"Burn me! Burn me!" Saline muttered, but half consciously, as though scarcely able to realise what had happened. The last statement sounded strange in her ears. Here was something new: Saline came back and Rory was not waiting where she should be.

The fact was that up to the last moment she never expected such an ending; she had been evading to the last degree, never dreaming that three such involved and overbearing women could break from the Tower's control. This conviction was strengthened by her selfishness and conceit. She had expected to be reconciled with them. That all would be as before.

"She has got to be here," she said in a half-whisper to herself, almost shuddering. Maegan's austere eyes looked almost with exasperation at the newcomer, although she must have noticed this disproportionate terror. It was no question whom she referred to. Surely Maegan realised why Saline could not bring herself to believe otherwise.

With a sick feeling Saline could not help recalling Lillian too, but soon she reassured herself on that score; as though a Sister like the White could be bothered, could be concerned with one such as her! The woman she dreaded in earnest was the person who she dreamt of, Rory . . . She had, in short, a great deal to see to . . . 

"You don't know? . . . " she whispered softly and as it were breathlessly. Saline forced herself to talk normally, but at the third word her voice broke like an overstrained string. There was a catch in her breath.

She stopped and looked up quickly at Maegan, and controlling herself went on speaking. Drawing a painful breath, Saline told the other distinctly and forcibly as though she were making a public confession of love. "But they haven't heard what I have to say. Rory," she started off like a warhorse at the trumpets' call, "she means everything. I go where she is. Here . . . having so to speak anxieties of my own. We might begin the search to-day. Maegan Sedai am I right? Will you help?"

Sounds good to me. Saline's cooking has become a source of pride to herso her bags will reflect this. If something you've put in tampers with her cooking spices or pans she would turn nuts.

Who wants to start? ;D

Hmm mice in beds can be an issue since WT has wards regarding vermin such as rats and I'm not sure sure if mice can get in . . . but there is always the illusion of mice in bed you can weave (as an Accepted I once did rats in a Red's room and she freaked), would probably need to get that approved IIRC.

The others are simpler such as ice, chickens, itchweed although I am intrigued what you'd do with snakes. Also think of a reason you'd find Saline (my AS, a red)'s weaknesses and breaking pts. Maybe I've assigned you a chore to carry my bags whereas you don't have time for your assignments or other backstory. Or maybe I dunno, my sister's just (un)lucky! Looking forward to more ideas, this is coming along great! :D

I love pranks. What are you thinking about? :)

Soo . . . it's just come to my attention that some RPers I was planning to RP with are going to be absent for a little while. Which means, I'm a tad bored now. This means, I'm free to start new RPs! ;D

Um. Any requirements you may still have to RP out. If I could help I will definitely try. Please post what your character needs: lessons, chores, advice and we can have a little chat. Hoping to see some responses.

RL happens. Have fun, you two!  :D

Updated. And post's up.

When at eleven o' clock punctually Saline went to the Gate after having sent her regards to Maegan Sedai for uses of her Eyes and Ears in the borderlands (a rougish informant named Beatrice), she was surprised at being kept waiting so long, it was at least a half hour before they got everything ready and mounted their horses. In that time she had gotten vaguely acquainted with D'Ashan, a trainee who clutched tremendously at his weapon as though confused about his role in this endeavor and Perivar, a blademaster whose heart and service was already bonded to a Green Sister, and sometimes she fancied he looked inward for guidance.

She's alive. I believe it. This conjecture had begun to grow strong the day before, in the midst of all her alarm and desperation. Thinking it all over now and preparing for a fresh conflict, she was suddenly conscious that she was trembling with fear at facing Rory Sedai; trembling . . . as though standing before her judge and the arbiter of her destinies. I have sinned: destroyed and betrayed her for nothing. The way before Rory, what if she was sinking into some depravity which obscured her mind and turned her heart into stone? What if rather than be sullied she decided it would be a thousand times better to leap into the water and end it all? If she does that, what will happen to me . . . I have chosen her

The candle-end was flickering out in the battered candlestick, dimly lighting up in the clearing the Red and her party who had so strangely been riding together. Five hours or more passed. Thera who had been scouting ahead, was riding back toward them. Another had been keeping watch, and covering their trail from possible pursuers.

"I came to speak of something," Saline said aloud, frowning. She shoved off from the saddle and went to Thera. Thera lifted her eyes to the Aes Sedai in silence. Her face was particularly stern as Saline handed her map over, and both women studied the areas Saline noted intently "Thera, I will not be coming further than the outskirts of Fal Dara until these areas have been scouted out. There is a camp of my sisters nearby I will be re-joining until you get back to us."

On a drier day the following week, looking bronzed and fit, she accompanied Thera and co. to the borders. At six p.m. just in time for dinner the small party alighted at Fal Dara. And at eight-thirty or thereabouts they parted with mutual expressions of esteem and slight relief--they to carry on and cool their heels in the blight, where they were expecting to gather intelligence and report back to Fal Dara; Saline to go to her camp, drop her luggage, clean up a bit and put on some tea preparation to pushing around her other sisters in pitching in with the search effort.

All is welcome. I'll see to serving tea!

Good tasteful name, that's what it is. It earns my approval!  ;D

I loved the books. First RP char was Amber (from Liveship Traders wheee) xD

Even though I cried for your namesake in the Tawny Man series later :/

Nighteyes? A fan of Robin Hobb? *intrigued*

Rasheta and Lor if you're interested in runs to the blight, I'm starting a series of RPs (retro, 4 phases) that would require Sisters from different ajahs, on a search party. Feel free to join in. :)

"Like it? My own recipe, very good for you" try as she might, and she had tried mind, just not very hard, she could not resist indulging in a bit of boasting as the two dug into the pie. The tea was still hot but she did not mind a pinch of pick me up after having gone without . . . it was one of the reasons she returned to the wilderness to retrieve some tea and hard to come by ingredients that would spice up even the most basic of cooking. "I could teach you if you like." She taught basic cooking as a class a long time ago. In the Tower at the blues kitchen for the poor she had done and later assigned chores where they had to chop firewood, freshen the reeds, wring the necks of chickens, cut carrots, stir soup etc. However this would be done the traditional way by hand and, being somewhat old-fashioned she found this method of cooking more charming, if slower.

Darn. What little she had know of daggers probably did come from watching gleemen when she was a child. Saline made a note to separate practicality from notions of grandeur and flashiness as she corrected her grip. The daggers class was good for her health, not only was Visar's lesson teaching her how to grab at daggers with relative caution, but it also taught her humbleness too much of which never hurts anybody. Davel and her had taken turns dropping their daggers and were practicing unarmed covers when Visar came around once more and introduced a new drill for them.

It probably depended on a loose definition of seriously harmed but Saline gave almost as good as she got and some time passed when they were shunting the same wooden dagger between them with more speed and accuracy as their covers and attacks improved.

Then Visar called Davel over for another demonstration. When Davel attacked the guard not only got the dagger but also pulled Davel's arm straight so it'd be easier to, in his words, break the elbow. Though she understood the need to remove the threat by breaking the weapons arm it was still a tad disconcerting to think of body parts in that way and Saline for one was quite glad to do less repetitions of this particular technique. Our Tower Guards, she thought, were really something else huh?

Still she listened intently to the three options as Visar described them, seeing how she would take no warders doing these things herself was the only way for her to proceed. She was rather pleased all in all with her own progress and all that Visar had shown them in terms of basics for daggers.

"Would anyone like to grab a bite with me?" offered Saline, wanting to continue learning about daggers. "I know just the place!" She knew normally trainees weren't permitted to leave the courtyard without permission from Aes Sedai or their Mentor except on free days so hopefully Belig and Davel would also take the opportunity to enjoy the city for the rest of the afternoon.

Cool, spectating!

Sorry about dawdling on the training thread btw. Had to move around and got caught up temporarily with RL events :)

"What do you mean no visitors?" cried Tris as she squirmed free of her escort's hold and eased nearer under the bemused nebs of the red guards. It took her a while to find this place, although the office was clearly not where she planned to end up; she took even longer to creep like a cat past the clerk by the staircase until he announced that the little rascal they had been warned about had arrived. "I'm his only granddaughter, you know."

"We know the prisoner hasn't got any" the taller guard answered calmly "candy?"

"Oh yes please" she said while watching the sweets jar greedily. He shook some out on his palm and said, "as for the prisoner you'll see him in the morning at the commons, you have my word."

Feeling more at ease with a lolly in her hand she turned as though in leaving, then added "He's been injured-"

"And the medics are taking care of that. He'll be in isolation for the night, but fed and treated fairly, mind." Dismissed the tall guard while the other man watched and listened intently. But the tall one was the speaker "It's late and I've work to do. Somebody will come and take you back shortly."

She tossed and turned all night and woke from a broken dream that left her more drained than replenished. Still sleepy she heard the bell and rose, running to the heart of the citidel, the general commons where the tall guard said Gramps would be.

Oh goody. She was the only trainee in the private's charge, meaning they didn't have to wait for other latecomers to start learning those basic things she had so been looking forward to. Guess it would be nice to stay in bed rather than learning but hey, look at all those fighters training! Some were more skilled than others but at least they all had weapons. Apparently she couldn't touch one without injuring herself and, judging by what had gone down in the tavern she did not blame him. Private Anon, which was what he'd be called by the way since she still didn't know his real name, was leading them to a structure he had called the sparring ring, but in the meantime they were to practice marching. Tris found marching to be very confusing and tedious, since her left foot had to start everything, and she never worried about which foot going where in her daily activities. Turning was especially challenging and it was not long before she had ran out of patience and was more than ready to throw in the towel on this whole marching business when Private Anon turned his head her way and beckoned her to march into the spar circle. She would have been more impressed had she not been so fatigued. By this time she had been sweating so hard she could have watered a garden of flowers.

The next activity proved more fun than marching, although she had to try thrice before taking a wild charge at the Private and, rather than giving him a forceful push her entire body propelled into his, the momentum of which knocked him off his feet.

"Aw, crap" cried Tris, "sorry Private!"

Though appreciative for its promptness Saline fancied that there be the touch of mild contempt in the Mistress of Trainee's reply, and some might say the Aes Sedai had overstepped the bounds in making such a dire request, but strange to say she suddenly felt completely indifferent to anybody's opinion, and this decision took place in a flash, in one instant. Had she cared to think more, she would have been amazed indeed that she could have penned such a missive to the Gaidar like that, practically forcing her mission on the woman. Where had that particular brand of boldness came from? There were many resources to exploit in the Tower and the Warders simply happened to be one of many. It was, however, imperative for Rory to be found as soon as possible even though she skipped all the niceties. She was fine with the company Thera had chosen, figuring it should be people the Gaidar was most comfortable bringing. Time was of the essence, and although some precautions were taken she had no liking for internal disputes.

Thera had agreed to arrange supplies and more importantly, scout along the blight in exchange Saline would be offering her protection as per her oaths. These areas on Saline's map had been somewhat unknown and was to be treated as dangerous until the team led by Thera proved otherwise in their surveys.

A day later, the insufferable mugginess and its impression of rain completed the picture of perfect misery as she strolled along to the small gathering at the Gate.

On an exceptionally hot midsummer morning a woman emerged from the broken stone and the plaster, scaffolding, bricks, and dust all about her. She walked slowly, as though in hesitation, toward the docks. In spite of all the neat fastidiousness of her dress she minded the rubble least of all in the streets and alleys at the heart of Illian. It made her very uneasy to rejoin the crowd. Her face was veiled, first of all but it failed to excite any interest beyond general mistrust and positive hostility at all these foreigners in the city. Owing to the proximity of the council, the number of establishments of poor character, the preponderance of the trading class population crowded into the market, types so various were seen in those quarters that no figure, however odd, would have caused surprise. Besides, the stench from the perfumed quarters were so familiar to all who were unable to escape in the summer, many covered their noses with a damp cloth while passing through.

Still, she had to remove her veil in order to charter a ship and, browbeaten by her firm insistance to stay put, the captain was eager to set sail. He would leave navigation matters to his mate, but he could be found wounding about the ship's figurehead; somedays he climbed the riggings, his jaunty, tarred boots with red turn-over tops dipping into full view before his person as he swung down the ropes. With a vigilant watch, they were making good speed and would be inside Tar Valon in three weeks tops. Although it was within her ability to make the passage more swift, her help was neither offered nor sought.

Rather than bring wind to their sails, she baked as the crew worked, making scones for their tea. At the counter stood a boy of about fourteen and a somewhat younger girl who handed whatever was wanted. She wore a set of prized spices procurred through travels. Over the years she continued to cook since it provided her with a livelihood; also because it was theuropeutic, mastering the pots and pans reminded her of happier times. A particular perk in her chosen profession upon which she did not remark to her employers. Those she worked for were simply disinterested, showing a shade of condescending contempt for her as a person of station and culture inferior to theirs, with whom it might well be useless for them to converse.

As it were, cooking occupied very little of her time onboard. In the past few days she had been toying with the idea of a work on geography of the areas they were surveying; perhaps even a paper on the usefulness of Earth weaves. But not seriously: she knew too much of herself to subject anybody to that. All her sallies at writing posts had bogged down in tedium. The truth was—she was tired, more out of place than ever. So were others of her acquaintances from the old days, burdened with upbringings inappropriate to the tasks they were set to perform; clerics in a post-faith age.

Upon the ship nearing the pier she became super aware of her fears. Years apart, and the memories never faded. It was such a burden to carry the vestiges of dead dreams, but she could not stop wondering if Rory still thought of her . . . or was there somebody else between them?

Thoughts of old acquaintances worked painfully on her nerves. Even so, she had fulfilled her obligations to her Ajah, and the Tower. Month after month she sat, gathered, read, and annotated the assignments from her Eyes and Ears, correcting lapses in logic, interrogating weak arguments, and appending to each report a brief, considered critique. She did not bother sending any of her official work in. Despite the heat she wore a full coat, as she did not want to meet with any Aes Sedai.

So it followed, a few minutes after dropping anchor in port, Maegan Sedai found her. Saline turned and tried to walk away, but it was too late. For a person with impaired eyesight, Maegan was surprisingly adept at sniffing her out and too soon began demanding where on the light-forsaken world she'd been.

"South," she answered vaguely, as though hesitating what she would say. But there was a look of sharp determination on her pale, ageless face. "I have come for my friends . . . to make amends . . . I meant to say, former friends."

RP plan has been approved. I am not able to take N/A along; however AS are welcome to join.

First post up soon (moving to-morrow so unlikely 'til monday)!

When the initial minutes of incomprehension passed, Tris Landorin of the Marna Stretch enterprises' face lit up in pleasure.  "Hi, Sir! Wow what a surprise, I was hoping to see you again. Standing at attention, right." She put her hand up in a salute and stood as straight as she could, still in a fine fettle. Although the path to the house was wrapped in the morning mist yet by the feel of the air it promised to be a sunny day. She was checking out the surrounding while tryng to keep her expression straight and somewhat failing "Yes I do have questions, Sir. Where are the other soldiers? Am I the only one learning basics? When do I start learning how to fight? And can I call you anything besides Sir? Remember me?" She waved her hands, then placed them behind her back and stood straight again.

Yep, his potbelly was visible although it seemed to have diminished quite a bit. Guess he was getting in shape, after all. She didn't really mind the yelling though. It was part of what she imagined soldiering would be, a lot of yelling. His voice was deeper so it didn't sound too shrill or annoying. Nothing aggravated her more than people whistling while she was trying to sleep in the early mornings. What was wrong with them anyway?

Saidar was nearby. How come it was so close? Surely her sisters were not linking in preparation of a nice stroll in the Red gardens? Hopefully not. Straightening from her perch at the window she let her portfolio snap, and tucked away the sharpened charcoal with which she had been shading with as she hurried toward the pull of the Source.

She strode faster, keen to find out what was happening. As she rounded the corner Saline came to a sudden stop. "Fortune prick me . . ." she whispered, feeling Saidar rush in.

Ooc: Edited

Ooooh, I happily jump at a chance to RP with you again Crystal!

Saline went quiet. Wait, what was she looking at?

A frown had crept across the instructor's face as they watched Davel fall down and didn't get up again. Guess this isn't Belig's day. From behind the calmness of her well-spring, Saline studied the boy who steadied his partner into standing and was rather apologetically offering his herbs for healing. Still a tad shakily Davel stood there as Visar demonstrated their next steps, and she had to wonder if Davel got any part of the lesson at all. She would have been dazed after being knocked down; however, Aes Sedai training required ignoring the pain and focusing on the gain. From what Visar was saying about being cut was worth it if one could acquire the dagger she had the suspicion that weapons training was very much in this vein. Personally she was a wimp when it comes to pain and under no circumstance could she envision grabbing at a live blade, although the call of self-preservation was quite strong to her since she would never bond anybody who had dedicated his/her life to protecting the sisters. She did not want to be such a wimp that she would be afraid to walk down the streets without knowing how to use a hidden dagger. If an attacker had managed to get her defence weapon away it would be even more trouble than having forgotten the dagger in her rooms. Like Belig and Davel she was there to learn and as Visar said, pain could be a very good mistress.

Picking up a wooden dagger she twirled it and aimed at Davel's kneecap rather sympathetically but was pleasantly surprised to learn he had retained much of what Visar taught them as he delivered the technique with more than adequate mastery.

She was still holding Melenis' heirloom of a weapon, noting it was much heavier than her scimitar, when the girl vaulted into action. The fighter kicked back their intruder, who (after Saline's initial alarm) turned out to be Corwin. Laughing for the first time in weeks at the rather unconventional mentor-mentee reunion, Saline set the weapon on the bedpiles gingerly and turned around to prepare a temporary meal. Humming as she took over proportioning the tea and pie into slightly cracked cups and dishes, Saline was in a better mood than she had been before. And so was Corwin by the look of things, if not entirely happy he seemed pleased with Melenis' progress and she was glad for the girl's company as she mutely handed them their respective shares. The bout had not taken long but what little she had watched of it was very intense.