.  Buy.  Dell.  Hard drive failure me thinks . . . I'm pissed either way.

Hopefully I'll be happier after a week in a dusty, sweaty camp full of 12-14 yr olds . . .

Light help me.

I reposted it in the correct board  :)

1.

Tai'Dashan slowed as he approached what everyone he talked to had been calling "The Farm." The dirt path he was on led to ominous, slick-looking, black stone walls. "Looks nothing like a farm." He mumbled to himself. On The outside, The Farm was a formidable looking structure, if unfinished. Through gaps in the strange shiny black walls, Tai'Dashan could see a bustling mass of people. He felt a stab of apprehension as he saw those people moving about purposefully and wondered if he would fit in.

'What are you thinking you goat-brained fool?' He thought to himself harshly. 'You aren't exactly here to make friends. It doesn't matter if they all hate you! You are here to test. Pass or Fail. Period.'

Already Tai'Dashan was missing his trade and his home back in Mayne. He sighed heavily in resignation and walked over to the only building that even looked somewhat familiar, an Inn. Scanning the Inn, his blue eyes finding the door, he saw men walking in and out with those black coats everyone seemed to be wearing. They seemed to wear grim looks as easily as their coats.

'What am I doing here? I probably wont even be able to channel. What good am I, a jewelry merchant, to these strong and confident men? ' He ran a hand through his dark hair and hoisted his pack to a better position. "I'm just tired from travelling and its got me acting like a child, nervous and doubting myself." he grumbled. A woman walking by with a basket of wash, hearing him speak, paused to give him a puzzled look. 'Great, already have people looking at me strangely.' He thought.

A long way from home, having given up everything he owned and loved for a dream, feeling quite despondant, alone and lost, Tai'Dashan sat on an overturned barrel next to the Inn's door and waited for some kind of direction.

2.

Arath rubbed his eyes in his study, tired from reading over training reports. He had been excited for his promotion at first, until the paperwork had begun. Now being an Attack Leader wasn't so glamorous as he'd originally supposed. How did Isha put up with it? Setting down a report on a training accident, he looked out the window gazing at the grounds of the Farm. The inn drew his eye in particular. An escape from the monotany of his day.

Buttoning up his black coat he stepped outside into the afternoon air and set off at a brisk pace toward the inn. As he approached the door he noticed a man sitting on a barrel a little to the side of the door, and looking thoroughly lost. Judging by the man's clothing, he wasn't a soldier. Yet.

Standing by the door he addressed the man. "You look like you could use a drink friend. And if you don't now you may well need one soon." With a sweeping gesture he invited the man inside, and entered himself. Sitting down at a nearby table he waved down a nearby serving girl for drinks, then returned his attention to the other man who looked a little aprehensive. "So. What brings you here? Most people don't come looking for this place, and since you didn't come straight to my office, a recruiting party didn't find you." Noting the blank look in the other man's face, Arath realized he had not yet introduced himself. Holding out his hand he did so. "Arath Faringal is my name. I'm Attack Leader in charge of new recruits here."

OOC: Intro's, first impressions, yada yada yada. Make a good impression on me, since I'm your mentor now   And then we'll get on with your testing and all that fun stuff.

3.

Tai'Dashan had just about convinced himself that he was foolish to ever come here, when one of the many black coated men stopped on his way in to the Inn and offered him inside for a drink.

Quote:

"You look like you could use a drink friend. And if you don't now you may well need one soon."

Following the man inside he thought to himself, 'Well, there is no turning back now.' The man asked some questions that didn't make much sense, and then thrust out his hand explaining who he was.

Quote:

"Arath Faringal is my name. I'm Attack Leader in charge of new recruits here."

Well, it sure was nice to be welcomed at least. Tai'Dashan took Arath's hand and smiled, intorducing himself in return.

"My name is Tai'Dashan. I-I heard that y-you guys test to see if men can channel." He stuttered in apprehension at first, growing in confidence with the last few words. "I want to test. I want to fight the forces of the shadow and rid the world of darkness!" His earlier apprehension and doubts faded with his confident words. His startling blue eyes blazing, daring this man in front of him to deny him. "At any cost. What do I have to do?" He finished.

4. 

Arath stared at the other man for a moment before responding. "Is that so? You wish to test for Saidin? It is a rare thing indeed for someone to come looking for us. Rarer still for those people to know what they're asking of us.

"Saidin is an amazing thing. A power you've never even imagined before. A power that will destroy you on the spot if you ever lose control. With it you can travel across the world in an instant, lay waste to an army, and a myriad of other things. But it comes with a cost. The light cursed taint for one. Every time you touch Saidin, you touch the vile taint. Many go mad the instant they brush against the thing. And they may be the lucky ones. Even if the taint doesn't drive you to insanity, it begins to tear apart your body. A wasting sickness that consumes you alive. To make it worse, Saidin is addictive. Once you begin to channel, you can't stop. You'll crave Saidin like a man in a desert craves water. And the only way to get it is repeatedly diving through the taint.

"You wish to fight the forces of the shadow? Rid the world of darkness? The cost is to take them in, and make them a part of you." Arath smiled a little at the wide eyed look of Tai'Dashan. "I don't tell you this to disuade you. Light knows we need every soldier we can get. But you should know the truth. If I test you and you can channel, there is NO turning back. Your life will belong to the Black Tower. So, do you wish to proceed?" A small flame sprang into being, suspended in the air between them about a foot above the table. "Or escape while you still can?"

5. 

Quote:

"You wish to fight the forces of the shadow? Rid the world of darkness? The cost is to take them in, and make them a part of you."

Tai'Dashan heard the man's words and remembered a time his mother had taught him something similar, over a gold ring set with a ruby she was crafting. "You see the imperfections in the ruby? That is what makes it valuable. Don't look at me like I just ate a trolloc boy." She chuckled softly and ruffled his hair. "The imperfections make it real." she explained.

His mother had taught him a valuable lesson that day, one that he would hold dear the rest of his life. Flaws make a thing real. Nothing is perfect. The old saying went, "Take what you want and pay for it later, just make sure you have enough to pay your debt."

A small flame hung in the air, as did Arath's words.

"Escape is for cowards and fools!" Tai'Dashan spat as his eyes locked on the strangely floating flame in front of him. It drew his eyes and held his focus almost unwillingly. When he spoke next, eyes never leaving the flame, his voice was silk wrapped steel. The flame dancing in his eyes almost hauntingly, he spoke. "I hear the Dark One is threatening everything we know. And the Dragon Reborn is gathering an army to fight." Arath was struck by the man's sudden intensity. "Sacrifice is something I am no stranger to. I have lost much because of the Shadow." Suddenly the man's eyes snapped up to bore like augers into Arath's, with a voice to match. "What means a little more? As I said, 'At any cost'."

Tai'Dashan's eyes settled almost apologetically back to the flame.

6.

"Very well." Arath was more than a little curious about this man's story. His intensity spoke of much hurt in a short time. But that would be for another time. "I want you to concentrate on this flame. Let the flame fill your mind. No thoughts of the shadow, or Saidin, your family . . . anything. The flame is all that is." Arath wove a small sound ward around them, blocking out the noise of the inn to aid Tai'Dashan's concentration.

The silence dragged out between them for a time, the Attack Leader's focus on his testing friend, the recruit trying to maintain focus on the small spot of fire. Twenty minutes stretched themselves out and passed before Arath felt it happen. A tiny pulse in the flame, and the resonance from the man in front of him. He could channel. His crazy ambitions might well be realized now. Only time would tell.

Arath released the flame and the silencing ward abruptly, startling Tai'Dashan slightly. "It is over. Enjoy your last few moments as a civilian. Have a drink, get something to eat. Once you leave the inn, you will be a Soldier of the Black Tower. A weapon of the Dragon Reborn. A wielder of Saidin."

Arath settled back into his seat and took a drink from his long forgotten mug. "Any questions for me before we start your new life? We'll be heading over to my office for a moment, then we'll get you squared away. Whenever you're ready."

7. 

The flame. All there was, all there had been, and all there ever would be, vanished abruptly and with it Tai'Dashan's hopes. He hadn't felt a thing, he had failed. He had tried so hard to see or feel anything, anything at all- Arath's words broke into his thoughts and told him something different. He had passed?

"Any questions for me before we start your new life? We'll be heading over to my office for a moment, then we'll get you squared away. Whenever you're ready."

Shocked, he quickly searched for something to say. Everything flooded into his mind at once. All those nights sleeping on the side of the road. All the money spent just to get here. His hopes to pass and fear of failure, everything seemed to spiral in on his mind and just...disappear. Finally he was calm.

"Thanks Arath," Tai'Dashan smiled. "I think I am ready. Where do we begin?"

Arath chewed his lip as Ged spoke. This wasn't exactly what he'd been hoping for, but that was risk you ran when you let a student teach. More than anything he seemed to be trying to provoke Linten, but that was his own problem. After all was said and done he might be able to turn the dedicateds words into something useful.

Watching carefully as the dedicated approached him with sword raised, Arath tried to decide what lesson he would teach this time. Ged moved . . . hesitantly. As though he would rather be anywhere else. Understandable, but inexcusable. There was no space for half-hearted actions here. Smiling slightly, Arath dropped into a ready stance.

The fight nearly ended before it really began. Arath surprised his opponent by leaping forward in a wild attack, crossing both blades in front of him and pressing the dedicated back. One foot snaked around behind the other man's leg causing him to slam to the ground instead of stumble backwards. It would have been over if Ged hadn't had the presence of mind, or perhaps the dumb luck, to swing his sword around at Arath as he fell, keeping the Asha'man from rushing forward to finish him.

Taking a step back, Arath let Ged stand up to continue, but rushed forward again and pressed on him with a flurry of attacks. Nothing overly difficult to block, but quick, and in overwhelming quantity. If he had been giving his all he wouldn't have had too much of a problem staving off the blows, but as it was he soon sported an impressive set of bruises on his arms, legs, and sides. Through it all, Arath was impressed that the other man could keep his cool. He could only imagine how Linten would be reacting right about now.

Deciding to spare the poor dedicated some punishment, Arath kicked up the intensity of his attacks to end it quickly. Crossed blades snapped down on his foe's sword and wrenched it from his grasp, sending it flying away. Reversing his grip on the right hand blade, he brought his arm upward and drawing the blade across the other man's chest. If the weapon had had an edge, Ged's vital organs would have spilt out all over the ground. Instead, the force of the hit only knocked him to the ground where he lay panting for breath.

Arath walked over to the prone dedicated and addressed the class. "There is no room here anyone who is willing to give less than their all here. No matter your sitation, no matter your weapon, no matter your opponent, you give until theres nothing left to give. If you are up against a dreadlord, or one of the forsaken, anything less than your all is death. They won't hold back for you." He looked down at Ged and tapped his forhead with the tip of his earthen blade. "If I had been a fade instead of your instructor you would be missing your arms instead of collecting bruises." Stepping back and looking up at the others he continued. "We may not aspire to glory, to have the bards and gleemen sing about us, but your efforts should always be worthy of a song. Be a legend in your family. And know that if you do give up in the middle of a real battle, if the enemy doesn't kill you, I will. Any questions?"

When nobody said anything, he let the weaves holding his swords unravel and reached down pulling Ged to his feet. As an afterthought, he wove healing and removed a few of the more painful bruises forming on Ged's arms and sides. Clapping him on the shoulder, Arath sent the dedicated back to the rest of the group.

"Now then, as useful as it is to know how to fight when you're shielded, you should also know how to get out of such an awful predicament. Some of you-" he stared pointedly at Linten, "-have figured out that shields give and bend if you push on them hard. If you push hard enough, you can break through it, but only if the person shielding you is much weaker than you are. However, there is a way to get through if the shield is tied off, no matter who did it. Everyone examine the shield between you and Saidin. You'll find a point that's . . . hard. Not the same is the rest of it. This is the weak point. It can take a while to do, but you have to work your way into that point and . . . break it. Flex. It's hard to describe, but you should be able to figure it out.

"So, your final part in this lesson is to break through your shields. But thats too easy. Form up with a new sparring partner and duel. You are to take down your opponent. Disarmed, on the ground, beaten. Hold nothing back. At the same time, you are to break through your shields. First man through gets to channel at the other. So work quickly. Loser's gets to run three Koras laps before lunch."

Arath smiled as the dedicateds launched themselves at eachother, determined to get out of the extra laps.

OOC: Thought I'd make your last posts interesting :D To finish this class, I want 1 more post from Ged, 2 more from Linten and Aslan. So you might want to duel accordingly, or have a big drinking party afterward, or whatever. 5 posts total.

Arath couldn't help but keep the smile off his face as Linten struggled against the shield. It's a good thing nobody's taught him how to break through a shield yet or this might be really interesting. As it was the tied off shield was straining to hold him. Deciding to minimize the chance of an accident Arath held the shield, making it impossible for Linten to break through by accident.

The duel stretched on a couple more minutes, Arath examining his opponent, Linten frantically throwing himself against the shield. Surely he knew that he couldn't break through, but he persisted, and seemed to grow more frustrated and angry with each failed attempt. Which Arath was going to exploit. The class had seen enough of Linten's tactics to get what he had meant, so now they'd see another perspective.

Arath went into a flurry of motion, making carefully angled strikes from all sides, allowing the dedicated to intercept each one, but just barely. Linten's sword was much faster than an axe, but Arath's short power wrought blades still gave him an unfair speed advantage. As Linten struggled to keep pace with the speedy attacks, Arath let a wide grin pass onto his face. It had the desired effect. His opponent’s anger surged, and he began to be careless. A small shift in his stance was what Arath had been waiting for.

Both swords sliced across from opposite sides, one toward the chest, and one at the stomach. Linten’s sword came up predictably to catch the attacks. At the same time, Arath stepped forward onto Linten’s foot and pushed forward with his knee and blades. The dedicated hit the ground hard, flat on his back. Arath stepped up and pressed his blade to his downed opponent’s chest. “Fighting a skilled opponent is like fighting Saidin. If you lose control of your emotions, you die. Don’t let your anger cloud your judgment.”

Arath reached down to lift Linten up from the ground, snatching his hand back just as the other man’s sword arced up. He was startled for a moment, but then laughed slightly. “At the same time, being angry can give you that last little push you need when you’re already beaten.” Flows of air wrenched the blade from the dedicated’s hand and hauled him forcibly to his feet. “Never give up until you’re dead.” He looked the other man square in the eyes and handed him back his sword. “But learn limits.”

Pointedly turning away from Linten, Arath motioned Ged forward for his part.

Arath stepped easily out of Aslan's swing radius and barely nodded in approval as the other man dove out of the way. Axe's did leave one vulnerable after a heavy swing like that, putting the dedicated at a serious disadvantage. He allowed Aslan to make a few more similar attacks to give the rest of the class an idea before stepping the demonstration up a notch.

Weaving his own twin blades around in quick patterns, Arath poked at Aslan's defenses from several different angles, exploiting the defensive drawbacks of the heavier weapon. The dedicated was competent enough to catch at least one of his swords with the axe, but spent a considerable amount of time dancing backwards to avoid the second attack. As the attacks sped up however he gave up trying to parry many of the blows and made use of his only defense; a strong offense. Heavy blow after heavy blow came back toward Arath, which was exactly what he was waiting for. When a heavy sideways blow came, Arath stepped into the attack, spinning inward close to Aslan past the axe head. His spin continued inbehind the dedicated and twin blades arced out, one catching behind the knees, one across the flat of the back. Aslan fell to the ground and Arath stepped on the axe handle, pinning it and Aslan's hand to the ground. Resting the sword points on his chest, Arath turned back to the class. "Heavy weapons are good for large battles, because there often isn't a lot of room to evade like I did. But speed is best for a one on one fight like this."

Arath reached down and pulled Aslan to his feet, nodding to him in approval. He had done well all things considered. His gaze turned back to Ged and Linten, silently beckoning either one of them forward for their turn.

The sun was barely brightening the horizon as Arath stoked the coals in the Black Tower's forge, preparing for work. Preparations had all been made to make sure he worked without interuptions. Classes had been reassigned to other Asha'man, patrol duty had be forced onto a pair of disgruntled Dedicateds, and a very early breakfast left him ready for the morning.

Carefully unwrapping the large bar of silver, he hefted the thing in his hands appreciatively. He had delved into it when he had gone to pick it up yesterday, and it was definitely the best he had ever worked with. Rion certainly had good connections. Siezing Saidin, Arath wove earth and fire, cleanly cutting away the small amount of metal he'd need to work with. He chuckled slightly as his hand closed around the tiny chunk of silver. So much easier than melting the whole bar down.

Final preparations were made quickly, sketches laid out, bright lights fixed above the workbench, tools laid out in a comfortably messy fashion. And he set to work.

The hours passed quickly. Family trade secrets passed down for generations fused with the awesome control and power of Saidin as Arath worked tirelessly. The ease with which the intricate tasks could be performed amazed the young smith, accustomed as he was to Saidin. Thin silver filaments extruded entirely with the power were carefully worked and shaped by his deft fingers and tool work. Seams in the metal, already barely imperceptable, flowed together and ceased to exist with tiny amounts of earth, fire, and spirit; small details which seemed impossibly thin and fragile were given the strength of hardened steel. All the while tiny flows of spirit wound around and through the ring as it formed, probing it for flaws and defects.

Around mid-day, the smaller of the two rings was completed. Taking a break to eat the small lunch he had arranged to have brought to him, Arath examined the thing he had made. The intricate patterns and lines seemed to be all one smooth piece, which in fact they were. An impossible feat without Saidin. His light blasted father could never have dreamed of something like this. And the fool thought I'd never amount to anything ...

After his meal, work began on the second ring. It was larger, but other than that it was almost identical to the first. Hours sped by once more as Arath lost himself in his work. Even though it wasn't as necesary with this piece, he strengthened the silver in all of the same points and all the same ways. Identical in every way. By the time he was finished, the sun was well on its way behind the horizon, and Arath was exhausted. Such detailed work with Saidin for so long left him drained, and the taint seemed to weigh down heavily on him. He knew he should leave final details until the morning when he was well rested again to avoid mistakes, but the urge to complete his project goaded him on.

Holding the pair of rings in his fingers, Arath channeled again, splitting a flow of spirit between the two rings and examined every detail. Spirit flowed over the identical designs slowly, letting him see and compare down to the most minute detail. Slowly turning the rings in his fingers, the spirit threads wrapped around the silver bands until the entire loop had been made. Satisfied with his work, Arath released his flows. For a moment they seemed to persist, to settle into the rings. Arath shook his head and blinked in surprise. What was that? He rubbed his tired eyes and channeled again, probing the rings with spirit again to determine what had happened. There didn't seem to be anything wrong at all. He must have just imagined it.

Stifling a yawn, he let the odd event go. He was too tired to think about it now anyway. All he wanted at the moment was a good meal and his bed.

* * *

The next day Arath woke late, but feeling good. The odd event the night before still bothered him a little, but another examination had revealed nothing to him. Satisfied that the rings were as good as he could ever get them, he tucked them away into a small pouch and set off to find Rion. After a few inquiries he found him at the training grounds, finishing a class with a handful of Soldiers. He leaned against a nearby building, waiting in the shade until the other Asha'man was finished until waving him over.

"Here you go," he said pulling the small pouch from his belt. "I hope these work for you"

Arath supervised his sparring students with a pained look. Most of them weren't taking this seriously. Only a small handful of the dozen or so dedicateds seemed to show any promise. Letting them carry on for a few extra minutes he picked out those who would take part in the next part of this class. Once the choice was made he called for attention. Almost everyone immediately broke away except for a pair of Cairhienen who were too caught up in trying to kill each other to pay much attention. A small earthquake beneath them brought them around quickly enough though, and the class continued.

"Most of you," Arath said loudly, "are horrible. You wouldn't last 5 minutes against a farmer with a pitchfork, let alone a Trolloc or a Fade. Thankfully, not all of you are total losses. Aslan, Linten, Ged; you three will stay here. The rest of you, run a Koras lap and assemble back here."

Once the rest of the disgruntled class had left, he addressed the remaining three. "You all have something to offer the rest of the class. Aslan, you seem to have had some prior training, and know what you're doing. Ged, you control yourself well. Linten ... you do whatever it takes to win. If we could put the three of you together we'd have a decent fighter.

"What I want you to do then, is explain to the rest of the class when they arrive why your particular trait or ability is useful, and why it will help you to defeat me when I spar with you. I expect you to at least hold your own long enough to make your words credible."

OOC: Okay, whoever wants to go first, give a pretty little speech to the class about why you are better than them :twisted: and attack me. Whoever posts first gets first beating, then so on and so forth. :P

A few rooftops later, Esyndor wondered if he'd be better off trying his luck against the lion. The tiled roof threatened to throw him to the ground with every step, and it seemed that every roof was farther away and higher up than the last. And his pursuers were gaining on him. He half expected an aiel spear to pierce him at any moment, but he kept on running.

The chase nearly came to an abrupt halt as the tiles beneath Esy's feet gave way, sliding off to the ground and nearly taking him with them. Panic swept over him as he realized how high up he was, and how hard he was likely to hit the stone street below. As he reached the edge of the slanted roof he somehow managed to gather his feet underneath himself and leap off with a tremendous shove, praying that he could reach the next roof.

The wall hit his chest with painful force, driving his breath away and bruising his ribs. His face scrapped along the rough wall, adding to the pain. But incredibly, his fingers held their precarious grip on the roof top. Looking down while he caught his breath, Esy considered dropping down to the ground to try and lose the pursuit in the alleys again. He entertained the thought until the lion loped into view again. Blood and ashes ... Gritting his teeth he pulled himself painfully on top of the building, onto the mercifully flat roof. Pushing himself back onto his feet, he looked around quickly for somewhere else to run. What he saw was disheartening. He was now on the most isolated rooftop around, with nowhere else to go. He was stuck.

He didn't turn around immediately as he heard someone else land on the rooftop behind him. Was this it? Defeat? So close to his goal, yet now so far away ... The person behind him approached slowly in silence. Taking a deep breath, Esyndor drew his daggers and slowly turned, ready to face death.

After one more quick glance at the drawings, Arath shook his head. "Nope. That's everything. If anything should come up later I know where to find you." After a few more minutes of idle discussion Arath excused himself and returned to his home to prepare for the short journey.

In short order he was ready to go. Black coat and pins had been abandoned for more common atire, saddle bag was packed, and Rion's letter was tucked safely away. He would be Travel most of the way there of course, but it was important to keep up appearances. After borrowing a horse from the stables, he was on his way.

***

A few hours later, the silvery slash of a gateway split the air of the travelling grounds at the Farm. Arath led his horse and quickly and let the gateway collapse, shutting out the utter darkness on the other side. The whole affair had been fairly simple. The man Jaem had nearly fallen over himself to be useful after reading Rion's note. The silversmith had provided him with a large bar of some of the purest silver that Arath had ever seen, many times larger than what he'd need. No cheap thing. He could probably forge rings for every married couple at the Tower from it.

A quick glance at the sun told Arath that it was too late to begin work today. He would start in the morning and work the whole day through to make sure he stayed focused. After stopping at the inn for a quick meal, he returned home and carefully stowed away the wrapped silver bar. Most of his evening was spent pouring over the drawings, making sure he understood everything. By the time he went to sleep, he was confident that everything would work out perfectly.

OOC: Felt like RP'ing the mundane stuff for some reason. Next post gets to the fun stuff. :D

Adrenaline pumped through his veins as Esyndor heard the mighty roar from the streets behind him. Fear spiked through him and propelled him to greater speed as he tore down the alley's and back streets of Cairhien. Rounding one tight corner, he couldn't help but look back at the beast that followed him. He wished he hadn't. The giant creature was bearing down on him with terrifying speed.

Praying for a miracle, Esy pushed his muscles to their limits, legs screaming from the effort to keep ahead of the death behind him. Leaping over a box, he turned down a very tight passage between two large buildings, hoping it would be too tight a squeeze for the beast. His idea kind of worked; it slowed down a little, giving Esy a little more breathing room. But not enough.

Jumping out of the alley and back into a main street, he wove through the crowd, hearing the shouts of protest as he knocked people over, then shouts of surprise and fear as the lion emerged from the alley and did the same. Knowing he couldn't keep ahead of the beast for much longer, he frantically searched for another option. A low hanging ledge gave him the out he needed. Leaping up, he heaved himself onto the ledge, pulling his legs up just as the giant cat closed the distance. He felt the rush of air as massive paws missed him by inches.

Esy's knees and lungs screamed at him to stop, but he knew he had to keep moving. The lion might not be able to reach him on the roof top, but the Aielman would have no such problems. Pushing himself to his feet, he started moving again. He knew his chances were slim, but if there was a chance of escape, he had to take it.

Arath's eyes watered as she kept increasing the pressure on his chest. He felt a stabbing pain shooting out from his ribs on the left side. They had to be broken, and she wasn't helping any. Had the bond not worked properly? He could feel her pain, but his didn't seem to stop her at all.

"I hate you. I will make your life a living hell!"

Arath didn't doubt that for a second. But he caught something important in her word choice. She wasn't going to kill him. It wasn't very comforting though. Dying ended suffering quickly. For a moment he wondered if he'd have been better of letting her kill him. But the moment passed, and defiance set in.

Slowly and painfully drawing in a deep breath, Arath looked the Aes Sedai in the eyes. "I hate you too, for my own reasons. But what's done is done, and we both have to live with it. I don't think you're going to kill me right now ..." He grunted in pain as she pulled the dagger away, but pressed her knees harder into his chest. Jerking underneath her, he tried to roll to his side, sending her toppling over at the unexpected movement. Pain flowed through the bond as her broken wrist jarred against the ground.

Laying on his side, Arath caught his breath and tried to close off the bond, to lessen the intensity of the sensations. He almost felt like his own wrist was broken. He could tell it would be in his own best interest to keep his bondmate in good shape. Without thinking much about it, he reached over and gently grabbed ahold of her hand. After fumbling with Saidin for a moment he wove what he could of healing. The injury didn't disappear, but the bone settled into place, and knitted somewhat together. The pain she felt lessened considerably.

That little bit of channeling exhausted the last of Arath's strength however. Pushing the tainted one power away he felt darkness slowly overpower him and his awareness became fuzzy as he struggled to remain awake.

OOC: Not quite what I had planned . . . but oh well. :)

IC: Luck was with him today. Just as the woman was about to make a move the door banged open and a noisy pair of drunks came stumbling in, apparently fighting. The Aielman instinctively swung around to check the disturbance, giving Esy the second he needed. In one swift motion the horrible ale from his mug was sent flying at the thief-catchers face, and the table was knocked over, crashing into the back of the Aiel's knees.

Leaping to his feet, Esy slammed his elbow into 'Marilin's' chest to throw her off balance as he dashed for the door. Once outside he sent a pile of boxes crashing down in front of the door to buy a little extra time before sprinting down the shadowed alley. He heard the door bang open just as he rounded a corner and a curse as someone triped over a box. Without a moments pause he kept running. He didn't plan on dying here. Not yet.

Esyndor nodded in thoughtful silence as he listened to Dilora. She was probably right. His mother would have been horrified by what he was doing, by the thought that he might never be coming back. But she wasn’t around anymore. And she never would be.

The silence stretched between them as the sun continued its slow descent toward the horizon. Little was said as they set up camp for the night and Esy started the cooking fire. Not until they sat down to watch the fish cook did the conversation resume. “So we’ll enter Lugard tomorrow? And I guess we’ll be headed our separate ways.” Not something he wanted to dwell on much either. “Thank you for taking me all this way. I really wish I could continue on with you. Take you up on that offer and be a traveling smith for a time. But … it would drive me mad not knowing. Even if I end up not being able to do anything, I still need to know.”

Esy stared into the coals, poking at them with a stick. The next few days would be interesting. The next chapter in the odd story of his life. A fresh start perhaps, or a dead end. Either way, it would be interesting. Settling into the tree at his back he wondered aloud, “How long do you think I’ll be searching before I find something useful?”

Esyndor followed Forge off to a far side of the smithie and oriented himself around the strange building. After selecting a decent hammer and finding an apron he set to work. Soon his arms were burning from swinging the heavy hammer, a pain he'd grown to miss dearly.

Satisfying as it was to finally work with hammer and anvil again, it was difficult to deal with the memories that came back. The last time he'd used a forge he was finishing the dagger he now carried, working alongside his father. The weight of the loss came crashing down on him again and he fell into a brooding silence as he worked.

Fortunately, everyone worked in silence, the massive ogier carefully watching his every move, gauging his skills while Esy focused intently on remembering everything his father had ever taught him, rather than his father himself. Perfection was the least he would settle for on his project. He worked slowly at first, struggling to find his strength again, but soon worked at a steady pace to shape the raw metal into useful scissors. Almost two hours later the twin blades were set aside to cool naturaly, ready to be sharpened and assembled in the morning into the finished product.

As the light faded away, Esy looked over to examine Forge's efforts. He grimaced slightly when he saw that the ogier had produced twice as much as he had, but shook it off quickly. He was out of practice, and the ogier was far more skilled than he was. It was to be expected. Rubbing out the soreness in his burning muscles he moved toward the larger smith and looked closer at his scissor blades. "I've never seen what Ogier can do before. I guess the stories are true then? I hope I can someday be half as good."

Arath studied the drawings Rion provided for a minute. Far better than he could do on paper, which was excellent. The better idea he had of what was wanted, the easier the creation would be. His eyes flitted back and forth over the paper, examining the intricate details of the designs. These would be difficult, perhaps even more so than the necklace had been. Possible yes, and within his abilities, especially with Saidin, but a challenge nonetheless.

And Arath always loved a good challenge.

"Yes, it's possible. Her ring might be a little fragile, but I can work around it. It shouldn't take more than a couple of days once I have the silver." He glanced down at the paper again. "I doubt the Queen of Andor herself has anything to match these."

"It looks like I've got everything I need right here," he continued, indicating the papers. "Anything else you want, or that I should know? If not, I can be off to find your silver by this afternoon."

Arath nearly growled in frustration as he sliced through another invisible weave. Would she never relent? He had broken away to follow the M'Hael and still she pursued, seemingly intent on his destruction. Adding to his frustration was the fact that Dalinar was now moving right into the thick of things. How in the light was he supposed to protect the man when he did that? Gritting his teeth he did his best to follow and fulfill his assignment.

That all came to a crashing halt as Arath's feet were suddenly jerked out from underneath him. Grunting in pain he pulled himself to his knees and looked around. Even before he saw the little Aes Sedai he felt the shield pressing down on him. Normally a shield of that strength wouldn't have bothered him, but in his tired and beaten state it was a bit frightening. More spirit flows surged forth and cut the shield to pieces as his gaze rested on the woman. She was stalking toward him with a knife in hand, still determined as ever to end him. Sorry sir, he thought regretfully toward Dalinar. You're on your own now.

Hauling himself to his feet, he advanced toward the Aes Sedai, throwing all of his strength into a shield. He felt it slide into place, only to be cut apart before cutting her off. Again and again he tried, frustration mounting as she repeatedly destroyed his shields at the last possible moment. The space between them closed slowly until Arath realized that he was almost within striking range of her dagger. Vaguely he was aware that the sounds of battle around them were dying down. Dying down, but not gone.

An explosion erupted behind Arath, aimed at him or not he couldn't tell, and sent him hurtling forward. The Aes Sedai in front of him didn't even have time to react before his body slammed into hers and sent them both hurtling away from the battle in a tangled mass of limbs. He was aware of the awful crunching sound of breaking bones, and a horrible, gut-wrenching pain in his shoulder before impacting the ground and briefly passing out.

"Wha-", he muttered absently as his eyes flickered open. He tried sitting up, but he was flat on his back, with something laying on top of him. Stuggling to focus his swimming vision, he saw a face next to his. A female face. She's pretty... he thought vaguely, though something seemed wrong with her presence. A sharp pain in his shoulder made him groan and swing his head around. A dagger protruded from his left arm, just below the shoulder, and the joint itself appeared to be dislocated. As the woman on top of him stirred, the sounds of the battle returned to him, along with the memory of what happened. The realization hit him like a hammer and he desperately grabbed for Saidin before she could wake up completely. The power came to him, but weakly. The shield he tried to form wouldn't hold; he was too weak. Frantically he looked around for an alternate solution before the Aes Sedai killed him. His eyes fell on another man, Linten he thought, standing next to a kneeling woman and weaving something from spirit. Bonding her.

That's a good idea ... Bringing his right arm around, Arath rested his hand on the woman's short black hair as she pushed herself up, and channeled the necesary flows of spirit. The moment the weave was completed, Saidin fled from his grasp, almost replaced by a tangled knot of ... awareness ... in the back of his mind. He was aware of her pain and momentary confusion as she struggled to sit up and her eyes focused on him. Confusion gave way to surprise and anger and she wrenched the dagger from his arm, fully intending to kill him as she sat on his torso. As the burst of pain from his wound filtered through the bond, anger gave way to shock, then fear, then outrage.

Arath couldn't help but cough out a small laugh, despite the pain. "Just don't kill me," he murmered, breathing hard.

Esyndor forced a small smile at her questions. This might get tricky if he wasn't careful. "I only look Andoran. I was born near the Andoran border, ins a fairly mixed community with a lot of Andoran blood. But I spent most of my life in Lugard." He shrugged. "Common mistake.

"So, Renethil you say?" Esy rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I spoke to a man yesterday by that name. Didn't give me a first name, but thats hardly surprising considering what he wanted."

At 'Marilin's' inquisitive look, Esy pressed his mug to his lips to give himself a moment to think. He grimaced as the foul liquid passed his lips and recoiled slightly. "I've tasted some bad ales in my time, but this . . ." He noted her impatient expresion and tightening grip on her quarterstaff and nodded. He decided to stick to the truth as much as possible. It would be far more difficult for them to catch him in a lie if it was mostly truth. "Right. He wanted to know the whereabouts of a certain noble. Lord Esanoma." Try as he might, he couldn't keep the venom from his voice as he said that name. The object of five years of searching and suffering. "I have my own reasons for hating that light-cursed fool, so I was more than happy to look into it for Renethil. If there's any man in this city who deserves death, it's Esanoma. The only noble I've ever heard of who does his own dirty work. I'd hoped the Aiel would have killed him by now, since he's involved in many of the pitiful resistance groups, but as long as they fail ... no disrespect intended," he added quickly, nodding to the giant Aiel man. "He's been nearly impossible to track down. Too well connected with everyone."

After a moment of thoughtful silence, Esy decided to ask some questions of his own. "You know, for his sister you don't seem to have the best of intentions for him. I would think that you would want to see the man who murdered your family destroyed as well. So why are you really after him?"

Arath was just tucking the necklace away into a small pouch as Rion sat across from him, clearing his throat. Pausing for a moment, he eyed the other Asha'man, wondering what brought him. He looked jumpy, nervous, almost as if he was doing something he shouldn't have.

"I um... had heard you were able to make jewelry, and I saw the necklace you just showed to that Dedicated and was wondering if you could make a...a pair of wedding rings for me. I'll pay near anything you want for it."

The corner's of Arath's mouth twitched upward slightly. "Finally going to do it huh? Congratulations." He reached forward and clasped arms with Rion. "May the creator favor you."

Settling back into his seat, Arath rubbed his chin and thought for a moment. "Wedding rings. Yes, I can do that. If you can just describe what you want for me, I'll get right on it. And don't worry about the cost. My gift to you. I'd only ask enough to cover the cost of materials if I can't easily get them here already." Retrieving the paper and thin charcoal pencil from his belt pouch once more, he continued. "So first off, what do you want these made out of, and how do you want it done?"

Esyndor took a moment to think before responding. Would he really stay once the ogier was gone? Would Darl allow it? Would he even want to?

Still, beggars couldn't be choosers, and he most decidedly wasn't in a position to be choosey over the work he would take. He knew he would have to take the offer, much as he didn't like it. Perhaps after he had acquired some knowledge and reputation in the city he could move on to someplace better. Closing his eyes and rubbing his forhead, Esy tried to figure out the best way through this.

After a short while of silence, he pulled his sheathed dagger from behind his back and tossed it toward the smith. Darl clumsily caught it with a small cry of protest. "If that's good enough work for you, I'll stay around. I helped my father make that. He did the hilt and set the gemstone, but the blade and the engravings are all mine." Darl glared at him for a moment before pulling the blade from the sheath and examining it. Esy watched his eyes flit up and down the blade, hands checking the balance and edge, and caught a barely perceptible twitch at the corners of his mouth. He liked it, even if he tried to hide it.

Slamming the blade back down into the leather scabbard, Darl handed it off to Forge and muttered, "It'll do." The giant ogier also pulled the blade and gave it a glance, nodding thoughtfully before handing it back to Esyndor.

"I'm about a year out of practice," he said, replacing the dagger behind his back, "but give me a little time and I'll be as good as ever." Maybe even better if he could learn something from the ogier. He had heard stories about their abilities with metal and stone, skills he had only ever dreamed of before. This might actually turn out better than he had hoped for.

Esy grimaced as the man he had been speaking with suddenly arose and left the building along with most of the rest of the patrons. Nobody wanted to be seen here, especially by the Aiel. And the man had known something. He was sure of it. He shifted his focus to the newcomers, wondering what would bring a lone Aiel into a place like this.

“Marilin Renethil.”

Only a supreme effort kept Esyndor from coughing into his mug and staring at the woman. This was bad. How in the light had someone found him? Realization dawned on him suddenly, and he silently cursed himself for his stupidity. He should have killed the man.

Only the knowledge that this woman and her giant Aiel friend didn't know who he was kept him from leaving. Doing anything now would arouse suspicion. Unfortunately, it didn't seem that he could avoid some sort of confrontation. A quick glance around revealed that he was the only Andoran out of the now few patrons. A fact that the owner of this place was just now pointing out to 'Marilin'.

Appearing not to care at all, Esy took another sip of the awful ale, not sure if he really wanted to swallow any. A full mug might also make a useful distraction if a quick escape was needed. Watching warily as the dangerous looking pair moved toward him, he considered his options. All things considered, there weren't many at all. He doubted the Aiel man would have any problems catching him if he made a break for it. Esyndor was fast, but he'd never seen anyone move like them. He suspected that some of them might be able to run down horses.

"Not very popular in here are you?" he asked, stressing the slight Murandian accent he had acquired over the last few years. "Can I help you with something? Find someone perhaps?"

OOC: Guess its time for me to get caught up in this :P

IC: Esyndor huddled in an alley, finishing a hasty meal of bread and cheese before continuing his search. He wouldn't have thought that finding Lord Esanoma would be so difficult. But then again, he hadn't counted on the Aiel being in the city. Tyran Esanoma seemed to be in the thick of some resistance plot and was understandably avoiding any attention at all. In the few days Esyndor had been in Cairhien he had heard very little. It was almost as if he had disappeared completely.

The frustration was almost more than he could bear. Five years he had searched. Five years of pain and growing hatred. Such an odd path he had been down. More than three years in Murandy had paid off well in the end, allowing him to find a man in Caemlyn who had been involved in his parents deaths. A man who had watched them die. Oh how he had enjoyed 'speaking' with that man. In retrospect, it might not have been the best idea to have let him live, but the information he had provided was worth something. His life seemed a pitiful price for the name he had now. He had not taken an active role anyway. And beside, why would such a lowlife dare go to the authorities to report him?

And now, the man he was searching for, a noble of no small standing and influence, was nowhere to be found. It was maddening. So close ... I can't give up now. Burn him! Esy closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall, planning his next move. There was a hell nearby where he might be able to find something. He hated the places, especially here in Cairhien, but they served his purpose. Someone had to know something, and a hell was the best place to find that someone.

Pulling himself to his feet, he took a swig from his water skin to clear the crumbs from his throat and set off toward the place, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible. Difficult in a nation as short as Cairhien, but he managed to keep well hidden. Within a few minutes he had arrived, and took a seat at a table in a dark corner where he could examine everyone inside and hear many of the conversations, as well as watch the front door. You could never be too careful here.