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Post by Crystal on Nov 24, 2004 2:12:56 GMT -5
Burn you Leun! Ariena screamed mentally as the molten rock dripped from her shield and she heard his voice demanding surrender. Kill her! She cannot be trusted! Kill her!
The breath she drew to call to him left her as a shield of Spirit slammed down around her. Pertrova was too strong... she must be using the angreal, too.
The two Warders collapsed, dead, as Ariena watched, slamming herself futilely against the shield. Pertrova walked over to Gendowin, collapsed on the ground from the breaking of the double bond of her Warders.
Light, but she's bonding her!
That was impossible! A woman Warder? A woman Warder bonded by a Red?
It was unheard of!
But then, something whispered, so was a double bonding of two channelers.
She could still feel her Warder link with Leun. Ariena stumbled over to him, trying not to hear the words Pertrova was speaking.
There was something hard where Petrova had tied the shield. A knot.
Almost sobbing in fright, Ariena began to try something she had almost never done before. Untying the knot was very much like Unweaving, something which she had been beaten for doing and told never to try again. Since then she practiced in secret, once nearly setting her room on fire.
She whimpered as the knot seemed to fumble in and out of her ability to undo it.
The knot came loose.
Saidar filled her once again and she slammed a shield between Pertrova and the True Source, channeling through the angreal.
Light, let me be strong enough.
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Post by TK on Nov 24, 2004 16:19:05 GMT -5
Leun wished that he had the ability of seeing flows of saidar, or at least seeing distinction of those who had embraced it. All he had was the hair on the back of his neck and how it tingled, differing in strength. The way the source was slipping to and from the four of them, he could hardly tell what was happening amongst the others, though the look of triumph on Ariena and the look of shock on Pertrova said one thing: the Red woman had been shielded.
"Gendowin!" the Red shrieked, clearly addressing the Green. Something had happened between the two of them, something that strongly reminded him of what he had once done - though certainly not something that one of the Red Ajah would do. It couldn't have been that. "Use every bit of prowess you have to undo the ties that I have placed! Shield the girl! Shield her! I so compel!"
It was surprising how quickly the Green Aes Sedai - Gendowin? - responded. She thrust herself to her feet and, as only Leun could suppose, cast a shield of Spirit over Ariena. If Pertrova even knew Compulsion as a Talent, how could she control if she herself had been shielded by Ariena? The only other way to control himself, as he had learned many years ago, was through a Warder bond, though that was seldom used. He himself had only bonded Ariena because he feared she would use that to compel him against his will. But... Pertrova could not possibly have bonded Gendowin! Never a Red! Never another woman!
The shield clearly blocked Ariena from the True Source, for the amount of people holding the One Power dropped by one, and then increased again as Pertrova clearly embraced. Light, but this was so very confusing!
"Now," Pertrova said, "after you tie off that weave, we will flee." She was talking to Gendoin who nodded in agreement. "We can make a clean escape by the time she manages to untie the weaves and instructs the boy to do the same. We'll capture the pair and the other boy, the one with the wolves, some other time, once we've rallied other sisters to still him or at least hold down his shield. First, though... we'll need to track him down, and for that, you'll have to bond him, just like I did to you."
Leun's eyes widened, and the Green didn't seem to so much as pause at this, despite the fact her two Warders had just fallen down dead. She did bond her! The bloody Light, burn them! Burn them now!
Gendowin stalked up to him as he felt around for his dagger, his sword, his anything, soon realizing that he was still clad in the plain garments in which he had awoken in the palace. The Green thrust her hand to his neck, tightening her grip.
Leun hung suspended in a blazing inferno, a fiery inferno surrounding him, before being thrust back into reality.
"Let's go," Pertrova said, turning towards the trees with Gendowin following in her wake.
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Post by Crystal on Nov 25, 2004 0:13:38 GMT -5
"NO!" Ariena howled. "Burn you, he's MY Warder! MINE! Let him go, you Light-burned, goat-kissing daughter of a dog!"
She felt the bonding - a shadow of it - through her own bond with Leun. Howling in fury, she didn't even think of hurling herself against the shield. She wanted blood, blood and lots of it. She didn't even hear the ring of steel as she pulled Leun's ornate dagger from it's sheath. The aura of saidar about Gendowin flickered and went out.
"Let's go," Pertrova said, turning toward the trees. Gendowin followed like a puppy, her back turned to Ariena, only a few feet away.
Her father had been a hunter. Always strike for the neck when bringing down animals.
In blind fury, Ariena hurled herself at the startled Green, before the woman could grasp saidar once more.
The dagger rose and flashed in the light before it sank into the back of the Aes Sedai's neck, where the skull joined the spine, resulting in a sickening crack.
The woman collapsed limply as Ariena suddenly found herself bound tightly and suspended in midair by flows of Air. She struggled, hurling herself against the threads and the invisible shield stopping her from wielding the One Power.
The dagger was wrenched from her bloodied hand and sank itself deep into a tree - the shortsword was ripped from her back and sent skittering across the clearing.
"Leun," she gasped, "The knot... the shield is knotted... pick it out..." The grip tightened about her neck and she struggled to breathe.
Pertrova snarled.
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Post by TK on Nov 27, 2004 9:36:43 GMT -5
Leun fumbled against the nots, making as much haste as a bull in a heat would ever had. The knots were thick, and he could not get them undone... Light, but he had to!
***
NO! Pertrova shrieked in thought, watching as Gendowin collapsed. She would not let her most powerful baragaining piece go to a loss!
Drawing power from the pendant angreal, Pertrova filled herself to her peak with the One Power, past her peak, past the strength for what the angreal was designed. Any moment she could burn herself out, kill herself, though she continued to draw until her body blazed with pain.
Threads of Spirit, Water and Air, hundreds of them, arose in suspension, drifting idly. She bound them, coiling with each whit of skill of the Talent of Healing she could muster. She directed the weaves at Gendowin, and bone began to melt together, skin gliding gently into one seamless sheet. By the Light, the woman would live!
Pertrova let go some of the One Power until the agony was no more, and at last she helf but a safe amount. Raising the girl on a blanket of Air, she discarded her weapons. With a vicious snarl, she began wrapping Air around her neck, tightening... choking...
***
Sucess!
The tie crumbled away to naught and the shield of Spirit vanished into supreme nothingness as Leun drew in sweet, glorious saidin, save the sickening taint that made him wish to throw up. Light, he was lucky to be sane after so long, though it would not last. A worry for another time!
Enhanced with Ariena's angreal, Leun began fighting back with Air, pulling against the threads that binded Ariena's throat. Light, but he was weaker than the Red!
Leun dashed over to the tree, wrenching out the dagger. Voice raised into an echoing shout, he ran towards Pertrova, weapons raised. The dagger slipped free on a thread of Air, a diverted thread, weakening whatever binds were inflicting upon Ariena. He chipped away with Air, breaking the chords that were choking her. She would be okay.
***
Burn him!
Gendowin was down and would not be rising soon, which left one alternative. If she could not kill nor still them on the spot...
Two bludgeons of Air arose at her will, and she sent them crashing forward to the pair's skulls. Consciousness left them that quickly.
Picking up her fainted Warder - Light, but it was degrading, though there was no other choice! - Pertrova stalked off into the darkened forest.
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Post by irishdragonlord on Nov 28, 2004 17:56:46 GMT -5
The wolves were there again. Brother is slow, mused a voice, on he did not recognize and one that did not introduce itself. Brother wish for Greenleaf's pack to attack the Aes Sedai? Braendar was quickly learning to shorten wolves'... phrases... to describe things he could say in a single word. Wait - Aes Sedai?! he thought back. Small Bear made his choice in an instant. Greenleaf's pack attack, now. Small Bear and the hard-footed four legs with the metal-covered two-legs will be their in a moment.Kicking his horse in the sides - Small Bear was wondering whether he should be riding this - he hurtled forward. The guards behind him rushed forward. "What is wrong with you, boy?!" shouted one. Small Bear did not care. Hamstring and throat, he thought. Hamstring and throat. *** Petrova felt for the pulse of he "Warder". She should think of another name; the thought of considering Gendowin a "Warder" made her want to sick up. Gendowin was not quite gone yet, but no guarantees on her life. Petrova snorted. About to weave some Healing into the pitiful woman - not that she could Heal well at all, but better than nothing - something descended on her from behind. She was aware of fur, a snarl, and suddenly there was fire on her face; she was aware of more bodies and then blackness. *** Small Bear reined in tightly. Their work done, Greenleaf and her pack were gone now; Small Bear made it clear they needed to be gone before the other two-legs arrived. A pity he had not been the one to have the honor of the kill. That one final thought set Braendar rocketing back into his mind. An AES SEDAI! LIGHT! What had happened?! Braendar jumped of his horse and was almost trampled by one of the guards catching up. He only half-heard the reprimand; his immediate attentions were Leun and Ariena. "Pick them up! Quickly!" he ordered. What was going on? Had he just ordered someone? They were alive, thank the light, and though they were clearly hurt they would not die of the injuries. He prayed. He may well be overreacting, but nonetheless... Two dead Warders lay face down in the dirt; he recognized them for what they were by the cloaks. Another woman - Light! Aes Sedai! - lay in the dirt as well. Rolling her over, he couldn't tell whether she was alive or dead. He felt for a pulse. A few seconds later he felt... something. He thought. Quickly he looked at the Aes Sedai the wolves had dealt with. She had a nasty gash on her face and was unconscious; it seemed the wolves couldn't bring themselves to kill her. That gash wasn't pretty, but she would live, he noted coldly, and turned back to the guards. Ariena and Leun needed to get back to the palace, and immediately, as well as these Aes Sedai. Fortunately a guard came by without his needing to ask, and - gently, since he must know who she was with all the obvious destruction and Warders - placed her on his horse. A second guard all the more cautiously lifted the one with the gash. She almost looked familiar; but that gash had destroyed any hope of his recognizing her. ((Do you mind if her face is messed up?  I mean, the wolves had to do something...^-^;;  ) Braendar climbed into his saddle and began to ride back towards the palace. Rodrein only spared him a quizzical glance before catching up - in fact, pushing ahead - and very pointedly didn't look at him. He heard mutters of "bloody kid," not even intended to be said aloud; more like breath forming into words to even his ears. Braendar rode in a state of mild shock all the way back to the palace. Light, Aes Sedai! |
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Post by TK on Nov 28, 2004 19:31:02 GMT -5
((Er...
If it's okay with you, do you mind sort of revising that post? It's just... I'm kind of trying to stick Gendowin and Pertrova into the RP for a reason as characters who will reoccur later on in the plot, perhaps, and it sort of steps on my toes if... well, if she has no throat.
If this is all decent with you, then thanks!  )
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Post by irishdragonlord on Nov 29, 2004 16:13:03 GMT -5
((Er...
If it's okay with you, do you mind sort of revising that post? It's just... I'm kind of trying to stick Gendowin and Pertrova into the RP for a reason as characters who will reoccur later on in the plot, perhaps, and it sort of steps on my toes if... well, if she has no throat.
If this is all decent with you, then thanks! ) ((If you say so.. my intent was to keep Gendowhin alive, but do away with Petrova. I see where you're going, though )) |
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Post by Crystal on Nov 30, 2004 3:04:28 GMT -5
((If you say so.. my intent was to keep Gendowhin alive, but do away with Petrova. I see where you're going, though )) ((IDL... I think TK had some specific purpose for wanting both Pertrova and Gendowin to escape unharmed and more or less alive. When I tried to kill Gendowin off he saved her life very well indeed. Could you kinda let them both off unharmed? Sorry for being such a god-modder, but there could be a nice subplot brewing here that both of us don't really want to lose. Thanks! ;D BTW, if you were feeling left-out, don't be. It's on a smaller scale than this might make you think, and mostly concerning the bond, etc, between our characters.)) |
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Post by TK on Nov 30, 2004 16:00:49 GMT -5
((Eh, it's okay; forget it. Just in the future, if you could not take control of my characters, that'd be spiffy You don't see me roleplaying Braendar or Hawkwing or the wolves into some four-step waltz or anything.))Leun awoke from unconsciousness as he too often did, shaking off the pain as if it now was a familiar friend. He was, once again, within the infirmary of Tanreall's palace. This time, instead of remaining clad in his nondescript woolens, he changed back into his tunic and britches. Leun turned, seeing Ariena's still-sleeping body in the next bed. Light, but he only hoped she was sleeping, or his face would have long-since reddened. She was no longer his Warder, and he could not tell from looks alone. Light, but she was pretty. Leun snatched up his dagger and sheathed it, making haste down the corridors of the palace and fastening up his bolero as he went. He could not make sense of the situation without more information, and he would need al'Taren for that. It had been some time since he had last seen him. Reaching the last fastening, Leun realized it was not there. He had wrenched the ter'angreal free from it long ago, and now... he felt around in his pockets for the shing gem, and then memory came. The memory of him binding it to the ground with Air arose, with ties that could not have held for longer than a few hours. He looked through an open window, eyes widening. Rain came down in thickened curtains, drenching all within the streets of Farendal and those abroad, too. Water slicked the cobblestone streets and turned the earth into... into mud. And like that, Leun realized that the gemstone ter'angreal would be lost to him forever.
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Post by Crystal on Dec 1, 2004 0:07:35 GMT -5
((Hey, I'd like to see the wolves doing a four-step waltz. That would be... spiffy. ^______________^))
It was the sounds in the room that woke her. Light, but her head hurt.
When she opened her eyes, she still seemed to see double, her vision fuzzy and blurred. Something moved and she focused her eyes on it. It was Leun.
Light!
She squeezed her eyes shut again, quickly, and stayed that way until she heard him leaving. Burn him, couldn't he have changed somewhere else?
The door closed with a thud, and Ariena sat up, swinging her legs out of bed. They'd taken her clothes again. Checking to see if the door was properly closed - her cheeks flamed at the memory - she stripped and changed back into one of the nondescript, forest-green dresses in her battered saddlebag, belted at the waist with a leather belt. At the bottom of the bag was her Accepted's dress. For a moment her hand touched the soft material, then she tucked it firmly away. The tunic and baggy breeches she had worn yesterday was gone, Light only knew where they were. Her belt knife was gone - of course. She had sold it, and burn Leun for that. There was only the shortsword, and she wasn't going to wear that.
She fingered the golden Aes Sedai ring that hung about her neck. It practically screamed who she was. Absently, she tested the Warder bond. Leun was somewhere outside, probably wandering the palace.
Ariena could hear the rain pouring down outside the windows. The sun barely shone through the thick clouds.
Back in Tanreall's palace, and with nothing to show for their effort. She remembered nothing after leaping at Gendowin.
With a start, Ariena realized that the new shields that had been put round her were still there. She reached out more carefully this time, pulling out the knots with sheer instinct more than anything else. They'd never taught her anything like this in the Tower.
The shield slipped and fell, and she could grasp the True Source again. Ariena's brow furrowed in thought. Perhaps... if she could do this to a knot, what about a weave?
She created a tiny weave of Air, holding a pillow up in mid-air. Tying it off, she looked at the thing speculatively. She hadn't done this since she was sent to the Mistress of Novices when she was fifteen. And even that had been for a smaller weave than this.
One of the threads seemed a little loose, and she pulled at it delicately. It came loose. Her palms began to sweat after a while as the weaves grew more slippery.
She realized in a panic that the thing was out of her control. It was untangling fast, and she couldn't contain it.
Ariena dived out of the bed and hid behind the post. The pillow burst open with a small explosion, scattering cotton and feathers all about the room. At least she hadn't been using Fire THIS time.
Taking a deep breath, she lifted one of the feathers with Air again. If she had to practice the whole day to get this right, she would.
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Post by irishdragonlord on Dec 1, 2004 17:43:17 GMT -5
((-_-... ok, I have a solution ;D Petrova's face was bleeding really bad, which is why she was unrecognizable. Can I get away with a scar across her eye?  And I don't mind if you roleplay Tanreall much... I just thought the perspective would be more interesting from Petrova's eyes. And the wolves are pretty darn arrogant, but the waltz would be spiffy ^-^)) Braendar sat in his bed, thinking. He had visited the Aes Sedai; the wolf-attacked one's face had cleaned up nicely, while the other Aes Sedai was breathing weakly. Very weakly, but according to the physicians her chances of living were greatly improving. The other one would most likely have some angry scars, but no less; and her eye was intact, a blessing. Aes Sedai coming to Shandalle for vengeance would be awful. Braendar sat rigid. What was he saying?! Aes Sedai HAD come to Shandalle, it was his fault one of them had a scar, and small chance it was all a coincidence the Aes Sedai had arrived! Did they know just how in tune with he was with the wolves? Even if they didn't, he would be blamed. Why hadn't the wolves done away with them?! He knew that already; wolves avoided Aes Sedai like death and killing one was out of the question, the only reason the ones in the White Tower got no more than lumps. Probably because this Aes Sedai had attacked "Shadowhunter" and the "Black Cat" was why they scratched her up. Braendar leaned on the back of his bed, thinking. He sent a mental message to Greenleaf with thanks, and didn't bother to see if their was a respond from the she-wolf. No matter anyway, for one didn't come. Braendar rolled over and tried to get some sleep. Even if he succumbed to the wolf dream he would need it; he had too much on his mind. Rain had never helped him sleep, but it was quickly shut out as he fell into a blessed sleep, devoid of the wolf-dream, if not other dreams of angry Aes Sedai. So much for rest. *** Guaire Amalasan laughed maniacally. King of Darmovan! And all those who had sent him to the Red Ajah in the first place were now crow carrion; what a blessed taste vengeance was, only bested by saidin itself! ((Amalasan does take Darmovan before the year is half-out, btw, and as a note, Hawkwing came to the throne this very year, so Petrova isn't going to be very respectful And he has his first wife as well. Just a history lesson Oh, and Amalasan is going to take out the west coast of the continent when the year is out as well)) The Children of the Dragon followed behind him, the Aes Sedai symbol of old waving on the wind on its blue field; the symbol of the Dragon Reborn and the King of Darmovan. Amalasan laughed harder. |
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Post by TK on Dec 1, 2004 20:22:25 GMT -5
((Ooh, I like the scar To make her as much of a villain on the outside as the inside.))Pertrova held up the looking glass, staring at her reflection, clearly nettled. A narrow scar was sliced across the right side of her face, ranging past her eye. The foolish medics had not been able to heal it, and Gendowin's condition was far too severe for her to be roused to perform Healing enough. By the time she returned to the White Tower to call upon the aid of a Yellow, it would be too late. The damage would be permanent. Curse the wolves, she thought with a sinister growl. Curse the boy for leading them. It was the only explanation; Bonwhin had already informed her of his Talent. He had ordered them to kill her, undoubtedly. He along with his accomplices would suffer. Leaving Gendowin where she slept, Pertrova strode from the room. She was in Tanreall's palace, so perhaps half of the embassy's intent could be performed: if she would not be able to capture the renegades, then perhaps she could get the fool Tanreall into following them. She wandered briefly, for the throneroom would be easily spotted, without a doubt. Then, as she rounded the corner, she let forth a gasp she could not curtail. Standing before her in sweeping gowns of black was another woman, a grey shawl wrapped around her neck standing there. She was a small woman, clearly from the east, and with a good-natured face that had adapted to its agelessness impeccably well. Sherique Sedai of the Grey Ajah. "Pertrova Sedai," the Grey said brightly, lowering into a bow and smiling cheekily, "fancy meeting you here. My, what happened to your face? You're all dishevelled and there's... blood in your hair." Hand clenched until they went ashen, Pertrova stood, doing best to hide how nettled she was. "You received word that Gendowin and I would be dealing with Tanreall, Sherique. You cannot supersede us." She embraced saidar threateningly. Sherique kept surprising composure throughout this, her tinkly words striking with as much power as full shouts could. "No, Pertrova Sedai, I cannot - cannot as long as you're fully capable, you see. Word is that you took a rather nasty attack under wolves, and it seems that you may not be to well to talk." Her voice adapted a deprecatingly simpering tone. "Poor Gendowin isn't feeling too well, is she? You both took the same attack; you therefore can't be that better off. For the sake of the Tower, we can't have you make a slip because of a little bump on your noggin', can we? And you appear to be beat up and bruised - how would Artur Paendrag Tanreall feel if his guest came in dirt and rags? Not very flattered, you can see. This is why I'm afraid I'll have to be doing the talking, but don't worry. You can have the important role of keeping Gendowin company." As much as it burned to admit it, the woman was right - the state of affair gave her precedence! Light-blasted witch! It was clear why she wanted to, though - not for the glory of the Tower, but for the glory of herself. She would no doubt be vying for the role of Amyrlin, or Keeper, at the very least. Having a king, even a minor one, under her control would play exceptionally nicely. Saying naught, Pertrova swept around and strode off to her chambers, leaving Sherique to tend to Tanreall.
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Post by TK on Dec 2, 2004 14:32:59 GMT -5
((I was just wondering - can we get the RP moving out of Farendal? It's just that we've been here for almost half of the roleplay, and it might be nice to get a bit more action welling as it seems there really is little to do at this point if we don't grab the plot by the reins and force it out of this city.))
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Post by irishdragonlord on Dec 3, 2004 16:01:35 GMT -5
((I was just wondering - can we get the RP moving out of Farendal? It's just that we've been here for almost half of the roleplay, and it might be nice to get a bit more action welling as it seems there really is little to do at this point if we don't grab the plot by the reins and force it out of this city.)) ((Couldn't have had better timing At his peak (943 FY - it's the end of 939 in this RP)Guaire Amalasan will own the entire west coast (excepting the Borderlands), and ALL the southern lands, from the Shadow Coast to Tear - that is, Fergansea and Moreina. He will also own Ghealdan the the half of 'modern' Andor that includes the Two Rivers; Farashelle and Dhowlan to be specific. Anyways - By spring 940 (and now the RP is in late late autumn, if no one minds ) Shandalle will be one of the first to attack Amalasan with its armies. At no point is Artur Paendrag Tanreall in control, but he will never lose a battle to Amalasan (worst a stalemate), and by 942 he is known to all Hawkwing (his personal sigil and the flag of Shandalle includes hawks, but the name comes from his troop speed). The War of the Second Dragon ends in 943, but that's just the begginning XD Anyway, the RP can pick up speed anytime )) |
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Post by irishdragonlord on Dec 3, 2004 16:19:01 GMT -5
Artur Paendrag Tanreall, King of Shandalle, sat in his rooms. Lady Amaline Tagora, his wife, tried to console him. ((Eh heh - turns out Shandallins have their last names the equivalent of everyone else's middle name, so Artur would be called 'King Paendrag'. Odd, but according to the The World of Robert Jordan's the Wheel of Time (Robert Jordan and Teresa Patterson, where I get this info ) that seems to be the case. )) "Artur - surely the White Tower will not connect this to you?" He snorted. Of course they would. A young king vying for notice; a foolish young king. That would be how they read it. The worst part was, he was connected. That boy and the wolves; how else to explain the gash, or the other one's horrid condition? He looked into his wife's eyes. Light, but he loved her. But if any harm came to her, even from the White Tower... ((Not to spoil anything, but Bonwhin *kills* via poison Amaline in 969 FY, along with three of Artur's kids. It is *debated*, but for the sake of the RP, we will assume the theory it was all Bonwhin's fault That is much later, however XP )) He inhaled deeply. "The boy? The one I told you about? Braendar Al'Taren?" His wife merely nodded, calculating eyes watching him. "He caused this." Amaline jumped back and sat in a chair, staring at Paendrag. The bed felt suddenly uncomfortable. True, he had no proof it was the boy, but if true was half that rotten Captain of the Guards Taendar said, it must be him. "According to Taendar, he can talk to wolves. Control them, even." That truly was more of a quarter of what Taendar said. "Worse, rumors have it two prisoners escaped from the White Tower some time back; one, a man who could channel, and aiding him... a boy who could channel and talk to wolves." To believe such ridiculous newly started rumors he must be losing it; but the channeling in the city, the wolves... he shook his head to clear it. "It is more likely that not false, but..." But what? Amaline regained herself. "Artur..." she began, looking for a way to continue. "You... you must turn them in. You must." Artur found himself shaking his head. Why, he wondered? "They will trace it to me, think I sheltered them, think I gave them protection." Which he had, which made him more sick; curse his sense of honor, for taking that boy in! No turning back now. "I doubt he can channel, but nonetheless..." he sighed. "We have no choice, Amaline." He hated resigning himself to fate. |
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I mean, the wolves had to do something...^-^;;
) Braendar climbed into his saddle and began to ride back towards the palace. Rodrein only spared him a quizzical glance before catching up - in fact, pushing ahead - and very pointedly didn't look at him. He heard mutters of "bloody kid," not even intended to be said aloud; more like breath forming into words to even his ears.
)