There was no better way to cure the mind than alcohol in Gale's opinion. Thankfully, now that a good majority of the Healing was underway the Black Tower was moving somewhat back to normal. Albeit a little bit of a numb, uncertain normal. Most of those that had gone into battle walked in a haze now, going about a few average tasks - checking this or adjusting that. Gale only had eyes for the men slipping into the tavern for a drink.

Drinks were all but forced down throats with a couple guys behind the counter just filling mugs for the inevitable. Gale grabbed two and slipped outside of the tavern, eyes searching. When he found Geirrin, he  slipped over to the man quietly and just offered the drink without a word. There wasn't much that could be said.

Whether or not Geirrin took it, Gale slumped down beside him and started to drink from his own tall cup. The alcohol tasted strong, perhaps more of it than usual, with only hints of any other flavor. He swallowed another, watching Healers mill about and the knot of Asha'man around Storm Leader Covai sort out the next move for the Tower.

Despite Gale's protests to the following, he was one of the first of the men through the Gateway. Not that he didn't want to leave, exactly, but that he didn't want to leave while there were still wounded. Seeing as he had taken no grave injuries, a few scrapes and bruises hardly qualified him for Healing, he knew he could still help pull men free of the horrors of battle.

So he grabbed the second arm of a wounded Dedicated and hoisted the man up a little higher, helping to clear him through the Gateway and back to the Farm. "Healers!" He shouted with a few others though he really needn't bother. The Black Tower was many things but lazy and stupid it was not. The men knew their tasks and were there as quickly as the Gateways had opened. Gale helped lower the man down, out of the way of the oncoming foot traffic.

Then he hustled to the Gateway to help grab another wounded man, doing much the same. In this way he worked while the Asha'man poured their way back from battle. And all the while he searched for Geirrin. Granted, the man should be safe. Despite being from Tear, he was no fool. He'd hold the Gateway and make it out safely. None of this revenge business. Now wasn't the time.

That time would come, though.

That do no be now, Gale thought to himself. He still held strong to the Void, but saidin had long since left him. He was too weak to even think about seizing the Power and he had no skill with Healing. Not yet, at least, if he ever would. A few of the wounded were carried on stretchers made with the Power but a great many more of the Dedicated and Soldiers were as tired as he. He just hoped he didn't get yelled at for not using the Power on most of these tasks, pulling open coats and tying off wounds as best he could. It was not pretty work and Gale had little in experience. But it wasn't hard, for most of it, making these men safe enough that they could wait an extra moment or two for the Healers to arrive.

So Gale had his first taste for battle. It tasted of ash and death. Gale was glad to have it done.

For now, at least, the Light send it was done.

The trolloc forces were close enough to start loosing arrows now, but they battled harmlessly off the defenses put up by the Asha'man at the moment. What made it over the walls battered harmlessly off shields woven of air. Gale stood with a number of the other Soldiers, Dedicated, and Asha'man channeling all he could with whatever strength he had to save their skins. Light, but it wasn't easy.

He heard Storm Leader Covai shouting in the background, the man's voice heard over the explosions and screams of battle. When the man wanted to be heard, he was. Of course, it didn't hurt that the man used the Power to augment his voice for the real commands, anyway.

The female channelers thing made a great deal of sense. To be honest, Gale was glad to hear it. He was starting to wonder if watching those attacks just happen meant they were doing something he didn't know about yet. He supposed they still were, a great many things, but at least that much was made clear. So they were making circles? Gale was fairly certain they could all fight in a circle if that's where the power came from but he assumed that the Storm Leader meant something different.

That said, Gale had no intention of facing off against anything the Storm Leader said would kill them. Following orders, Gale hopped off the battlement and started toward the enclosement where the Gateways were being held. Naturally, he kept pace with Geirrin and the few others fighting alongside him to be sure everyone got out safely. The might as well cut their losses and escape than make more losses, he thought.

OOC: I have no idea, haha, I just copied it out of Arath's post because I couldn't remember the guy's name. Whoops.

Gale scrubbed a hand through his thick hair, trying to catch his breath and get a handle on the whole combat scenario. It seemed the Shadow didn't intend to give them a nice long breather. No sooner had the Asha'man begun to regroup than did the city erupt in chaos.

Gale watched, helpless with the rest, as lightning rained down on the stone city where Attack Leader Kirrisin led his strike team. There were no orders standing to charge in and help the man, so Gale remained with the rest of the team. As well he might seeing as they had their hands full with the Shadowspawn spilling over the horizon. Honestly, where could these Light-blasted beasts be coming from to be so numerous? Hadn't they all been killed in the Trolloc Wars? No matter.

He still held saidin along with near the entire offensive  line they had here. Traps had been lain in the fields and their defenses got their boosts where they could be managed. Now it was time for the heavy lifting. Again. He clasped a hand on Geirrin's shoulder.

"I think break time do be over," and gestured toward the oncoming forces. The battle-torn city moved to a secondary objective. Especially now that he was noticing the real threat. It had been hidden at first, seeing as there were so many little pockets of the Power being channeled all over the area, but he was putting a feel to it now. There weren't just Shadowspawn coming their way now. Light, but he hoped his training would pay off. Or at least pay off for his companions.

Gale had every intention of coming out of this alive.

"Fortune preserve me, this do no look as if it do be easy." He pulled more of the Power into him and -- with the rest of the  Soldiers, Dedicated, and Asha'man making up this part of the line -- he wove death as fast as he could. Their lives depended on it.

OOC: This might be late or I could be wrong on some details so I tried to keep it very general to make sure I didn't screw anything up. I haven't posted in a bit 'cause I wasn't sure if we were allowed or what we were waiting for, haha. If I'm still supposed to wait, I guess disregard this or whatever it is we do in that situation.

The thought came to him to perhaps lay down a very thin, sharpened line of Air across the field before their pit fall traps. Lay it high enough and the Shadowspawn were sure to charge  into it without seeing a thing. So long as they didn't come up against any of them that could channel, but as far as he knew none of the Shadowspawn could.

"I do no worry so long as you do be sane," he surveyed the battlefield, glad to have saidin gone for the moment. The added details weren't needed. "Do you think it do be possible to lay down Air like a razor wire? I do think that would slow down their lines, yes?" He pointed to where they'd have them set up, hidden before the traps they'd already put down. Some of the other Soldiers and Dedicated were clearing out the pits, resetting traps for the next wave. Light, Gale was so ready to go back to the Farm. Not without his friends, of course.

Geirrin's traps, or perhaps more accurately the Attack Leader's traps, would make a good addition to the team. He saw some of the other Dedicated already laying some of them in, setting up the more explosive ones farther from their front line.

"Whatever they do throw I know I plan to kill it." The emotionless quality the void gave his voice made the line especially chilling. Yet, everyone on this line felt the same way. The Light help them if they did not. Gale turned his eyes to the horizon, to the smoking town and the charred battle field. This was a war they were fighting. It was only now that the realization really sunk in and settled in the back of Gale's mind. All of the nations were at war with the Shadow and if this was a sign of things to come, they'd need to prepare themselves for it.

Gale released the Power almost gratefully. It was never really easy to release the Source but the continuous efforts of using so much of his energy so quickly turned him about a bit. Colors went out of the world and smells lost their potency. It was a blessing. But the sickness still lingered outside of the Void, the horror of what he'd seen and the carnage he inflicted lurked in wait for when that precious shield lowered in his mind. Gale kept the Void up against it, fearing for his mental state for the battle.

His voice held little emotion when he turned to check on Geirrin as they slipped back. Neither bore any damage so the healers pass by them quickly. Gale had yet to manifest any noticeable talents. He wondered if he'd enjoy Healing more than killing. Light, but he didn't like to kill - even if his victims deserved death more than any other creature. He prayed he never need get used to the carnage.

"How do you be?" He asked the Dedicated. "I did fear for your sanity but you do seem well now." Gale tapped his lip in thought, the Storm Leader's words replaying in his mind for a moment. There would be more of them? "Fortune prick me, I do no believe we do face the strongest wave, yes?" He surveyed the damage done from the battle, noted where their defenses had fallen.

"The fire wall you did weave did be quick thinking." Saved his life, likely. He suspected it wouldn't be the last time just as he suspected today would give him plenty of chances to repay the favor. "I do think our defenses do need some improvement. Do you have any ideas?"

Gale thought while Geirrin spoke, trying to come up with something that would be effective against ground troops.

But the old times were not meant to last. And it wasn't long into their drinking session that the topics wore thin. After all, it had only been a few months and there was not much Bailen could say to do more than put a smile on Gale's face. He found, despite all the hard, hard days he'd faced here at the Farm, that he was actually growing... well, fond might be too strong of a word but he did not detest this place.

"I do no know what your plans be, but I do suspect the Captain do be willing to take you back on board when your training do be finished." Bailen was saying, sipping perhaps his third or fourth mug of ale. "I suspect we do be able to put your channeling to good use," he added, almost as an afterthought. "Since Tear, I by chance did see some of these," he glanced about as if still leery of using the term, "men use the Power. I do bet you do find work keeping any pirates off our back, yes?"

Gale offered a good natured laugh to his friend but it never touched his eyes. Gale didn't have much experience with the Power yet, not enough to know all that could be accomplished with it, but he had no intention of being a bodyguard for his old sailing vessel. "I do no think that do be an option, Bailen. I do pledge my services to the Dragon Reborn." Gale took a long swallow from his mug and set it down quietly. "I do so appreciate the kind offer, but I fear I do need to decline."

Bailen nodded gravely and, for the moment, that seemed to be the end of that.

The trench held. For the moment, at least. Gale could scarcely manage more than two flows on his own, but he focused on making those weaves powerful. The strain was starting to get to him already - that was never a good sign.

Then Geirrin went down from an explosion. Gale himself had lost a step or two in surprise, but his legs were too sturdy for him to get dropped just yet. It took him a moment to realize it wasn't the explosion that had gotten to the man, however. It was the blood. Gale felt revulsion and disgust scratching at the Void surrounding him but he refused to give it purchase. There were other men down, vomiting or screaming in sudden rage or shock. Some in fear. But their leaders were strong and there were enough men that didn't stop the attack.

Gale stepped quickly in front of Geirrin, letting the Dedicated recover while he watched his back. The Shadowspawn were almost too close for fireballs, the backlash of the weave liable to hurt some of their own. He was forced to shrink the weave down to limit this, but now he could handle two of them at once. He wove quickly with the others, protecting those that had gone down in an effort to keep the line.

Abruptly, a wall of flame spread out in front of him. Gale followed the weave back to Geirrin who was in the midst of tying it off. Lightning was something Gale couldn't manage yet but he could help in other ways.

"How do you be?" Gale was in the midst of asking, shouting over the explosions that erupted all around them. But this was no time for chatter and whatever Geirrin's response was got lost in the thunderous crash of lightning. Dirt and blood washed over the line in varying degrees, sometimes a stray body part leaping its way somewhere near them. The smell of death was almost unbearable.

"Easy, Geirrin!" Gale shouted to be heard over the crashing bolts. "Fortune preserve me, he do be dead!" Or what passed for dead among the eyeless. The lightning had been getting too close for comfort in Gale's opinion. While none from their side seemed to hold any injuries, there were few strong enough to manage a laugh. Geirrin was one.

Their lines were holding, however. While a good many of the Shadowspawn had spilled into their defenses, only a handful could pull themselves out before they too were dispatched as easily as the rest. Gale couldn't see much beyond the firewall ahead of him and there were others going up along the line, some urged forward as if that alone could repel the horde's advance.

And Gale found himself suddenly joining in with a light chuckle. Light, but he was alive. The Shadow had tried and they were all still standing. The chuckle didn't last long, however.

There was still work to be done.

Gale held the Power tightly, forcing flows of Fire and Air outward so and so, weaving them as deftly as he knew how - trying to repel those that slipped between the fire shields. Despite the growing weariness in him, this wasn't half as hard as he'd expected. The Light send there was no second round.

Gale clasped hands with the Illianer man standing there in the doorway, flashing a wide grin and soon pulling the man into a tight hug. The embrace is released quickly and Bailen offers a smile of his own, though it might seem a touch forced.

"I hope you do have my pay," Gale said with an almost teasing smile. Bailen hefts a large bag of coins in one hand with a small grin of his own. "How do you be, Bailen?" Gale asked as he took the coins, no need to really count them. Bailen was a man of his word and even if the Captain might have some things to say about what Gale was or was not owed, he was sure Bailen had his back in that department.

"I do be well," Bailen responded, eyeing the black coated men beyond Gale a little warily. Aside from one or two, the men listening to another story someone was telling. Gale put it out of mind for the moment. "I see you do be well adjusted to living on land." Gale scoffed a bit.

"Ah, well, I do be fit for this life it seems. Come sit and share a drink with us." Gale said with a grin, clapping his hand on the man's shoulder. Bailen, still a touch uneasy, gave a very small smile and nod. "We do no have any of that Tairen stuff," Gale joked, figuring if anyone should get it that would be Bailen. The man looked almost sorrowfully at Gale, as if he were sorry for what had happened. Gale just ushered him to a table and got him a mug of ale.

"Tell me, how do be the ship?" Gale asked when Bailen had finished a long swallow. The man put down the mug and rubbed at his bare upper lip for a moment.

"Things do no be the same without you, Gale. We do no get the same shore leave as before on account of.." Gale filled in the blank. "And the Captain said if he do see you again he plans to beat you head to toe for, as he said, being a thankless stone carved fool."

Gale couldn't help himself from laughing a bit at that. After a moment, Bailen joined in as well. And just like that it was back to old times.

Light, but they were still coming. Gale would have thought this onslaught would have at least slowed the beasts. How could there be more than five of these cursed things left alive anyway? He continued channeling, weaving death as fast as he knew how. It was not easy to handle more than one weave at a time but he pushed himself for more. He had to. They were getting closer and he had no intention of dying.

It was the mad laughter at his side that made him feel, oddly, at ease. Gale glanced sideways at the Dedicated beside him, cocking a wide eyebrow in a question he didn't have the time to ask. Before he lost concentration completely, Gale put his eyes back to the fight. Where they winning? Light, but it seemed so. While more and more trollocs kept coming, Gale could see some patches growing in their line. Where a particularly large explosion hit, only a handful of trollocs rose to take the place of the fallen.

The ground shook from so many of the black coated men willing it to erupt. Gale felt the shock waves through his feet keenly, as if he were but a few feet from the massive explosions. He knew it was only through peer pressure that he stayed. You didn't abandon ship when there was hope left that you could put out the fire. Still, he knew the trembling in his legs wasn't all from the earth's rumblings. Then he saw the first of the eyeless.

Or, perhaps, it was better to say that it saw him. And Gale froze. He wasn't sure what it was at first that sent fear so thickly through him. Light, he was afraid, but this had the void absolutely trembling - threatening to crack. He held tight to saidin the taint threatening to overwhelm him, the Power threatening to destroy him. But his eyes rolled to the face without any, that black cloak only moving from the efforts of the wielder. The fade came forward, seeming to single him out. And it was all Gale could do not to collapse there, scarcely able to breathe. Every part of him trembled and the Void itself threatened to crack at any second.

A blast smashed up beneath the eyeless, sending the shadowspawn kicking and screaming to an eventual death. Gale sucked in a ragged breath. Another. But he didn't have time to sit and lick his wounds, comfort himself from what he'd just faced. He had to get back into the fight. For the Light. For the Dragon.

Light, for himself. Gale had no intention of dying here. So he wove death as fast as he could and prayed to the Creator that they'd all get through this.

Yeah, that's the site that I used to figure it all out.

So if I split stuff up, I guess it would be like..

Earth: 1 (4 final)

Fire: 3 (8 final)

Spirit: 3 (8 final)

Air: 1 (4 final)

Water: 2 (6 final)

With a strength of 30.

That about right? I hate math.

ooc: FINALLY! I've been waiting for Gale to see these little guys and get scared. Haha.

Gale found it pretty easy to imagine himself rich. It was a thought often entertained when his life were simpler. He supposed that was just the way of it with the common folk. He opened his mouth to say something, perhaps about what he was going to do with his cut, when the Attack Leader showed his face again. With the Power in him, Gale could hear and see things much more clearer than without.

Still, Gale wasn't about to eavesdrop. Okay, he was. And he listened to what had to be said seeing as Covai was not far off from where Gale and Geirrin stood. So there were trollocs. Gale felt something outside of the Void, something discomforting, something nerve wracking. He had a feeling he was in trouble. The horn sounded and Gale felt himself jump, at least in his own head. Gale had a strong stomach, years on a ship helped in some areas, but nothing could have prepared him for what started over the hill.

From this distance, with the Power at least, he could make out the mis-shapen human features on those hybrid bodies. The all-too-human eyes glaring over beaks or snouts or tusks. They stood about the height of an Ogier, hard to judge at the moment, but the resemblance ended with the broad shoulders. The wicked weapons they carried sent a shudder through Gale and he felt himself tug at the black collar of his coat as if it were too tight. They moved fast, as one might expect, and Gale felt himself take a step backward as if they were upon them. He almost forgot he held the Power.

"Fortune prick me, they do be ugly," Gale muttered as he came back to himself. "Now we do see if these weaves do bloody well." He was not the first to channel at the orders to come from above. Light, he wanted to turn tail and run. But no one else was running and this is what they had been trained to do. With Geirrin at his side he felt a little at ease.

Gale's weaves were no where near impressive in comparison to the Dedicated and Asha'man throwing fire and erupting earth as if it were child's play. Still, what he wove killed as easily as any other weave if not as many. Fire and Earth wove so and so made patches of earth erupt with loud explosions, tearing through half human half beast bodies almost laughably easy. He threw Fire with hints of Air, tossing small balls of flame at the oncoming bodies. Where his strikes landed, shoulders or chests exploded. Sometimes he'd get lucky and nail two or three with one blast before the explosion dissipated.

At this rate, nothing was going to make it to the barricades they'd taken so long to put up.

All right, so I think I'll go with

Air: 6

Water: 4

Spirit: 8

Fire: 8

Earth: 4

Which makes it 30 out of 33 right? And if I'm a Soldier, my power is a third of that right now? I'm not even going to attempt the math. I'm horrid.

So we'll see what happens.

I requested it when I just made my character several months back. I think so, anyway, I might not have sent them to the right place so I'm sure it's my fault. Anyway.

I was under kaze_no_faia@yahoo.com is the e-mail I used and I may or may not have sent a message her but I seriously just can't remember.

Four or five drinks later, Gale was still feeling a little tired but much more happy so far as life was concerned. After all, the farm situation wasn't so bad and he could survive being off a ship for a good long while. He should have been proving that the last few months he'd been here. Jas was in the midst of a story or another about what had happened in training today. Gale listened as intently as anyone could while drinking, laughing and carrying on with the others that had gathered for the story.

"So there we were in the midst of cooking and I suppose when Breon couldn't get his water to boil, he got a little.. angry," there were mutters that such could be expected from Breon. The Soldier was nowhere to be found this evening. Gale assumed the rest of the tale would explain it. "So he grabs it to throw it out, right, but he's heated the metal pot," laughter starts at the image of the man burning his hands, "and naturally he drops the pot and the water spills out into the dirt."

Gale takes another long swallow of his drink only to realize he's finished it. Another gets ordered up. The listeners lean in, grins wide on their faces. Gale couldn't judge, however, for he was doing the same.

"And the fool, not wanting to miss out on a chance to express anger, picks up the mud and pot in flows of Air and hurls it behind him." Jas pauses for effect. He also glances around to be sure a certain someone isn't listening in. "Right into our Attack Leader's face!" Knee slapping laughter follows, the image of the stern Attack Leader's face covered in mud is too good an opportunity to pass up.

"Where is Breon," one of the other Soldiers was saying, "I'm going to buy him a drink."

Jas starts laughing, "that might be hard to do. The Attack Leader has him on guard duty for the rest of the month. To build character, he says." More laughter. But the rest of the conversation Gale misses as there's a very familiar man standing in the doorway. Bailen. From the ship.

"Fortune prick me," Gale said quietly, "I do no expect to find you here." He rose to his feet, setting aside another glass he didn't remember emptying. Gale headed over to give the man a hug.

And to collect the money the ship owed him.

I suppose I need my OP scores and such.

Who was I supposed to talk to to get my number thing? I'm pretty sure I tried like twice and never heard back and just forgot about it assuming I would get it as I started to channel at the Tower.

So, um.. yeah. I feel like I'm just now learning how to play and I feel really dumb for playing wrong this whole time, haha. Not that I haven't been playing him fair or correct, I just didn't know where the number system was or how it worked but now I found it and have a basic idea soooo.. what's the deal?

Same with WS I guess, but it looks like that was already answered and I can leave it as is. Thanks.

Character Name: Gale Nalineo

Rank: Soldier (But I'm working a little harder now to actually move him up since I didn't know what I had to do before to raise him)

Would you like to hold the bond, be bonded, or are you willing to do either? Either

If you are bonded, would you be willing to be bonded to an Aes Sedai who holds bonds to other BT Chars? Maybe, depends on the situation

If you are holding the bond, are you willing to bond more than one Aes Sedai? Depends on the situation.

Do you have any questions or concerns?

Well, it'll probably take some time to get me bonded anyway since I got a lot to do to make Asha'man but when is this whole thing taking place? Definitely want to keep it in character and I have some silly ideas to do that but of course I'd keep this serious and make it last.

Luckily, seems that the posting situation is covered. As an unrelated thing, where do I go to read about what's going to happen? I have a lot of questions to ask just on storylines and where my character is allowed to go and so on and so forth that I just have no idea where to go for.. haha.. I guess if I paid attention or journeyed around more I'd find it, but anyway..

When I'm allowed to bond, I'd have fun with it and keep it up.

Gale wiped the sweat from his brow with a black sleeve. The fabric was rough against his forehead, but the man didn't mind. Light, but these coats were warm. It was the end of another long day and Gale was pretty sure he knew the perfect way to end it. Alcohol.

With Jas in tow, another Soldier he'd come to be friends with, the two went in search of a little drink. A true little one, Gale knew first hand how dreadful the experience was to wake up with a hangover. Especially when call every morning was quite early. Gale had run enough extra laps for being late that he was getting rather tired of too royally inebriating himself.

Drinking, thank the Light, wasn't actually forbidden on the Farm. Gale wasn't sure he could make it through the training were that so. Still, a good deal of the men here vented their frustrations out in the bars. Gale could consider himself one of them. While there were not so many women as one would hope, mostly wives of other men training, Gale had been able to make due with just drinking. And without Bailen and the others to coax him on he'd been able, for the most part, to keep out of the stupid dares.

He fingered the collar around his neck, pulling it open just a little more as if it were suddenly too tight. The memory of his first day here was still fresh in his mind and he had the feeling that things were about to get a whole lot worse. Blessing or curse, Gale was okay with learning to channel. It was the going mad part he didn't look forward to.

So Jas and himself settled into one of the few taverns and ordered a drink to get the evening started. And what an evening it would turn out to be.

OOC: Basically playing this after the whole inter-division thing. Don't mind if anyone comes in, just going to do bar things and have a past fellow show up and deliver Gale's payment from working on the ship way back when.

Name: Gale Nalineo

Learning Saidin: Thread 1 -> 4 posts, http://forums.dragonmount.com/index.php/topic,30265.0.html - OP Class

Thread 2 -> 4 posts, http://forums.dragonmount.com/index.php/topic,25141.0.html - Basic Weaves Class

Non-Saidin learning:

Free Roleplay: Thread 1 -> (in progress) http://forums.dragonmount.com/index.php/topic,35305.0.html - Something More Destructive

Thread 2 -> 5 posts, http://forums.dragonmount.com/index.php/topic,33994.0.html - Time to build

Not sure if that last one counts. No idea on OP scores.. never did get that far. I'd have posted a progress thing sooner but, honestly, for some reason I didn't know this thing existed until today. Haha.

Anyway, I'll keep it goin'.

Current One Power scores - I think

Earth: 1 (4 final)

Fire: 3 (8 final)

Spirit: 3 (8 final)

Air: 1 (4 final)

Water: 2 (6 final)

So I guess actual strength would be 30 since I had 33 buying points and I'm waiting on skill.

Gale was much more comfortable with the tasteless jokes and dark humor than with the dark thoughts trying to creep into his mind now. He held saidin tightly, struggling with control. The revolting smell of death and destruction came all the stronger with the Power inside him and the taint made nausea leap to all new heights. Gale had never been in a fight this grand - Light, a fight this big could only be called a battle. Gale had no experience with battles.

Yet, who here did? Even with the silver sword pin adorning Geirrin's collar, the man seemed to know as much of war as Gale himself. The seriousness of Geirrin's words hit him and Gale could only nod gravely. The tension in his shoulders seemed unbearable. Light, but he wanted this to be over already.

"They will get the nastiest weaves that I can make. I recommend you do the same!" Geirrin finished.

"That I do promise," Gale agreed and clasped the man on the shoulder. Gale didn't want to see these things any closer than he had to. "You just do no go disappearing again. We do have a ship to finish and I do plan to see it done." He squeezed the man's shoulder and let his hand fall. The Light send he didn't have to bury any friends today. Gale preferred just burying the enemies.

Then again, with the weaves he intended to use, there wouldn't be much left to bury.

The trenches went quickly enough with the Soldiers hard at work on them. Falling back in line with Geirrin after the first trench had been dug, Gale paid attention to the sharp spikes driven up by the man. He watched it twice and started copying the weave, quickly developing a sense of it either out of necessity or simplicity. It didn't take long for them to have rather decent fortifications against ground troops created.

Still, recalling how easily he'd been bested in every shielding excersize... Well, he put it out of mind. These were much stronger and from what they'd heard so far (at least what he'd heard) there were no channelers among the ranks they were facing. So these should hold well. Knowing what he did of attack weaves and assuming the Asha'man knew much more, Gale assumed this battle should be over long before the Shadowspawn could draw near.

"Fortune prick me if they do no find trouble getting to us," Gale said while they were building up pockets of earth to fall back in should they be overrun. Bottlenecking was a smart tactic, he knew, though he'd hardly seen it used on a grand scale. Air sheilds would have to make up the rest of their defenses if arrows should come. There was no other way around it, truthfully. Gale ran his hand over the near unfamiliar handle of his sword, not relishing the thought of brandishing the silver blade.

"If we do see a gathering of Ogier that do be mistook for trollocs, I swear on my aged mother I do be ready to beat the fool that do carry the message here." Gale had not seen the body of the man that had come from the Borderlands. While there were plenty of midlanders that might mistake an Ogier for a trolloc, Gale suspected the Borderlanders would know the difference if they fought the mythical creatures on a daily basis. The dark mood of their current setting almost forced them to lighten the load a bit, however. Still, no smile floated above the Illianer's beard as he looked out over the horizon, unsure of what lay ahead of them.

Saidin was a thing alive inside of him, filled half with the Power and half with the oily taint it seemed. He could feel it all around him as if the entire valley were channeling. He sensed the ability in Geirrin, the man holding more than Gale himself could. And there were others, some stronger and some weaker, that walked among them. It was almost like being at the Black Tower and yet Gale felt so... open. So unprotected and exposed here. It wasn't long ago that men like him were brought to the Tower to be gentled and here they were about to fight for the Dragon Reborn and help hold the world against the Shadow.

These were different times. Gale found himself he had been born under better circumstances. Or just born in a bottle of Andoran wine. The Tairen stuff made people do funny things.

In the push through the Gateways, Gale lost sight of Geirrin again. He, again, found himself one of the latter to slip through the Gateway. The sword strapped too him felt heavier than usual, oddly enough. He did his best to pay it no mind, having no real intention of drawing it. He'd been drilled hard in the One Power the sword a second thought in his training thus far. He knew what end to hold but talent ended there.

The first thing to hit, of course, was the smell. Gale scrunched up his nose for a moment and promptly put it out of mind. A sailor could deal with bad smells easily. Aside from this, there wasn't much to see. Ravens circled the sky a few miles away from them. Plumes of dark smoke littered the sky, darkening the horizon. It was a bleak setting and much chillier than at the Tower, Gale noted. A shiver ran through him at the change in temperature.

With no standing orders at first, Gale was content to search black coats and tanned faces for any familiar faces. He had yet to see Jas anywhere near nor Asha'man Alean. Perhaps they'd show their faces somewhere further down the line. Attack Leader Arath got pulled to the Storm Leader along with the other Attack Leader whose name Gale already forgot. The booming voice was hard to miss and drew him momentarily from his searching frenzy.

"There you do be," Gale said quietly as he slipped up beside Geirrin, "I did think I lost you and the battle do no even start yet." The smile on his face didn't touch his eyes. This was not a time for jokes but Gale could not help his tongue in the face of this evil. It had always been a way to relieve tension when anger or alochol didn't do the job.

Then Arath was choosing his men and Gale found himself not selected. This wasn't really a surprise, he had only brawling experience in tavern bars to back him up. His experience with the Power spanned only a few months. So, when the Storm Leader's command came up it was time to start on the trenches. And start he did.

The One Power filled him as much as he could allow it, having no reason to restrain himself or hold back (and when did they here at the Tower? Hold back was not a term often used.) The sickly sweet taint overwhelmed him like the thick foam of an unruly wave. Gale felt another cool shiver run down his spine and this time it had nothing to do with the weather. He pressed on, working with another Soldier in line only familiar by face. They started tunneling their way down several feet to begin on the fortifications while other men in black coats began on the rest.

With no concept of how long they had to work, Gale didn't see a point in wasting time. Thick weaves of Air started ripping up earth, hollowing out trenches four or so feet deep and thick enough for two men to nearly walk through side-by-side. The work wasn't wildly challenging yet that was preferred. Gale suspected he'd have to exert himself much further than his usual limits today. No sense getting all the wind pulled out of his sail now.

Gale was one of the latest to arrive, watching the Gateways slide open just after the last of Asha'man Arath's words. Over the last few months, he'd garnered some ideas of rank but he still was a bit fuzzy on all the details. Nevertheless, he'd only had the barest of sword training (he knew which end to hold, at least) and heavy training with the One Power. But was he ready for battle?

Noting Geirrin somewhere near the front, Gale made his way to him. While they weren't the best of friends, and Geirrin a rank above him, the young Soldier still felt a kinship to the man. They were in the midst of building a ship together, after all, and this was the first he'd got to use the Power to create something that didn't blow another thing up.

"This do be a joke, yes?" Gale asked the Dedicated, a hand clasping to the shoulder of the man in a show of friendship, perhaps. "We do no be going to war now. The Last Battle do no be here." Well, of course this wasn't the Last Battle. Gale was of a mind to go find a few glasses of Andoran wine, though, and keep himself out of sight until this was all over. What was he doing here, anyway?

Still, Geirrin didn't seem to have much chance to respond as soon the two of them had found themselves ushered into what seemed one of the larger forces. Gale felt his eyebrows raise and swallowed. He wasn't sure if he could kill anything with saidin but shadowspawn would be his first test. How hard could it be? They were only the epitome of the Dark One's army. Gale swallowed again and wondered how a drunken dare could have ever gotten him this far.

Gale gave a brisk nod in response, not one for lengthy replies to orders. Ship life had some applications for the Black Tower, even if those applications were few. The young man moved his way to the planks once more and began to work.

Shaping had been relatively easy when compared to this new task. Managing so many flows at once held difficulty for him. The difficulty was slowly lowering as his own mastery increased but the strain was still there. He channeled through the Power, both repulsed and reveling in the sick sweetness of it, weaving Air where it was needed to lift planks, hold them in place. Another weave for the hammer, one for the nail.

He supposed the advantage to all this came in not missing the nail for a thumb. Still, with how much extra effort got expounded from the task, a bruised finger would be much more appreciated. Gale was not one for complaints (not without a few rounds in him, anyway) so he worked in silence and found some solace in the memories the job brought back for him. In a sense, it was like fusing his old life with his new one. Gale was reborn, almost, in this project. Hopefully it would all turn out well.