At first the stay with the Tinkers was nice, but their way of life tiring to a veteran soldier. They seemed to pity him for his way of life. He had given up wearing his sword around them, but that didn't seem to lessen their judgement of him. He found out later it was the scars, the largest being his missing left hand. He tried to explain that it was the doing of a Darkfriend assassin, and if he didn't kill him then many more would have died, but they only lectured him about their bloody Way of the Leaf. Even trying to explain he had also protected these lands by killing Trollocs and Myrddraal, but their Way of the flaming Leaf even discredited those achievements. He had given up trying to explain himself to the bloody flaming Tinkers and kept away from them as much as possible. As a senior officer, he was obligated to meet with their leaders when Calder required him to, but he kept his interactions to official business only. He would do his duty because it was his bloody duty, but he didn't have to like it.

He had taken to eating and sleeping at the edge of camp, usually by himself, while the rest were dancing and singing with the Tinkers. He was rarely left alone though. Tinkers weren't exactly keen on drinking and gambling, they didn't seem to need either, but the Band was always up for one or the other... usually both. He leaned back onto a fallen tree and lit his pipe, took a swig of ale, and idly tossed his dice onto the ground.

Well I looked back through old boards and RPs and it turns out I am IC 2nd in command to our resident ta'veren. *pokes Quibby* Which would technically give me freedom to start threads on my own, as well as bring some people along with me. As #2 I technically don't belong to any one division, so I can work freely with anyone doing almost anything. As far as I can tell, we are on the road from Tanchio to ??? *pokes Quibby* with Calder and the Daughter of the Nine Moons, so thats kinda where our setting is. Since I haven't been privy to the main plotline or to what we're doing next in a while, I think we can start off easy. Something Band...y... drinking, gambling? That way we can get the rust off our old characters and figure out who is around *pokes Quibby* and what we can do next.

Thats my suggestion. Any others?

The last RP I was involved with had us getting Calder out of Tanchio I believe. I had given up being Commander IC to make room for him, but I don't really remember if I went back down to Banner Captain or what. Any RPs I do would kinda depend on that. I think we had talked about me heading a special forces/honor guard for the Commander but I don't know how far that discussion went.

Wow, lets see... Drea, Lilli, Ehlana, Schaduw, Duko. Those were the Banders I remember. I was mostly SG back in the olden days, Jaem was my 2nd character.

Oh dang thats longer than me! I started right after New Year 2000. Those were good times.

The only split I can think of is when RP divisions split from OOC orgs, but that was a looooong time ago

Actually looking back on the old boards, I was the Commander back in 2008. I guess it did play out. lol I forgot about my Red Hand ter'angreal too. And I don't know what this split it that everyone is talking about so I'd say that was after the last time I RP'ed.

Actually I don't really remember when that was. I think it was also a storyline that never fully developed in the actual RP. It was quite a while ago though. I've been in and out of this place almost since the beginning of the site and so things tend to run together sometimes.

Wow since Quibby posted I have to also. I might consider RPing again if there are people willing to actually go through with it.

Jaem Caran

Ex-Commander of the Band of the Red Hand

or

some new guy... depends on how bored I am

I liked the rankings of the badasses via duels with Demandred. Its finally settled... mostly. Gawyn = Pretty tough, still pretty much a blademaster. Galad = Really tough, true blademaster. Lan = Ridiculous, 2 Myrddraal??? 2? and took out Demandred after fighting all day.

Nice shout out to Kathana and Jimmy in Ebou Dar

After the ordeal in the White Tower, Peaten finally allowed himself some leisure time. Hunting was one of his hobbies. In the waking world, he tested himself often against dangerous game, but that was easy. Worms and Fades in the Blight, and the haunts of the Mountains of Dhoom. But hunting in the Blight was wasteful. He would rather they lived up to their potential and fought against the Light. The Chosen may choose to fight amongst themselves, and waste valuable Shadowspawn and Friends of the Dark, but Peaten was not so powerful he could waste an ally. He hunted men once in a while, those foolish enough to enter the Blight. The Seanchan beasts... now that was hunting! In the World of Dreams, he hunted wolves mostly. If a random fool entered in his presence, they were taken as well... if they stayed long enough. Then there was the Void. Demandred, and later Lanfear, had shown him the empty space outside the Pattern. Before he could appear physically in the waking world, he had taken to haunting the void itself, entering the dreams of unsuspecting men and women. It was dangerous, as he could end up at the mercy of that person's dream, but the fun was worth it. Sometimes those who died in their sleep did not do so of natural causes.

He entered the void to swim among the dreams of others. Before long though, he felt another presence. It was not one of the Chosen, he knew what they felt like. And one did not have a physical form in this place, so it would be impossible to tell until they went back into the World of Dreams. Curious, he waited.

As soon as the presence left, he followed...

...he was suprised to see it was a face he knew. He had rescued her once when she was a damane. He walked plainly towards her. It was not wise to startle a Dreadlord. "The void is a dangerous place to be if you don't know what you're doing."

If she was suprised at seeing him or at him knowing where she was, she showed no sign. "The Void?"

"The place outside the Pattern between the Waking World and the World of Dreams. I assume you have never been there before tonight. Maybe once or twice. It is much like the Dream, in that if you enter by accident, you don't stay very long."

Peaten allowed himself a smile. He even drank down the tea in one big gulp. He could allow himself as much pleasure for this occasion. "Excellent news, Aes Sedai." He stood, looking at the map. "Guards will not be necesary." He looked into Alia's eyes and grinned again, this time it was the grin of a dark bloodust. "In fact, I would advise any guards, servants, or Aes Sedai you have any need for to stay away from the area. You have made my search much easier. If you have contact with any Dreamer, or have access to a ter'angreal, you can find me in the Dream World in the Blight. I am often out hunting here in the southlands, but usually I go back to either the area of Malkier; the Tower of the Black Dawn, a few hundred leagues north of Kandor; or the area around Shayol Ghul. If not, as a woman of such high influence as you are, you can have a Myrddraal send word to Shayol Ghul itself. My service is not cheap, but you will have one freebie. My thanks again, Aes Sedai."...

...and Peaten steppind into the World of Dreams. He would give her a few minutes to make the arrangements to get her people out of the area. The waiting would be torture, but it would also make it that much sweeter in the end. Idly, he thought about anyone one the Master List that might be taken out while he was here. He had thought about it before, but no one of any real concern was here in the Tower at the moment. Even the Amyrlin was to live, as ordered by the Nae'blis... for now. His thought was only on the Dragon Reborn and those other two country boys he had at his side. So far, even Peaten had been unsuccesful at adding those three to the number of men who had fallen before him. He would have to settle for the smaller pleasure of reuniting with his precious weapon.

After enough time had passed, he made his way through the hallways of the White Tower inside Te'aran'rhoid. Finally he found the door of the guardroom, deep in the underbelly of the Tower. It was a section of the Tower he had never been to before...

...and stepped out into it and found out why. The dim light was too dark for even Peaten to see. He felt around for a torch, then lit it with the flint he was carrying. The room had all sorts of objects of the Shadow. On his left was the skeleton of a Trolloc with a ram's features. Next to it was a glass container, which probably contained its dark blood. Why blood? Peaten had studied the work of Aginor, but could not understand most of it. To his right was an assortment of Trolloc and Myrddraal weapons and armor. Among those items, Peaten found what he was looking for. His ashanderei stood leaned against the back corner, black blade seeming to eat up the little light the torch gave off. He walked towards it and grabbed it in his right hand. He could feel the darkness oozing off of it. It made him want to do only one thing... kill. With it, he was now a man with three souls, all of them as black as the darkest night. It was an object of power, though not the One Power... the True Power maybe, no one but the Great Lord himself knew how the ink black waters around Shayol Ghul were formed.

He looked around. As pitiful as this collection of dark artifacts was, any knowledge could be used against his cause. He packed away any manuscripts he could find without reading them, he could sort through them later. He took the Myrddraal's sword and some of the armor. Most of it would not fit him properly, but what did would offer excellent protection. The rest was shattered or set alight. He was sure there were other rooms with similar artifacts, but he didn't have the time now to search. Even if he did, his blade was singing death to him, and he could not waste the time it would take. He grabbed the black boiled-leather mask that he always wore on his missions and put it over his face. It was a grim facade, showing only his two icy blue eyes.

The door was locked, of course, on the outside, but Peaten, all six feet seven inches and nearly three hundred pounds summoned ayende kicked through it. There was nobody outside, but he walked towards where the main doors to the hallway were. He kicked the double doors, hoping to break these too, but they were too strong. He heard leather scrape outside. He took the torch and lit the ancient wood on fire, hoping to weaken it. When it had caught, Peaten threw down the torch and began kicking again. Each time, the door gave a little more. Finally, with both doors completely on fire, he kicked through. The lone guard took a step back as Peaten stepped through the flames towards him, black blade poised to strike.

"Stop you! In the name of the White Tower and the Amyrlin Seat!"

"Call for help, Madock."

"How... do you know my name?"

"Call for help, I say."

The man screamed as the blade came down across his chest, from left shoulder to right hip, just shallow enough not to kill him instantly. The screams of the wounded man echoed through the hall. It was only seconds before the man died from the poison of the Thakan'dar blade entering his bloodstream and into his heart. Peaten casually walked down the hall where help would be coming from. It wasn't what he expected though. Two servants, a man and a woman came running down the hallway. They didn't see Peaten at first, dressed in all black, but when they did, it was too late. One backhanded sweep took them both across the throat, nearly beheading them. Suddenly an unnatural light appeared in the hallway not too far from him. Aes Sedai. Reluctantly, he fought the urge to kill her as well. The night's events would be neatly covered up by the Tower, as always, but a dead Aes Sedai would cause too much commotion. The hunt for the Black Ajah would strengthen, and he might expose his new ally...

...and he was once again in the World of Dreams. Finally, he felt whole. He could not help but feel the urge to kill again. Dropping his new items off in his rooms in Tar Machin Rahien could wait. He went off to find his favorite prey, wolves. He heard a name they used for him once. At least, a rough translation of it. Slayer. That was the perfect name for Peaten al'Kar, the man with three souls. He was Slayer.

*shakes his cane and pushes the other elders to the West board*

Matrim had spent the next few weeks waiting patiently. Peaten had dropped in on Alia a couple times. Each time her reports had more and more detail. It was only years of discipline that kept Peaten from growing more anxious the closer they got. He spent that time working with Matrim's body. It was infinately more frustrating than he had imagined, having the knowledge and memory of how do do something, but lacking the physical tools to do it. Matrim was in descent physical shape already, but working him even similarly to the Shar Mahdi way was harder than when Peaten, who was already in better shape, had started.

Finally, after giving Alia two weeks since his last visit, Peaten once again made his way into her room, hoping that finally this would end. He decided time was running short, and he had other duties in the Blight.

I'd say 10 is a bit small, maybe that could be the command staff. To be any sort of a real threat to the big guys, they'd need at least a few dozen to a hundred or so. Just guys to get beat up on when they fight so they don't have to keep replacing guys. Just a suggestion.

The next few days were spent waiting. He would give Alia as much time as she needed, or at least until the Great Lord called him. He had taken a sword into his room for Matrim to practice with. It was just large enough that he could practice forms, if not attack and defense patterns. He only wished he had an ashanderei for Matrim to practice with...

...Peaten had chosen the weapon as a Trainee, before he was even allowed to touch a weapon. Trainees were given a course on weapons and armor, the advantages and disadvantages of each. Peaten had chosen the ashanderei because it made use of what would be his unmatched reach as he grew into full maturity. Not only that, but it was an ancient weapon, no longer used by anyone, not even the Warders or Shar Mahdi. It made use of powerful sweeps and precise jabs. There was a sword blade at one end and a thick spike at the other. With two avenues of attack, most people would be confused, though like any weapon, attack could only come from one place at any given time. He sped through his time as a trainee, only a month, to become a true student.

Students of the Tower were finally allowed to train with weapons, though only sword, staff, and bow. Peaten would spend hours fine tuning his body, so every strike was the exact same every single time. He practiced the sword more often, but the quarterstaff, the weapon closest to the ashanderei, was what he practiced hardest. His first true test had come in the Gladius arena. Each month, the Tower held an event meant to test the mettle of it's members. Men and women of the Tower battled for position and showed off for would-be Masters, Apprentices and Assassins were pited against their Masters in order to gain the next level. In his first Gladius, as a trainee, Peaten showed his control of ayende by brutally submitting a classmate. It was the work of a berserker, the animal rage of a Trolloc pummeling a peasant. His next, however, had shown how far his control had come. With his quarterstaff, he had broken his rival, not letting him die, but not letting him pass out without submitting to him. To have killed the man so would have been a failure. He would never again be challenged in a Gladius by one of his peers.

Three months later, he graduated again to the ranks of the senior students. Here he learned survivial, languages of the world, and best of all the rest of the weapons available to him. The instructor of the senior students was none other than the Master of Combat himself, who's task it was to make sure the students were ready to become apprenticed. The Master and his own two Apperntices had taken to drubbing Peaten far harder than any of the others. He would learn later on it was because so many had told him how great he was, he needed to be humbled. And humbled he was. He worked twice as hard on perfecting his craft until even the Apprentices were hard pressed to defeat him. In three years, Peaten was head and shoulders better than any of his peers, and Master Arenos alone would serve as his sparring partner, humbling him again and again, feeding into the fire that was Peaten al'Kar. Once a year, the Gladius gained special significance. The local Trolloc camp and it's group of Myrddraal would join in the festivities. Assassins and Shar Mahdi challenged all sorts of Shadowspawn, local or captured. Captives were fed to the Trollocs. Even some of the Masters were challenged for their position. In one of these, the third since his arrival, Peaten would fight his would-be Master. It was Memnoch, the Apprentice that had found him all those years ago wandering the Blight. He was himself once Apprenticed to the Master of Combat, Master Arenos, and was his prize pupil. Memnoch was a rising star in the ranks, and was soon to become full Shar Mahdi himself. The fight was short, though. With as much raw power and emotion and promise as Peaten had, Memnoch was by far the more experienced and already a blademaster. Peaten had fought well enough, though, that he was accepted into Apprenticeship under Memnoch.

His very first mission as an Apprentice saw him back near Caemlyn, where her had grown up most of his life. While Memnoch fulfilled his mission, the erasure or a deserter, Peaten went back to his family home. His older brother was gone, apparently a Captain in the Children of the Light. His younger sister had gone off to be a novice in the White Tower. Matrim had seen her not too long ago, she was now an Accepted, it seemed. That left his older sister, dying mother, and little brother. It seemed to his sister, Lena, that after Peaten had left, the burden left for Justen had made him mad. When Peaten saw to his brother, he was lying on his stomach in a cage, eyes yellow.

"I have read about this." In the Tower of the Black Dawn. "How long has he been like this?"

"A year now. Is he mad?" His sister had tears in her eyes.

"Not mad. He says he can talk to animals? Wolves?"

"Wolves. How did you...? It wasn't always like this. Justen is still in there somewhere. He will talk like a man once in a while. It becomes more rare as time goes on. We were hoping Serina would be able to help once she is Aes Sedai,"

Peaten sneered. "He is beyond Healing. Go inside. I am going to let him out. He will be happier that way." He kneeled down and took the lock in his hands. Justen growled and shrank back, as if he could smell what his brother had become. "He might attack you. Go!" And she left, crying. With the butt of his sword, Peaten broke the chain. When the door opened, Justen pounced, teeth bared at Peaten's throat. Peaten was too fast though. Instead it was he who had Justen's throat in his massive hand. He dragged his still-struggling brother off into the woods. They stopped in a small clearing. When Justen was small, Peaten had taught him how to set traps here. Justen had always followed Peaten as an idol.

He looked down at Justen who had stopped struggling. His yellow eyes now showed recognition. "Peaten? How?" He stood and embraced his brother and begun sobbing. "I've been having horrible dreams. They won't get out of my head."

"I know little brother. I came to stop them." In an instant, Peaten grabbed Justen by his shaggy hair and spun him around. "They will haunt you know more." He pulled the dagger out of his belt and cut his younger brother's throat. Blood gushed out, away from Peaten. Wiping his dagger clean on Justen's shirt, the threw the corpse to the ground...

... Peaten hated wolves. That was the first time he had ever killed a man. His only regret that it was his own brother was that he was going to take him to the Tower to train. Those filthy mongrels had gotten to him first. For that, and for other reasons, he had begun hunting them in the World of Dreams.

"I am a patient man." He tested the bonds of Air once again. Alia seemed cool and collected, much more so than would be excpected of most Aes Sedai, given the circumstances. He nodded to himself. Maybe the Great Lord's luck was with him in finding this woman. "Until we meet again, then."...

... and he stepped back into the World of Dreams. He willed himself directly into Matrim's room...

... and stepped out as Matrim. It was hours yet until his duties in the Warder's Yard called, and he was beginning to feel tired. Living in the Dream World was tiring, being there in the flesh more so, and he had been either awake or there for days. Even Peaten needed sleep, and Matrim was still not so accustomed to surviving with so little rest. Matrim lay down on his bed and allowed himself the rare comfort of full sleep, without Tel'raran'rhoid. With real sleep came real dreams. Dreams of Matrim's past... and dream's of Peaten's...

Peaten was a shining star in the annals of the Shar Mahdi, the Blood Seekers, but his road had been far from easy. Each step had been earned, each scar a badge of honor. He had arrived in Tar Machin Rahien, the Tower of the Black Dawn, as little more than a boy. He was the youngest initiate to ever walk through the gates, much less be accepted. He was tall and slim, though years as a hunter and thug, providing for his family gave him a solid, lean build. At the age of 14, he was as tall as most men, but because of his age, he was a target to other initiates and trainees. In the wild, the weak were separated from the strong and destroyed. In the Tower, the weak were separated by their own kind and devoured. The very first day as an initiate, Peaten was taken aside by the Master of Combat himself and recieved the same speech every other had recieved on their first day for 2000 years. "I will break you. I will destroy everything you thought you knew about everything, because you are wrong. When you are broken, I will reasemble you into a tool of the Great Lord of the Dark. Attack me, kill me if you can." Peaten refused. The man was unarmed, and Peaten had a spear. Pride was his folly. If he did not attack, he would have been killed on the spot. The man was ruthless. It was the worst beating Peaten had ever taken, including when he was killed. He ended up with a broken nose and two cracked ribs. His entire body was a bruised mass. He knew it could have been worse, but the Master wanted him just well enough that he could still fully train.

The uniform of an initiate was the purest of white linens. It signified the blank canvass on which the initiate would be molded. He was allowed to heal the rest of the day, and contemplate what was to come. More than a few had commited suicide their first night in the Tower. In fact, a great number of deaths in the Tower came from initiate and trainee suicides. The pain that came with that night was unforgettable. The room he was given was more like an underground cell without a pallet to sleep on, which was just as well since it was only six feet by six feet, and Peaten had to lay diagonally anyways. There were no windows and no door, only a doorway that opened up into a dimly lit hallway. Initiates lived like animals. The Tower cooks made a certain amount of food each day, and initiates being the lowest ranking ate the last scraps of meals, if there were any at all. And when there were, there was a pecking order of initiates on who got the first of those scraps. They awakened before anyone else so they could do their morning run before heading to the kitchens to prepare the food for the others, then clean up when they were done. Then they did their chores around the Tower. They did the same routine four times a day, with little to no rest. His injuries made the first few days pure torture. He was last to finish his first few runs, making qucik enemies of his fellow initiates, who had to rest in a half push-up position until he finished. On the last mile of the 2nd day, Peaten collapsed. He seriously considered laying there until they finally put him out of his misery. He saw the Seeker in charge of the initiates shake his head and unsheath his sword. Unexplainably, though, he stood up and finished the run. That night, the others attacked him ruthlessly. The senior initiate, the one at the top of the pecking order at least, turned his face int owhat looked like ground beef. But Peaten gave one strong punch, which made the man's face swell around his left eye. That began his march from the bottom of the initiates to the top. It took five days for him to not be the last runner, and with the addition of a new initiate, Peaten was not at the bottom anymore. The former top initiate fell quickly out of the graces of the others, and after only a few days jumped off the top of the Tower, which the newest initiate had the grim task of cleaning up. That very night he realized how unimportant he really was. The Tower was unforgiving of weakness, and even the top initiate was less than nothing. He was finally, truely broken. It was shortly after he realized this that his Cadre noticed and went into his room as he slept. He asked a simple question. "What are you?" Peaten answered the right answer. "A tool."

The life of a trainee was more difficult in many ways, but infinately more rewarding. The rags he was given were gray, signifying a deeper grade into the Shadow. Trainees added an extra mile to their run, but also added classes that helped them physically and mentally. They were given strength and balance training, as well as lessons in the history of the Shadow and Arms & Armor. Most importantly, they were given lessons in meditation. What the Shar Mahdi used was much like the Void, only it's opposite. Instead of clearing the mind of fear and anger and hate, the ball of emotion was fed by it. Once you had all these emotions in check, you could tap into it, releasing all of those emotions into a focused attack. This was called ayende, "freedom" in the Old Tongue. A Master could call on this at will, but for the trainees, it took much meditation. Where some never reached it, Peaten, with his anger at the world, reached it his first time... though afterwards it was still extremely hard to come by. Though he started at the bottom of the trainee pecking order, it would not be long until he rose up to the top. In the beginning, they attacked him because they thought he was weak, soon they would attack him for fear of what he could become...

... Matrim woke up with the sun shining in his face and shivered. He had wanted to become a Gray Man, to have his soul one with the Shadow, but remembering what Peaten had done to do so was frightening. He shook his head to clear it out. Matrim's thoughts and feelings still clouded the Peaten-dominated mind once in a while. Instead of getting better, it seemed to be getting worse. The only way, he thought, to make it better if it wouldn't go away was to begin training the body and mind of Matrim in the way that Peaten's had once been. Crossing his legs on his bed, Matrim began feeding that fear into a little ball.

Peaten nodded in agreement with the terms he had fully expected. "Fair enough. It will be a personal favor among equals." He smiled, trying to seem as friendly as possible. He knew Aes Sedai hated being called equal to anyone, despite that their name meant 'servant'. No need to push himself too much on one who could help him though. As well as he could be a powerful ally, so could she be. "It is a unique item, which you would know if you had seen or heard of it coming to the White Tower, though I'm sure they kept it's presence on a need-to-know basis. It is a weapon forged in the Valley of Thakan'dar. Not a sword like Trollocs and Halfmen use. It is in the form of an ashanderei, an ancient weapon used mostly during the Trolloc Wars. This one was made for me personally many years back. I lost it several years ago, when I was killed by a Warder who was near the very top of Demandred's hit list." He saw the raised eyebrow as she prepared her tea. "I am no ghost or undead. The flesh you see is as real as your own. Anyways, I was spared through the World of Dreams, but was stuck there until recently when the Great Lord offered me the body of young Matrim, the servant you met yesterday." He was reluctant to give this information, but the Aes Sedai would figure it out quickly anyways if she was more than a half-wit. "He is me and I am he, I can switch through the World of Dreams. I am sure my weapon is here in the Tower, though I do not know where. To search every room in the Tower as I did to find you would take far too long. And Aes Sedai have access to places simple servants do not. I can tell you it is not in any armory used by Warders or Tower Guards, nor the first two levels underneath the Tower itself. Perhaps it is under the study of a Brown, or the Amyrlin herself, or tossed aside like every other bloody useful object here." He shook his head. With all the wealth of knowledge in the White Tower, they used only a fraction. Had the Tower of the Black Dawn had access to all of this information, the Shadow would have been victorious long before the Chosen were free. Then again, for many hundreds of years before Peaten had become Master of the Order, they had been plagued by weak leadership as well... wasteful and arrogant. The Dreadlords fared little better in those years. "If you could even tell me where it definately is not, or where even you do not have access to, it would narrow down my search tremendously. I could search where you do not have access, while you search where you do." He thought a little. "It would do no good for you to be seen talking with Matrim overly much as well. When both he and the weapon are gone, they will suspect anyone he has spent any time with as conspirator. I will see to it that those who displease me most get most of his attention." He smiled again. "With your permission, I will contact you here in your rooms where we can have the most privacy. If you have any visitors you can leave a sign for me that it is not safe to enter."

Congrats Quibs

Alia. Finally a name he recognized from the list! Matrim returned to his room to think on how to confront her. She was no ordinary Friend of the Dark to be bullied or commanded. He had to do this carefully. He hated to admit it, but even Peaten could be defeated by the One Power if he wasn't careful. He decided he would go into her rooms, but first to see where those were. When his afternoon duties in the Warder's Yard were finished, he set out to look for Alia once more. He found her on her way into the Blue Ajah quarters. It was a start at least, but Matrim could not enter the Ajah quarters without being invited. At least... he couldn't just walk in. Looking to see if anyone was around, he walked into one of the larger shadows...

... and stepped into the World of Dreams. It felt good after so long. He was Peaten now, and Tel'aran'rhoid was where Peaten felt most comfortable. Here he was close to invincible. Only the Chosen knew this place as well as he, but none of them had lived here like he had. He waited until it was near midnight in the waking world...

And stepped out again into the hallways of the Blue Ajah quarters. He had no idea which room she was in, or if she had a Warder, or if the Warder was there, so the safest way to check each room was through the World of Dreams. He entered in front of each of the doors and exited where even if there had been anyone awake, shadows would hide him. He did this until finally he saw her. Now the tricky part. To wake and startle an Aes Sedai was a fool's errand. Peaten was no fool. He would not be able to enter her dreams, Aes Sedai were protected from that sort of intrusion. Finally he decided to wait until she woke up on her own. He spent the time thinking on how to convince her to help.

When dawn finally came, he braced himself for what he knew was coming. She woke up to find Peaten sitting in one of her chairs. Immediately, he felt himself trapped by Air. It was impossible to hold him like that, but she didn't know that. He had to have her believe he meant no harm. "How did you...?

"Our Master would not apprectiate if you killed me Aes Sedai. It seems I am a favorite of the Nae'blis." Her eyes widened. "Yes, I know who you are. It should only be fair to introduce myself, then. My name is Peaten al'Kar, Master of the Shar Mahdi Order." It seemed she recognized the Shar Mahdi, at least, as apparently many Aes Sedai did. "You may have also heard of the Man with Two Souls."

"Why are you here?"

"I have a proposition for you. The White Tower has something of mine that I would very much like to have back. In exchange for your help in finding this item for me, I offer access to my services, including one freebie. I am... quite a competant assassin. As you have seen, I can enter where others cannot, with the ease of strolling in a park, and my skill with weapons compare quite favorably with the very best Warders. You could do much worse with me as your ally. I am, of course in the service of the Nae'blis first and foremost, but I can work for others as long as it doesn't interfere with the Master Plan. What say you? If not I would ask only to point out others to help me, I have a list of names of those who also serve."

Thaddeus al'Dobnan. Freeboter. Minor noble

"Crossbows?!" Thad repeated. "Blood and ashes! We're just runaways! Onley get us outta here!"

"Blood and ashes!" Onley yelled. "Blood and bloody ashes!" He urged the horses carrying their cart as fast as they could go. "We aren't going to outrun men on horseback."

"We won't have to." Trev had that look in his eye, and he air harped. He dug into his bags and pulled out some fireworks. "Party on, Thad!"

Thad grinned. He truely had a partner in crime. "Party on, Trev!"

He lit one of the fuses and pointed it at one of the white cloaked riders behind him. It exploded in front of him, causing the horse to rear up and throw off the rider. Onley looked backed, clearly frightened, "What in the..."

"Fireworks, Dan." Thad laughed. "Just keep going."

The search for the Black Ajah had become tedious. Matrim had begun his quest by asking all Aes Sedai he had come across about the Trolloc Wars. His reasoning was that only a Friend of the Dark would know certain information, but a suprising amount knew the information he requested. This frustrated him greatly. Through Peaten's memory, he knew that not only Friends of the Dark had used the Shar Mahdi as hired assassins. After the Trolloc Wars, especially during the time of Hawkwing, the Shar Mahdi had been swords hired by both Darkfriend and Lightfool alike. Since there was no official war of Light versus Shadow, Demandred had encouraged such transactions as practice. The more jobs a Shar Mahdi had aquired, the more experience the Order as a whole gained of the outside world. Peaten himself had taken jobs by all who could pay until the Chosen were freed. The Shar Mahdi were known by those who had connections, but none but other Friends of the Dark knew they served the Shadow. If others knew, they looked the other way because of the quality of work.

It had taken many weeks, but finally Matrim found a woman who might have the answers he needed. "Thank you for your knowledge Aes Sedai. May I please ask your name, in case I have more questions? I am afraid my thirst for knowledge is near unquenchable, as my former Master once told me."

no problem. I've been caught up in RL lately, plus re-reading when I have the time since its been so long since I've RPed