Ahh! I'm so extremely sorry to leave you hanging like this! :-[ Work has just been terrible. To make matters worse, I'm leaving town for a week right now. I'm really very sorry. After I return next Saturday, I promise to dive straight into this. I just hope you're still interested then!

I was thinking of making him a Captain, like Musenge in the books. Would that be ok?

He walked through the yard nonchalantly, avoiding the clusters of trainees being battered and berated by the grizzled trainers. His eyes were fixed towards the horizon and his expression was serene and unconcerned. It had reason to be. Oram had learnt first hand the uses of weapons and other aspects of fighting. He was not a warrior or soldier by any account. But he was more dangerous than his thin frame would suggest. He had behind him the weight of experience. He had no concerns whatsoever concerning the training. He would triumph over whatever obstacles were thrown his way, without doubt. He smiled grimly as he neared his destination.

He dodged the backwards running couple and walked up to the woman in the center - a woman with a most severe expression on his face. It baffled Oram as to why those in the Fortress were not more happy. Even among the Children, the Light did not shine on all.

He walked up to the woman and bowed. "May the Light shine upon you, esteemed instructor. I am Oram Volden, new recruit to the Children." Saying it never failed to give him a thrill. "I have here a note for you from the Master of Arms. I believe you are to be my trainer for the duration." He extended one hand. His fingers lightly held a strip of paper that fluttered gently in the breeze. He waited with infinite patience.   

Hey, sorry for disappearing. I hope you're still interested? I asked permission for holding the RP from my Division head and after she gives it (or not, but I'm hoping she does), I'll get the TTPC bios together. I had three or four in mind:

1) A Messenger of the Light - a recently hired maid at your noble house. I'm thinking she finds out you're Aes Sedai. More roles later on.

2) Another Messenger of the Light - a helper to a grocery merchant. does deliveries. takes the maid's message to my PC. More roles later on.

3) Some official of the town - takes the Messengers in at some point for rumour-mongering and such.

Hmm, do you think we need any more? I'm not even entirely sure we just can't use NPCs for these.  ???

He kept his eyes fixed upon the Head Clerk as the man wrote down what Oram had told him. He had a feeling that the man did not like him. What was more, he had a feeling that the man did not like anyone. He listened calmly as Roudal looked up and directed him to find the Quartermaster and then promptly went on to read a letter. Oram raised an eyebrow. He had expected directions.

His expectations, however, were quite summarily ignored. He gave a frosty little smile an bowed to the Head Clerk as he was told to..."Scoot". "My humble thanks to you, good master. May the Light always shine on you." Then he turned and exited the office.

The sun beat down upon the stone of the Fortress. The very earth radiated heat. The voices of the Children and the servants mingled with the clatter of wooden swords. A wind made the pennants on top of the ramparts flutter; the sunburst wove in and out of sight. A deep, deep pleasure welled inside him, beating along with his heart. It filled him, pressed against him, threatened to overwhelm him. He felt...alive! "I am a Child of the Light." He whispered to himself. The dam burst and a single tear rolled down his cheeks. "I am a Child of the Light." He whispered again.

A few minutes later found Oram walking down a passageway. Cones of light penetrated the shadows, a lesson in the dichotomy of the Light and the Dark. Oram passed from the sunlight - it illumined him, setting fire to his pale blonde hair - into the darkness - his features were cast in stone, grim and rough he seemed, capable of atrocities unimaginable. He reached a door set deep into the stone wall. Knocking smartly, he entered.

"I come to seek the Quartermaster." He announced gravely. "I was instructed to do so by the Head Clerk." He folded his arms and smiled. "I just joined the Children of the Light."

So, basically the Messengers latch on to your Red's family for being related to Aes Sedai? That sounds great! Your Red is recently raised and not yet ageless right? So they'd have to find out that she was a sister, somehow. But there's plenty of ways to do that. So we have a start! Now I just need to flesh out some TTPC bios and entice a couple more RPers and we can get on to a rocky start!  :D

Quisalas - Right. I'll mail a bio to that address soonish. One q. - what's the highest rank he can possibly hold here in Randland?

Quisalas - I've been thinking about making a Seanchan character - in the Deathwatch Guard. Would that be possible then? I also just sent you a PM about something else.  :)

I'm just gonna assume it is my decision, unless I'm corrected... ;D

Alright let's see what I can come up with -

i)Elmora seems just right. It's big enough to be believable. Let's go with Elmora.

ii)Let's decide what your Red character would be doing in Elmora. Is she on a secret Red Ajah mission or is it something more personal? Since it's your character, it's totally your privilege to think up a reason suitable for her personality.

iii) The Messengers have been in town for a couple of months. They're a devious lot. They have enough money with them (almost all of them are from rich merchant or noble families) to just sit and eat, but instead they have taken up jobs around town, the better to spot Darkfriends. They don't flaunt themselves, though certain rumours about the group have been spread about. They have investigated the most prominent families, the law and order situation at the town, the level of "Light friendliness of the people." They are a seriously dedicated bunch of nuts. They do nightly patrols and usually meet at pubs or inns to discuss their plans. Perhaps your Red sister could come across them in such an inn.

iv) Now the most trouble I'm having is coming up with a plausible reason for the Messengers to latch onto a certain family (well-to-do, best if minor nobility) as Darkfriends. They see Darkfriends everywhere for sure, but still - what compels them to suspect this particular family? Any ideas on that count? 

Ah, you're new here as well, but if you can ask any friends on DM to take a look at this, I'll be grateful. Someone playing the victim would enrich the RP much more. Thanks!

Um, is the NPC/TTPC thing dependent upon me? If it is then I don't think any bios are needed. Except for a couple of characters, I don't think any of the other chars will ever be used again. Jumping should be just fine. Though, for convenience's sake, if the char is a Messenger his/her history might be discussed in the planning thread to avoid any discrepancies.

Ooh, a Red sister. That would be great, as long as you can fit her in the story somehow. As an Aes Sedai she must dislike Light zealots like my char in any case and she wouldn't want innocent Taraboners to be branded Darkfriends. We can definitely work something out there.

Hi! I'm looking for someone to do a retro-character development RP for my CoL character. It's not for a raising requirement, just to explore my character a bit more. Maybe, if it goes well, it could serve as a basis for a future Raising Req. RP.

The premise of the RP would be something from my character's past. He is a zealot about Lothair Mantelar and did some gruesome stuff back in Amador (his hometown) in his early and mid teens in the name of the Light. The City Guards ran him and his gang out of the country and they took refuge in Tarabon. They didn't change their ways and continued "Darkfriend hunting" there. So, I want to make this RP one of those "hunting" incidents that eventually lead my char's gang to leave town and head further north-west in Tarabon.

This would take place four to five years before the current timeline. I don't have a concrete plan in mind for the RP, other than its setting and any help on that count would be much appreciated. Other than that, there are two kinds of characters I need.

1) Members of the gang under my character - they call themselves the Messengers of the Light

2) Townspeople unfortunate enough to have been branded Darkfriends by the gang

As I said before, I don't have a clear plot in mind. Basically, the gang take it upon themselves to "hunt" Darkfriends in the town and come upon a particular family. Why is something I need to work in. Intrigue ensues. The gang alerts the local guard, talks with prominent folk, spreads malicious rumours, threaten the family in question, invade their home and eventually murder one of their number. The details are yet to be fleshed out.

This will probably need NPCs, since I don't know if there would be any PC characters at that time in Tarabon.

I hope at least a couple of people are attracted to this, at least.  :)

Thanks

He raised an eyebrow at the Head Clerk's brusqueness. On the contrary, he felt he had every right to be smug. But the old man did not know and need not know of the reasons for that. He took his seat, wiping the smile off of his face. He clasped his hands together and set them on his lap, fixing his eyes on the table. He gazed at the papers lying there cursorily, not really trying to read them upside down. He moved his eyes to the face of the Clerk. He was sipping tea and thoroughly ignoring Oram without any effort.

A look about the room brought the dart-ridden portrait of a dragonish woman to his attention. A little thought told him she was likely the Head Clerk's wife. It was highly unlikely he would have allowed such a practice inside the office unless it was and he hated her rather deeply. No wonder the man was bitter. He did not even get the pleasure of serving the Light in a satisfactory manner, holed up in this little room, with his documents and folders.

He felt a little sorry for the Clerk in his aloof way. It was a fleeting emotion. The Head Clerk spoke then and drove all other thoughts from his head. He listened and answered instantly. "My name is Oram Volden. I am 21 years old. I am Amadician; I grew up in Amador."

It was a possibility, he had to admit, that the Clerk may know his father. Volden senior had never been more than a grunt, insincere in his service to the Light, but an archivist like the Clerk may remember the name. Still, it hardly mattered. What did matter was that as soon as the Clerk finished the innocuous, mundane little task of jotting down what he had said, he'd be inducted into the Children.

The sky wept. Cold rain lashed the streets and roofs of Amador, streaking the walls of the city. It was an unseasonable storm. It spoke of the Dark One’s touch upon the world.

Volden reclined in a hard, wooden chair, staring at the gusts of wind that rolled the rain about. His eyes burned feverishly. A stiff smile hung crooked upon his lips. If anyone had come upon him that instant, they would have recoiled from him in fear. Volden did not inspire much else in most people.

The door creaked. He turned to look at it. A slender figure, cloaked in blue, entered. Raindrops spattered upon the floor as she pulled off her hood. Grim auburn eyes looked into Volden’s, before the woman bowed slightly. Volden rose and bowed as well.

“What have you learned?” He asked, his voice low and cool. “You are not forgotten.” The woman said, in a musical voice. “Your house is empty. No one lives there now. There’s talk of it being demolished to make way for a lordling’s estate. The Watch has a record of you still. But they’re not out to get you. And once you become a Child, they will not dare to. The innkeeper of the Blue Boar remembers you, or so he says. But he remembers a shy, reclusive boy. He is no threat. There is nothing more standing between you and Childhood.”

There was a petulant undertone to her words, which Volden noticed. He smiled. Reaching over, he clasped her hands in his. “Your time will come. You are my last and truest follower. I would never forsake you. Believe me, for I swear by the Light.”

The women flushed visibly and nodded. Otherwise, her face remained without expression. Volden let go of her hands and walked back to the window. Lightning flashed. “Tomorrow.” He whispered. “Tomorrow, I embrace my destiny.”

The Sun shone down harshly, making the walls of the Fortress gleam like incandescent jewels. The puddles and ponds made by the storm of the night before were shrinking fast before the Sun’s glare. And so shall the Light triumph over the Shadow. Volden thought to himself, as he walked down the pathway to the Fortress.

A deep excitement made him tremble visibly. He was not nervous, though it may have seemed so to an onlooker. He had no fear. Here was where he belonged, had belonged all his life. At last, he had come to collect his due, to embark upon the life the Light had meant for him.

He was clothed entirely in white, though of course no sunburst adorned his cloak. He would not be so impudent as to do that, not until he earned that right. As it was, the sunlight streaked off his clothes, lending an ethereal glow to his spindly body. People glanced aside when they looked at him; the Light hurt their eyes. Sinners all. He thought, smiling grimly.

The Fortress loomed above him. He strode up to the door set into the gates, his eyes glowing. He entered, curtly asking the guards the way to the Head Clerk’s office. One of them smirked at seeing his outfit. Volden did not care. Soon, he would be as far above as them as the Light willed him to be. He walked forward into the courtyard.

Children, in all their majestic glory, abounded. The yellow sunburst hung high in pennants that wafted lazily in the summer wind. The clatter of swords, the whine of arrows, the buzzing of conversations filled his ears. He grinned, from ear to ear. His heart felt about to burst with glee. Soon, brothers and sister…I shall be one of you. He thought.

He found the Clerk office and entered. The scribbling of quills filled the air. The man closest to the door looked up as he entered. Volden nodded to him and then moved forward towards the Head Clerk. As befitted the Head, he was seated at a desk at the end of the large office, before a desk massive and cluttered.

Volden settled himself before the table. It was time to put off his self-absorbed air. He cleared his throat to draw attention to himself. “Greetings of the Light, good sir.” He smiled, a frigid grin on his gaunt face. “I wish to join the Children of the Light.”