Dax was afraid. He was truly and genuinely afraid. That terrified her beyond anything she had ever experienced. It felt as if he was trying to shove the entirety of his being through the bond, wrapping around her awareness with thick coils of desperate warmth and burning gold and fierce protectiveness. Katrie looked at Jaryd then Dax then back to Jaryd, her head finally turning slightly to glance at the Dedicated.
Seanchan. She had heard the stories. How they collared women that could channel. How they used those women as weapons... how those women were treated. How she would be treated if they caught her. Collared. Literally. She shuddered.
"Jaryd," brown eyes met coal black, "you can't -" die. She couldn't bring herself to say it. "I'm not done fighting with you yet." What might have been a ghost of a smile passed over his face. "I promise I won't Travel."
She didn't want to leave him. What if - what if he - I can help! a voice cried out in her mind. Indecision paralyzed her for a moment, Dax beating against her mind as she stared at the Asha'man. She couldn't help against Seanchan. Not if it meant they would learn how to Travel. If she stayed... if she was collared... they would know. The breath left her body in one shaky sigh.
And then Dax was urging her away, Katrie letting him lead her away. A spike of emotion came as she looked up at the black coated man. Propriety could hang, there wasn't any time for it now. A coppery hand reached out and snatched at the crook of the tall skinny Dedicated's elbow. "Come on, Limpy. You heard Asha'man Jaryd. We need to run!" He could go back to ignoring her later, when their lives weren't in peril.
As they rushed along, she grimaced. "I suppose it's too much to hope for that you're also an Earthsinger that knows Battle Weaves or something? Because I don't."
Uncommon Talents [Attn: Matty]
-
Jenn
- "The Path of Daggers"
- Posts: 1086
- Joined: October 12th, 2015, 1:33 am
- PC: Zarius "Zeen" Iiro, the M'Hael
- SC: Afanen "Affie" Vallen, Novice
Re: Uncommon Talents [Attn: Matty]
Jenn's Tracker - come write with me!
"Gravity has a way of humbling a man."
-
Matty
- "The Path of Daggers"
- Posts: 964
- Joined: December 16th, 2015, 8:19 pm
- PC: Murdock Mather, Keeper of the Archives
- SC: Nathaniel Carridus, Asha'man (Blue)
- TC: Maever Donovan, Asha'man (Yellow)
- Location: Plain of Lances, UK
Re: Uncommon Talents [Attn: Matty]
For the love of the Light... Murdock sighed to himself, though his distaste was not clear on his face. There was more to this woman and her Warder than met the eye, and Murdock had no idea what a senalra was or whatever Asha'man Jaryd was saying, but he did know that it was none of his business and he didn't want to know. Yet the pair made it very difficult to ignore them when they stood there talking and being dramatic, right in front of him. Alright so not right in front of him but he could hear them well enough, what happened to using wards for privacy? He didn't care if the woman was a runaway trainee, and he wasn't fussed about what she did away from the Grey Tower. But it was an Asha'man's job to bring a runaway back, and it just so happened that they knew one another prior to this exchange.
This was supposed to be a trip for just the Asha'man and the Dedicated. Murdock could hardly make the most of his time out of the Grey Tower if some dramatic upstart wanted to wax outrageous about being a bird and being free and all that drivel. Light! Nobody forced her to sign the Novice book! Everyone knew the dangers of channelling unsupervised, until you had control. When did some random girl know more than fully trained Aes Sedai and Asha'man? Murdock turned away from them where he was sat on a rock, not wanting to openly scowl their way. But really, if they couldn't still their tongues they couldn't get too irate when the Dedicated who was there first had thoughts on the matter.
Only when the Gaidin returned, did Murdock realise anything was amiss. He straightened up using his stick, blinking a few times but not offering more than his attention at the man's words. Though the mention of Seanchan was enough to make Murdock's stomach drop, and his brow furrowed slightly. The Gaidin looked a little worried, the Asha'man looked very unimpressed, and the girl looked... way too emotional for Murdock right then, Light. If you hadn't been here we wouldn't be in this situation, he thought, because the Seanchan wouldn't have any interest in Murdock or Asha'man Jaryd if they were out here alone - at least, that's what the Dedicated thought.
They had to leave, and Murdock wasn't going to try to play the hero. If they were being told to run, then run he bloody well would. He didn't want to go toe to toe with the Seanchan, those women were trained to be weapons and Murdock... was not. He gave Asha'man Jaryd a sharp salute to show he had understood, but then a second later he was being hauled along by the girl as if he had lost use of his legs. "Excuse me?" he grumped at the name 'Limpy'. "Do I look to be in any condition to run?" The Dedicated could move quickly though, and he picked up his pace, long legs eating the ground as he pushed himself and his poor stick to the limit. His leg throbbed in protest but Murdock didn't care to notice it, the alternative being a fight he couldn't win.
"I'm a Healer, not a fighter," Murdock told the girl, and he might have been quietly amused to disappoint her were the stakes not so high. "It won't come to that though. I saw the Keeper's ward he made - anyone that gets close to that is going to hurt." He didn't know how, Murdock had a limited understanding of wards, but it certainly looked painful. He had to be confident and content that whatever happened they would get out of here without encountering any Seanchan.
But it was not meant to be. A shadow like a demonic cloud passed over them, and Murdock looked up to see a... a what in the bloody Light was that thing? It was big, and flying, and it looked like it was carrying people. "Burn me to ash!" he couldn't help but swear, because to be fair anyone who saw one of those for the first time might be a little freaked out. Especially when it looked like one of the people on its back was wearing a grey dress and a collar, and waving her arms in a weaving motion.
A blaze of fire streaked from the sky, and one did not need the Foretelling to know who the target was. This gave "Oh Light" a whole new meaning... "MOVE!" he shouted at the girl, shoving her aside. He himself moved the other way, but the impact of the blazing fire on the earth was close enough to warm him to his bones as it knocked him from his unsteady feet. The lanky man sprawled on the ground, his stick rolled away, and his head was ringing.
Well, this is far from ideal. Murdock started to pick his head up, blinking at his slightly unsteady vision. His leg throbbed harder, and he ground his teeth together to keep from crying out.
The strange flying creature had landed ahead of them, and from its back came a pair of women, as well as a couple of Soldiers. A fear Murdock had never truly known wormed its way into his gut, and his calm demeanor was replaced by something younger and more vulnerable, his dark eyes wide as he looked at the insect like armour and formidable weapon of the man heading his way. Apparently Murdock was not the one who needed the most attention, because everyone else seemed to be focussed on the girl or the Gaidin, perhaps both. Murdock was on the floor and probably assumed to not be a threat, but Murdock wasn't going to let them take him if he could help it. Oh, and the others too, but himself specifically first. But what to do? Murdock put his head down, closing his eyes as he felt the footsteps of the man coming ever closer. Clinking metal from his weapon and armour meant he might burn nicely, if he heated him up properly, but his fire weaves might be too dangerous this close. Why, he was quite sure his hair was singed.
The footsteps stopped, just next to his head. Murdock knew what he had to do.
The armour was thick and strong, but all Murdock needed was to make contact. Skin contact would be easier. Yes, Murdock knew what his next move was, as a strong hand gripped him by the scruff of his neck and hauled him to his feet. The insectlike armour covered most of the body, but the mouth on this fellow was exposed. But even with that, the buglike helmet made Murdock feel like he was attacking a rabid beast rather than a fellow man as he threw his left hand out and shoved it unceremoniously into the soldier's mouth. Teeth and tongue and warm skin touched his fingers and he pulled a face even whilst he was seizing Saidin. Giselle would never approve of this, but it's him or me. He formed the weaves by instinct rather than habit or skill, going for the "wrong healing" which had killed the farmer by accident - and the woman, on purpose. This time, Murdock wanted to kill, to destroy, from the inside. He made the conscious effort to attack the inside of this man's body, Fire and Spirit and Earth with a bit of Water lacing through his system and setting his blood on fire. The soldier shrieked, muffled against Murdock's hand, but he held on tighter even as blood began to coat his fingers and make things a tad slippery. This was easier for Murdock than lashing out with Air or using a fireball of his own. How wrong was it, that it felt so right to be causing this amount of intentional harm on another person? But it was just as satisfying as Healing a patient. Reverse Healing. Taking what was fixed, and breaking it, was an art of its own. If Healing was poetry, Rending was a... an angry flute, being used to gouge a man's eyes out. Hah! This was all so rudimentary, like when he was learning to Heal, but he could see the potential there. It would take practice, but he would get that practice somehow. Murdock would find a way.
The soldier slumped to the ground and as he did, his grip on Murdock was released. His hand bloody, he stood there unsteadily as he was lacking a stick. But hey, this man had an elaborate polearm, so he picked that up and held it in both of his hands. He could use it as a staff and hope it didn't look obvious that he had no idea how to use it. "You won't be needing this," he told the soldier, who was spluttering and shrieking at his feet. Light, he was loud. Maybe he should cut the voicebox out next time to eliminate the noise. Or gag his mouth.
Now to see what had happened to his mysterious comrades. But the Dedicated didn't think he would be up to that amount of channelling again, not after the Healing and Rending he had done previously. Murdock leaned on his new stick and caught his breath, mindless of the blood staining the shaft and of course not noticing the slightly wild expression on his face.
This was supposed to be a trip for just the Asha'man and the Dedicated. Murdock could hardly make the most of his time out of the Grey Tower if some dramatic upstart wanted to wax outrageous about being a bird and being free and all that drivel. Light! Nobody forced her to sign the Novice book! Everyone knew the dangers of channelling unsupervised, until you had control. When did some random girl know more than fully trained Aes Sedai and Asha'man? Murdock turned away from them where he was sat on a rock, not wanting to openly scowl their way. But really, if they couldn't still their tongues they couldn't get too irate when the Dedicated who was there first had thoughts on the matter.
Only when the Gaidin returned, did Murdock realise anything was amiss. He straightened up using his stick, blinking a few times but not offering more than his attention at the man's words. Though the mention of Seanchan was enough to make Murdock's stomach drop, and his brow furrowed slightly. The Gaidin looked a little worried, the Asha'man looked very unimpressed, and the girl looked... way too emotional for Murdock right then, Light. If you hadn't been here we wouldn't be in this situation, he thought, because the Seanchan wouldn't have any interest in Murdock or Asha'man Jaryd if they were out here alone - at least, that's what the Dedicated thought.
They had to leave, and Murdock wasn't going to try to play the hero. If they were being told to run, then run he bloody well would. He didn't want to go toe to toe with the Seanchan, those women were trained to be weapons and Murdock... was not. He gave Asha'man Jaryd a sharp salute to show he had understood, but then a second later he was being hauled along by the girl as if he had lost use of his legs. "Excuse me?" he grumped at the name 'Limpy'. "Do I look to be in any condition to run?" The Dedicated could move quickly though, and he picked up his pace, long legs eating the ground as he pushed himself and his poor stick to the limit. His leg throbbed in protest but Murdock didn't care to notice it, the alternative being a fight he couldn't win.
"I'm a Healer, not a fighter," Murdock told the girl, and he might have been quietly amused to disappoint her were the stakes not so high. "It won't come to that though. I saw the Keeper's ward he made - anyone that gets close to that is going to hurt." He didn't know how, Murdock had a limited understanding of wards, but it certainly looked painful. He had to be confident and content that whatever happened they would get out of here without encountering any Seanchan.
But it was not meant to be. A shadow like a demonic cloud passed over them, and Murdock looked up to see a... a what in the bloody Light was that thing? It was big, and flying, and it looked like it was carrying people. "Burn me to ash!" he couldn't help but swear, because to be fair anyone who saw one of those for the first time might be a little freaked out. Especially when it looked like one of the people on its back was wearing a grey dress and a collar, and waving her arms in a weaving motion.
A blaze of fire streaked from the sky, and one did not need the Foretelling to know who the target was. This gave "Oh Light" a whole new meaning... "MOVE!" he shouted at the girl, shoving her aside. He himself moved the other way, but the impact of the blazing fire on the earth was close enough to warm him to his bones as it knocked him from his unsteady feet. The lanky man sprawled on the ground, his stick rolled away, and his head was ringing.
Well, this is far from ideal. Murdock started to pick his head up, blinking at his slightly unsteady vision. His leg throbbed harder, and he ground his teeth together to keep from crying out.
The strange flying creature had landed ahead of them, and from its back came a pair of women, as well as a couple of Soldiers. A fear Murdock had never truly known wormed its way into his gut, and his calm demeanor was replaced by something younger and more vulnerable, his dark eyes wide as he looked at the insect like armour and formidable weapon of the man heading his way. Apparently Murdock was not the one who needed the most attention, because everyone else seemed to be focussed on the girl or the Gaidin, perhaps both. Murdock was on the floor and probably assumed to not be a threat, but Murdock wasn't going to let them take him if he could help it. Oh, and the others too, but himself specifically first. But what to do? Murdock put his head down, closing his eyes as he felt the footsteps of the man coming ever closer. Clinking metal from his weapon and armour meant he might burn nicely, if he heated him up properly, but his fire weaves might be too dangerous this close. Why, he was quite sure his hair was singed.
The footsteps stopped, just next to his head. Murdock knew what he had to do.
The armour was thick and strong, but all Murdock needed was to make contact. Skin contact would be easier. Yes, Murdock knew what his next move was, as a strong hand gripped him by the scruff of his neck and hauled him to his feet. The insectlike armour covered most of the body, but the mouth on this fellow was exposed. But even with that, the buglike helmet made Murdock feel like he was attacking a rabid beast rather than a fellow man as he threw his left hand out and shoved it unceremoniously into the soldier's mouth. Teeth and tongue and warm skin touched his fingers and he pulled a face even whilst he was seizing Saidin. Giselle would never approve of this, but it's him or me. He formed the weaves by instinct rather than habit or skill, going for the "wrong healing" which had killed the farmer by accident - and the woman, on purpose. This time, Murdock wanted to kill, to destroy, from the inside. He made the conscious effort to attack the inside of this man's body, Fire and Spirit and Earth with a bit of Water lacing through his system and setting his blood on fire. The soldier shrieked, muffled against Murdock's hand, but he held on tighter even as blood began to coat his fingers and make things a tad slippery. This was easier for Murdock than lashing out with Air or using a fireball of his own. How wrong was it, that it felt so right to be causing this amount of intentional harm on another person? But it was just as satisfying as Healing a patient. Reverse Healing. Taking what was fixed, and breaking it, was an art of its own. If Healing was poetry, Rending was a... an angry flute, being used to gouge a man's eyes out. Hah! This was all so rudimentary, like when he was learning to Heal, but he could see the potential there. It would take practice, but he would get that practice somehow. Murdock would find a way.
The soldier slumped to the ground and as he did, his grip on Murdock was released. His hand bloody, he stood there unsteadily as he was lacking a stick. But hey, this man had an elaborate polearm, so he picked that up and held it in both of his hands. He could use it as a staff and hope it didn't look obvious that he had no idea how to use it. "You won't be needing this," he told the soldier, who was spluttering and shrieking at his feet. Light, he was loud. Maybe he should cut the voicebox out next time to eliminate the noise. Or gag his mouth.
Now to see what had happened to his mysterious comrades. But the Dedicated didn't think he would be up to that amount of channelling again, not after the Healing and Rending he had done previously. Murdock leaned on his new stick and caught his breath, mindless of the blood staining the shaft and of course not noticing the slightly wild expression on his face.
Last edited by Matty on April 11th, 2016, 9:51 am, edited 1 time in total.
------ Murdock -------------- Nathaniel --------------- Maever -------
-
Jenn
- "The Path of Daggers"
- Posts: 1086
- Joined: October 12th, 2015, 1:33 am
- PC: Zarius "Zeen" Iiro, the M'Hael
- SC: Afanen "Affie" Vallen, Novice
Re: Uncommon Talents [Attn: Matty]
Flaming Light. Limpy was a Healer. And she was neither Earthsinger or Healer. She had a Talent that could help end this... but couldn't use it for fear of the Seanchan learning how to use Gateways. She was sure there was some kind of inappropriate joke in there somewhere, but she couldn't think of it. Katrie shook her head, concentrating instead on placing one foot in front of the other.
The fleeing trio looked up at the same moment as an unfamiliar shadow passed above them. It was flying... whatever it was. Dax cursed, then cursed again, distance and flatness coming to the bond. The ko'di. She could sense saidar being drawn... but she couldn't tell what was being woven. That meant... A damane! A collar! They had come after her. Katrie gasped and she felt the fear in the bond spike higher, her Warder responding to her surge of panic.
"Burn me to ash!" Maybe the Dedicated wasn't such a stick in the mud after all. "MOVE!" Limpy abruptly shoved her sideways moments before the area they had just vacated was engulfed in a roaring inferno of flame and heat. Pain lanced up her hand, searing up her arm. She didn't have the breath to cry out as the blast knocked her off her feet. She felt the Gaidin's arms clamp around her waist, and rather than landing face first into the dirt, she collided against Dax instead.
"Run." That streak of fire had been meant for her. What about Limpy? came the distant, dazed thought. Her terror bubbled higher, and for a moment, she thought she saw tendrils of shadow curl around the very edges of her vision. Dax... The Tairen pressed something into her palm, closing her fingers around it. "Katrie, run!" He pushed her away from him and turned to face down... whatever it was that had landed, two soldiers in bug faced helmets... and the two women, one collared...
She felt something inside of her break as she did as her Warder wished. She spun on her heel and ran away. Heart lodged in her throat, she spared a glance down at what was nestled in her palm... brown eyes went wide at the sight of the familiar black stone necklace. Her heart gave a peculiar bump and skipped a beat. What? - How? - Why had - Light, it doesn't matter right now! The Accepted shook her head, shoving the necklace into her belt pouch with trembling fingers.
She ran until the stitch in her side was too much to ignore, a hand going to dig into her side, the pressure making it hurt less. Katrie paused for a moment, looking around wildly; how far away was she? She could still feel Dax as strongly as ever; he was fighting... but something... sharp pressed against her mind from him... Desperate. Frantic. All those things intensified as he recognized her attention. A chaotic jumble of emotions blared across the bond. A... warning? She inhaled sharply. He was warning her! She lurched into motion again, cutting across the path and into the trees that rose up on either side in silent majesty. Sending up a silent prayer, she picked the sturdiest tree she could see and began to climb.
Fear spurred her onward, terror motivating muscles to flex and pull upwards when they might have otherwise given up. She closed her eyes, pushing her cheek against the rough bark, struggling to pull in enough air to breathe. She clung to the side of the tree, her feet going to push tentative weight on the nearest branch. It bowed a little, swaying up and down, snapping suddenly. Katrie yelped, pulling back abruptly. As if summoned by the noise, one of the bug shaped helmets appeared beneath her, domed eyes glinting up at her. For a moment, terrified Accepted and insect clad man stared at one another. His arm drew back, and it was then that she noticed the black shaft in his hand ending in a very unpleasant looking barbed tip. Time slowed as she watched with a detached sense of curiosity. Her hands let go and for a moment, she floated, suspended over nothing.
She crashed down onto the soldier, the armour and the man beneath her breaking her fall. The big faced helmet rolled free and as they both groaned and spluttered she found herself looking into a face that looked back at her through his pain with utter disgust and revulsion. Her thoughts stilled. He was going to bring her back to be collared! Like a dog! How dare he look at her like that! The helplessness that she had felt since Deachal Green wrapped with her terror, twined together with Dax's blistering focus. It became rage, scathing focused rage.
Cause as much pain as possible, as quickly as possible.
Katrie drove her palm up into the man's nose, hearing the queasy sound of it breaking. She lashed out, two fingers striking against one of the man's eyes as hard as she could manage.
Forget whatever drivel the Tower told you about living by the Oaths. Run if you can, but kill if you must.
She scrambled back gracelessly as he howled, darting out beyond the wildly flailing arms. She didn't remember embracing, but saidar thrummed in her grasp. Flows of Air snaked around the helmet, the Accepted twisting it around until the protruding parts pointed downwards. She pulled the bug face towards her, a little noise of dismay escaping her lips before she brought it down like a cudgel against the soldier's face. She didn't stop until the man stopped twitching, her stomach roiling.
Pain... true pain exploded through the bond for a soul shattering second before the part of her mind where Dax inhabited went still. She didn't realize she had cried out his name, the tall Cairhienin staggering as she tried to take a step forward, grasping for him, desperate for some explanation. He... returned... a faint pulse of awareness through the fog of agony that settled around her mind. Dax! Her ankle throbbed painfully, as did her knee, but she did her best to ignore it as she limped her way back towards where she felt him to be. From that direction, she heard the rumbling thunder of not-so-distant explosions, the ground trembling and rocking beneath her feet seconds later.
The sensation was feeble, weak... but the intent remained the same as Dax clawed at her mind. Run.
Katrie stopped moving, tears coming to her eyes. He was hurt. He was her Warder and he wanted her to run. Jaryd was still back there. So was Limpy. She could help... she knew she could. But she had promised she would not make any Gateways. Light! Her head felt as if it would simply split in half from the strain. What should she do? What do I do?
She touched her left arm absently, confused as to why it suddenly began throbbing. Her fingertips came away capped with blood. Muted surprise lifted her brows and she glanced over at it. The sleeve had been burnt off, the skin beneath it broken and blistered. She stared at it dully for a moment, remembering the blaze of fire that the Dedicated had pushed her away from. What a jollybag.
The damane was close. Katrie could feel her. She had promised Jaryd she wouldn't make a Gateway, but had said nothing about channeling. Saidar came again, and she made the most complex weave she knew how to, an intricate ward that would stop sound both from entering and from escaping. She settled it roughly ten paces in front of her, inverting the flows. She did not release the Power, brown eyes bright in the pretty face that had gone pale. She began counting down from twenty.
When she reached five, the pair of woman appeared, the leashed one glowing far more brightly with the nimbus of the female half of the Source than Katrie ever would. The Accepted made no outward move, but she grasped on to a random thread in her inverted ward. Flows began to appear in front of the collared woman as they drew closer with their inexorable advance. She backed away for every step they took. How close did they have to be? She had no idea. She had no idea if this would work, either. It was really too late to worry about it though.
As the Seanchan pair stepped into her ward, Katrie yanked as hard as she could, one thread after the other, not realizing she was cursing out loud as she did so. The more she pulled, the harder it was to hold onto them. They felt... slippery, and she stopped trying to keep her weave together and coherent. Several threads flapped loose, waving and unfurling like ribbons in the wind. The damane was staring at her expressionlessly. Katrie threw herself sideways before her weave simply collapsed in on itself.
A concussion of sound roared out from seemingly everywhere at once, the force of the explosion driving her to her knees, and flattening her onto her back. Saidar winked out from around her, the world flickering in and out of focus and confusing darkness.
"Serenla!" She thought she heard... but... her head was throbbing too hard. A curious buzzing-like ringing filled her ears and she blinked up at the sky. Ow... I think I'm going to throw up...
The fleeing trio looked up at the same moment as an unfamiliar shadow passed above them. It was flying... whatever it was. Dax cursed, then cursed again, distance and flatness coming to the bond. The ko'di. She could sense saidar being drawn... but she couldn't tell what was being woven. That meant... A damane! A collar! They had come after her. Katrie gasped and she felt the fear in the bond spike higher, her Warder responding to her surge of panic.
"Burn me to ash!" Maybe the Dedicated wasn't such a stick in the mud after all. "MOVE!" Limpy abruptly shoved her sideways moments before the area they had just vacated was engulfed in a roaring inferno of flame and heat. Pain lanced up her hand, searing up her arm. She didn't have the breath to cry out as the blast knocked her off her feet. She felt the Gaidin's arms clamp around her waist, and rather than landing face first into the dirt, she collided against Dax instead.
"Run." That streak of fire had been meant for her. What about Limpy? came the distant, dazed thought. Her terror bubbled higher, and for a moment, she thought she saw tendrils of shadow curl around the very edges of her vision. Dax... The Tairen pressed something into her palm, closing her fingers around it. "Katrie, run!" He pushed her away from him and turned to face down... whatever it was that had landed, two soldiers in bug faced helmets... and the two women, one collared...
She felt something inside of her break as she did as her Warder wished. She spun on her heel and ran away. Heart lodged in her throat, she spared a glance down at what was nestled in her palm... brown eyes went wide at the sight of the familiar black stone necklace. Her heart gave a peculiar bump and skipped a beat. What? - How? - Why had - Light, it doesn't matter right now! The Accepted shook her head, shoving the necklace into her belt pouch with trembling fingers.
She ran until the stitch in her side was too much to ignore, a hand going to dig into her side, the pressure making it hurt less. Katrie paused for a moment, looking around wildly; how far away was she? She could still feel Dax as strongly as ever; he was fighting... but something... sharp pressed against her mind from him... Desperate. Frantic. All those things intensified as he recognized her attention. A chaotic jumble of emotions blared across the bond. A... warning? She inhaled sharply. He was warning her! She lurched into motion again, cutting across the path and into the trees that rose up on either side in silent majesty. Sending up a silent prayer, she picked the sturdiest tree she could see and began to climb.
Fear spurred her onward, terror motivating muscles to flex and pull upwards when they might have otherwise given up. She closed her eyes, pushing her cheek against the rough bark, struggling to pull in enough air to breathe. She clung to the side of the tree, her feet going to push tentative weight on the nearest branch. It bowed a little, swaying up and down, snapping suddenly. Katrie yelped, pulling back abruptly. As if summoned by the noise, one of the bug shaped helmets appeared beneath her, domed eyes glinting up at her. For a moment, terrified Accepted and insect clad man stared at one another. His arm drew back, and it was then that she noticed the black shaft in his hand ending in a very unpleasant looking barbed tip. Time slowed as she watched with a detached sense of curiosity. Her hands let go and for a moment, she floated, suspended over nothing.
She crashed down onto the soldier, the armour and the man beneath her breaking her fall. The big faced helmet rolled free and as they both groaned and spluttered she found herself looking into a face that looked back at her through his pain with utter disgust and revulsion. Her thoughts stilled. He was going to bring her back to be collared! Like a dog! How dare he look at her like that! The helplessness that she had felt since Deachal Green wrapped with her terror, twined together with Dax's blistering focus. It became rage, scathing focused rage.
Cause as much pain as possible, as quickly as possible.
Katrie drove her palm up into the man's nose, hearing the queasy sound of it breaking. She lashed out, two fingers striking against one of the man's eyes as hard as she could manage.
Forget whatever drivel the Tower told you about living by the Oaths. Run if you can, but kill if you must.
She scrambled back gracelessly as he howled, darting out beyond the wildly flailing arms. She didn't remember embracing, but saidar thrummed in her grasp. Flows of Air snaked around the helmet, the Accepted twisting it around until the protruding parts pointed downwards. She pulled the bug face towards her, a little noise of dismay escaping her lips before she brought it down like a cudgel against the soldier's face. She didn't stop until the man stopped twitching, her stomach roiling.
Pain... true pain exploded through the bond for a soul shattering second before the part of her mind where Dax inhabited went still. She didn't realize she had cried out his name, the tall Cairhienin staggering as she tried to take a step forward, grasping for him, desperate for some explanation. He... returned... a faint pulse of awareness through the fog of agony that settled around her mind. Dax! Her ankle throbbed painfully, as did her knee, but she did her best to ignore it as she limped her way back towards where she felt him to be. From that direction, she heard the rumbling thunder of not-so-distant explosions, the ground trembling and rocking beneath her feet seconds later.
The sensation was feeble, weak... but the intent remained the same as Dax clawed at her mind. Run.
Katrie stopped moving, tears coming to her eyes. He was hurt. He was her Warder and he wanted her to run. Jaryd was still back there. So was Limpy. She could help... she knew she could. But she had promised she would not make any Gateways. Light! Her head felt as if it would simply split in half from the strain. What should she do? What do I do?
She touched her left arm absently, confused as to why it suddenly began throbbing. Her fingertips came away capped with blood. Muted surprise lifted her brows and she glanced over at it. The sleeve had been burnt off, the skin beneath it broken and blistered. She stared at it dully for a moment, remembering the blaze of fire that the Dedicated had pushed her away from. What a jollybag.
The damane was close. Katrie could feel her. She had promised Jaryd she wouldn't make a Gateway, but had said nothing about channeling. Saidar came again, and she made the most complex weave she knew how to, an intricate ward that would stop sound both from entering and from escaping. She settled it roughly ten paces in front of her, inverting the flows. She did not release the Power, brown eyes bright in the pretty face that had gone pale. She began counting down from twenty.
When she reached five, the pair of woman appeared, the leashed one glowing far more brightly with the nimbus of the female half of the Source than Katrie ever would. The Accepted made no outward move, but she grasped on to a random thread in her inverted ward. Flows began to appear in front of the collared woman as they drew closer with their inexorable advance. She backed away for every step they took. How close did they have to be? She had no idea. She had no idea if this would work, either. It was really too late to worry about it though.
As the Seanchan pair stepped into her ward, Katrie yanked as hard as she could, one thread after the other, not realizing she was cursing out loud as she did so. The more she pulled, the harder it was to hold onto them. They felt... slippery, and she stopped trying to keep her weave together and coherent. Several threads flapped loose, waving and unfurling like ribbons in the wind. The damane was staring at her expressionlessly. Katrie threw herself sideways before her weave simply collapsed in on itself.
A concussion of sound roared out from seemingly everywhere at once, the force of the explosion driving her to her knees, and flattening her onto her back. Saidar winked out from around her, the world flickering in and out of focus and confusing darkness.
"Serenla!" She thought she heard... but... her head was throbbing too hard. A curious buzzing-like ringing filled her ears and she blinked up at the sky. Ow... I think I'm going to throw up...
Jenn's Tracker - come write with me!
"Gravity has a way of humbling a man."
-
Sunny
- "Knife of Dreams"
- Posts: 3757
- Joined: July 18th, 2014, 3:23 am
- PC: Jaryd Kosari
- SC: Dakson Torellion
- TC: Finn
- QC: Owen Andarin
Re: Uncommon Talents [Attn: Matty]
Accepted, Dedicated, and Gaidin ran as one. Jaryd stood in place, ageless face empty of expression, dark eyes glittering in the afternoon sun as he watched the trees for the approaching invaders. Using the One Power as a weapon is cheating, a younger version of himself whispered outside the Void. He ignored it. If he hesitated even a moment, people who trusted him for protection would die or be imprisoned. Katrie would be consumed by the greatest aberration of One Power use he had ever heard of.
The first soldiers strode past the Asha’man’s Ward. Jaryd waited until they made eye contact, then flipped his coin high above his head. Jaryd lacked the skill to liquify rock or call the rain, but where subtlety failed, brute strength would do. He could do it without a focus, but it seemed easier to do if he had something specific to wrap the flows around. In this case….the bit of metal he had chosen streaked toward the Seanchan on a thread of Air and Fire. When the cage of the One Power that he had built around the coin impacted with the Seanchan soldier, the air rippled for a moment, and the tightly-woven flows unwound. Air and Spirit exploded; the force of the impact bloodied noses, knocked weapons out of hands, threw men against each other, to the ground, and against trees. Shouts of confusion and pain rose, and Jaryd saw more movement approaching.
He waited, frozen, knowing what was to come, knowing he should turn away, and yet honor held him in place. A woman in gray came through the trees a breath later, her silver leash leading to a much smaller woman in blue and red. Their eyes locked together, and Jaryd’s skin began to tingle. A fireball appeared in the damane’s hand and she tossed it at him almost lazily. Jaryd arched an eyebrow; they thought him no threat, did they?
Spirit sliced the Seanchan woman’s flows, and the fireball winked out. Spirit and Air wound together in his hand, and a crackling ball of the One Power expanded above his palm, invisible to any who could not channel saidin. Without the coin to bind the flows together the weave was less controlled, more volatile, expanding and contracting as if it had breath of its own. He tilted his head at the damane with a quirk of smile- and tossed the ball at the soldiers who approached from behind her. The force of the explosion pressed against his ears, and he took several quick steps backward.
The two channelers who faced him stumbled and nearly fell, but they eventually advanced. The damane seemed pale and unhappy. “Mina needs-” whatever she had been about to say was lost forever as she encountered the wall of Wards Jaryd had created earlier. Her body passed through the flows of Spirit and she shrieked, grabbing at her collar, then screamed again as her hands distorted painfully. She fell to the ground despite her sul’dam’s curses, curling around herself, still screaming. Jaryd winced and glanced away; even his own definitions of honor were not strong enough to force him to continue looking at what he had wrought. The simpler a Ward was, the better it worked. In this case, he had created the same Ward that many channelers used to protect their belongings, but keyed it to ter’angreal. The a’dam could not light on fire as papers might, but it could superheat. If they lived, both women would have scars from those burns. Scars he had created. Light!
Flows of Air arched from his fingers to form a wall three spans tall and as wide as his vision could take it as he backed away. Then another. Then a third. Satisfied that wards and walls would keep that specific group busy for some time, the Keeper turned on his heel and fled, struggling to keep his mind calm. It was one thing to fight a Dreadlord. It might even be understandable to attack the sul’dam. The damane, however….that poor woman had had no choice in the matter....none at all.
He forced his attention forward, just in time for a long shadow to cross over him, growing larger as it descended. The odd bat-like creature had riders: men in armor, and another pair of women. Fire erupted from the woman’s hand, and he heard Murdock’s voice, louder and more commanding than he could have believed possible. Jaryd’s stride increased until at last he could see the creature’s head. Air lashed out, wrist-thick coils that wrapped around the thing’s neck and yanked upward before lashing the Air around a tree. Like a leash on a very large dog, he thought grimly, tying off the flows. Whatever it was, the creature thrashed and struggled against its binding, keening a painfully high-pitched shriek.
Dax moved with deadly grace, Jaryd noticed, far more than even a Gaidin typically possessed, and certainly more than he had demonstrated during the brief time they had been bonded. Saidin flared to his left and he turned in time to see Murdock lift a polearm from the dead man at his feet, and lean on it heavily. There was no sign of Katrie or the other women, and Jaryd felt his stomach turn. Where is she? If she were in immediate danger, Dax would surely be seeking her out.
Air and Spirit flickered to his bidding, explosions and chaos following every hand gesture to force a path in the direction they needed to go. He gestured for Murdock to move in that direction. Slowly -too slowly- he and Dax worked together to force the enemy away even as they themselves retreated. Even as strong as he was, Jaryd began to feel the strain of splitting his flows so many times, his head throbbing with the effort. He had not yet hit that sick-sweet edge of pain that came with channeling too much, but if they did not gain respite soon, he would.
A man cried out, and Jaryd’s head whipped to look for Dax.The Tairen fought desperately with three men in armor, the entire group moving so quickly that Jaryd dared not interfere. One of the Seanchan whirled his polearm, the deadly black haft connecting with the back of Dax’s head. The Gaidin cried out again and collapsed. The warrior flipped his polearm around, the deadly steel streaking toward the prone man.
Jaryd channeled delicate flows of Air, reaching for that weapon and twisting it out of its carrier’s hands, turning it in a rapid half-moon motion. The three men fell bonelessly, their screams ended prematurely by the steel blade. Then the Asha’man lifted his hands, Air arching into a dome that covered his charges and himself, and then rapidly expanded, shoving everything in its path away. Fifty paces away, he tied the flows off, leaving those they had fought to pound against the air, shouting in their fear and fury.
Now he felt that bittersweet edge. Be careful, Jaryd, Kaia told him quietly. How many times had she warned him about moderation, and how many times had he ignored her? I have to see her again. With the thought came the all too real thought that perhaps he might not, or that he might have to bring her bad news. For a moment fear and grief beat at the Void, but he shoved them away. I'm not done yet, he told his treacherous mind. Nor will I be.
He and Murdock stood in blessed silence for two breaths before he moved to check on Dax, hissing as he turned him over and realized he had taken far more than a polearm to the head. He would need attention very soon. Perhaps Murdock could help him once they were through the gate, but there was no time at that moment. “More than you signed up for, wasn’t it?” He commented wryly. “Me, too.” He upended his waterskin over the younger man’s face and Dax sputtered, surging upward with murder in his blue eyes.
“Katrie!” Jaryd’s stomach flipped; after a moment, Dax added in a distressed tone, “She’s hurt.” Relief: hurt was not the same as collared. The Gaidin rolled and pushed himself to his feet with obvious effort, his arm curved around his torso to cover blood-soaked shirt, and his other hand rubbing at his head. He turned, his gaze sweeping past both Jaryd and Murdock in the direction they had been running, pinpointing on something in the distance. Or rather, Someone, Jaryd thought.
“We move,” Jaryd said sharply, turning away from the Seanchan. Flanked by the two men, frustrated by their inability to move quickly, and worried about Katrie, Jaryd led them away. Thankfully they did not have to go far; they topped the next rise and below them Jaryd could see all three of the missing women facing off as if to fight. His skin prickled, though he could not see that anything in particular was happening. Light, according to Kaia, Katrie could barely channel at all. How could she possibly hope to fight a damane?
“Serenla!” He started to cry, but even as his stride increased, the Accepted threw herself to the side…..and an explosion far larger than anything Katrie should have been able to create burst through the air, knocking everything in its path backward.
Despite his injuries, Dax made it to Katrie first, crouching beside the woman as Jaryd and Murdock approached, guilt and horror etched on his face. That has to hurt, the Asha’man thought, noticing the burns on Katrie’s arm. “Wake her up,” he said gruffly, but not without care. “We only have a few minutes.”
They had found a moment of safety, but it would not last long. He reached into his sash and pulled out a palm-sized star made of an odd silvery metal, staring at it for a long moment. Then he seized the True Source through the star, yanking that inferno to his bidding with every ounce of strength he had left. Air and Spirit wove together first, forming a protective circle around them. Fire wove through, and Earth, the Ward designed to encourage would-be intruders to move in another direction. He did not know if he had it in him to fight anymore; perhaps that alone would give them enough time to escape.
Then he stood quietly for several long minutes, completely ignoring his companions as he held the One Power in his grasp. There were rules to Traveling, the same as any weave or Talent, and as with any rules, there were ways to circumvent them. Skimming was easier to do, and required less time, especially while holding the Source. Eventually he channeled again, flows of all Five Powers melding together to form a silvery slash in the air that rotated into inky black nothing. In that darkness, a platform made of dusty white cobblestones floated, crumbling edges dropping into nothing. Murdock or Dax had roused Katrie, it seemed; all three looked at him in surprise. “Where will that take us?” Katrie asked, her voice strained.
“My old study,” Jaryd said softly.
The first soldiers strode past the Asha’man’s Ward. Jaryd waited until they made eye contact, then flipped his coin high above his head. Jaryd lacked the skill to liquify rock or call the rain, but where subtlety failed, brute strength would do. He could do it without a focus, but it seemed easier to do if he had something specific to wrap the flows around. In this case….the bit of metal he had chosen streaked toward the Seanchan on a thread of Air and Fire. When the cage of the One Power that he had built around the coin impacted with the Seanchan soldier, the air rippled for a moment, and the tightly-woven flows unwound. Air and Spirit exploded; the force of the impact bloodied noses, knocked weapons out of hands, threw men against each other, to the ground, and against trees. Shouts of confusion and pain rose, and Jaryd saw more movement approaching.
He waited, frozen, knowing what was to come, knowing he should turn away, and yet honor held him in place. A woman in gray came through the trees a breath later, her silver leash leading to a much smaller woman in blue and red. Their eyes locked together, and Jaryd’s skin began to tingle. A fireball appeared in the damane’s hand and she tossed it at him almost lazily. Jaryd arched an eyebrow; they thought him no threat, did they?
Spirit sliced the Seanchan woman’s flows, and the fireball winked out. Spirit and Air wound together in his hand, and a crackling ball of the One Power expanded above his palm, invisible to any who could not channel saidin. Without the coin to bind the flows together the weave was less controlled, more volatile, expanding and contracting as if it had breath of its own. He tilted his head at the damane with a quirk of smile- and tossed the ball at the soldiers who approached from behind her. The force of the explosion pressed against his ears, and he took several quick steps backward.
The two channelers who faced him stumbled and nearly fell, but they eventually advanced. The damane seemed pale and unhappy. “Mina needs-” whatever she had been about to say was lost forever as she encountered the wall of Wards Jaryd had created earlier. Her body passed through the flows of Spirit and she shrieked, grabbing at her collar, then screamed again as her hands distorted painfully. She fell to the ground despite her sul’dam’s curses, curling around herself, still screaming. Jaryd winced and glanced away; even his own definitions of honor were not strong enough to force him to continue looking at what he had wrought. The simpler a Ward was, the better it worked. In this case, he had created the same Ward that many channelers used to protect their belongings, but keyed it to ter’angreal. The a’dam could not light on fire as papers might, but it could superheat. If they lived, both women would have scars from those burns. Scars he had created. Light!
Flows of Air arched from his fingers to form a wall three spans tall and as wide as his vision could take it as he backed away. Then another. Then a third. Satisfied that wards and walls would keep that specific group busy for some time, the Keeper turned on his heel and fled, struggling to keep his mind calm. It was one thing to fight a Dreadlord. It might even be understandable to attack the sul’dam. The damane, however….that poor woman had had no choice in the matter....none at all.
He forced his attention forward, just in time for a long shadow to cross over him, growing larger as it descended. The odd bat-like creature had riders: men in armor, and another pair of women. Fire erupted from the woman’s hand, and he heard Murdock’s voice, louder and more commanding than he could have believed possible. Jaryd’s stride increased until at last he could see the creature’s head. Air lashed out, wrist-thick coils that wrapped around the thing’s neck and yanked upward before lashing the Air around a tree. Like a leash on a very large dog, he thought grimly, tying off the flows. Whatever it was, the creature thrashed and struggled against its binding, keening a painfully high-pitched shriek.
Dax moved with deadly grace, Jaryd noticed, far more than even a Gaidin typically possessed, and certainly more than he had demonstrated during the brief time they had been bonded. Saidin flared to his left and he turned in time to see Murdock lift a polearm from the dead man at his feet, and lean on it heavily. There was no sign of Katrie or the other women, and Jaryd felt his stomach turn. Where is she? If she were in immediate danger, Dax would surely be seeking her out.
Air and Spirit flickered to his bidding, explosions and chaos following every hand gesture to force a path in the direction they needed to go. He gestured for Murdock to move in that direction. Slowly -too slowly- he and Dax worked together to force the enemy away even as they themselves retreated. Even as strong as he was, Jaryd began to feel the strain of splitting his flows so many times, his head throbbing with the effort. He had not yet hit that sick-sweet edge of pain that came with channeling too much, but if they did not gain respite soon, he would.
A man cried out, and Jaryd’s head whipped to look for Dax.The Tairen fought desperately with three men in armor, the entire group moving so quickly that Jaryd dared not interfere. One of the Seanchan whirled his polearm, the deadly black haft connecting with the back of Dax’s head. The Gaidin cried out again and collapsed. The warrior flipped his polearm around, the deadly steel streaking toward the prone man.
Jaryd channeled delicate flows of Air, reaching for that weapon and twisting it out of its carrier’s hands, turning it in a rapid half-moon motion. The three men fell bonelessly, their screams ended prematurely by the steel blade. Then the Asha’man lifted his hands, Air arching into a dome that covered his charges and himself, and then rapidly expanded, shoving everything in its path away. Fifty paces away, he tied the flows off, leaving those they had fought to pound against the air, shouting in their fear and fury.
Now he felt that bittersweet edge. Be careful, Jaryd, Kaia told him quietly. How many times had she warned him about moderation, and how many times had he ignored her? I have to see her again. With the thought came the all too real thought that perhaps he might not, or that he might have to bring her bad news. For a moment fear and grief beat at the Void, but he shoved them away. I'm not done yet, he told his treacherous mind. Nor will I be.
He and Murdock stood in blessed silence for two breaths before he moved to check on Dax, hissing as he turned him over and realized he had taken far more than a polearm to the head. He would need attention very soon. Perhaps Murdock could help him once they were through the gate, but there was no time at that moment. “More than you signed up for, wasn’t it?” He commented wryly. “Me, too.” He upended his waterskin over the younger man’s face and Dax sputtered, surging upward with murder in his blue eyes.
“Katrie!” Jaryd’s stomach flipped; after a moment, Dax added in a distressed tone, “She’s hurt.” Relief: hurt was not the same as collared. The Gaidin rolled and pushed himself to his feet with obvious effort, his arm curved around his torso to cover blood-soaked shirt, and his other hand rubbing at his head. He turned, his gaze sweeping past both Jaryd and Murdock in the direction they had been running, pinpointing on something in the distance. Or rather, Someone, Jaryd thought.
“We move,” Jaryd said sharply, turning away from the Seanchan. Flanked by the two men, frustrated by their inability to move quickly, and worried about Katrie, Jaryd led them away. Thankfully they did not have to go far; they topped the next rise and below them Jaryd could see all three of the missing women facing off as if to fight. His skin prickled, though he could not see that anything in particular was happening. Light, according to Kaia, Katrie could barely channel at all. How could she possibly hope to fight a damane?
“Serenla!” He started to cry, but even as his stride increased, the Accepted threw herself to the side…..and an explosion far larger than anything Katrie should have been able to create burst through the air, knocking everything in its path backward.
Despite his injuries, Dax made it to Katrie first, crouching beside the woman as Jaryd and Murdock approached, guilt and horror etched on his face. That has to hurt, the Asha’man thought, noticing the burns on Katrie’s arm. “Wake her up,” he said gruffly, but not without care. “We only have a few minutes.”
They had found a moment of safety, but it would not last long. He reached into his sash and pulled out a palm-sized star made of an odd silvery metal, staring at it for a long moment. Then he seized the True Source through the star, yanking that inferno to his bidding with every ounce of strength he had left. Air and Spirit wove together first, forming a protective circle around them. Fire wove through, and Earth, the Ward designed to encourage would-be intruders to move in another direction. He did not know if he had it in him to fight anymore; perhaps that alone would give them enough time to escape.
Then he stood quietly for several long minutes, completely ignoring his companions as he held the One Power in his grasp. There were rules to Traveling, the same as any weave or Talent, and as with any rules, there were ways to circumvent them. Skimming was easier to do, and required less time, especially while holding the Source. Eventually he channeled again, flows of all Five Powers melding together to form a silvery slash in the air that rotated into inky black nothing. In that darkness, a platform made of dusty white cobblestones floated, crumbling edges dropping into nothing. Murdock or Dax had roused Katrie, it seemed; all three looked at him in surprise. “Where will that take us?” Katrie asked, her voice strained.
“My old study,” Jaryd said softly.
False alarm- there's still a song for me; I'm just about around to sing it
There's still a chance for me...and I'm still here singing.
-
Matty
- "The Path of Daggers"
- Posts: 964
- Joined: December 16th, 2015, 8:19 pm
- PC: Murdock Mather, Keeper of the Archives
- SC: Nathaniel Carridus, Asha'man (Blue)
- TC: Maever Donovan, Asha'man (Yellow)
- Location: Plain of Lances, UK
Re: Uncommon Talents [Attn: Matty]
Any elation at being able to defend himself was soon lost as Murdock realised just how out of his league he was here. Asha’man Jaryd was channelling in ways he had never seen before, splitting flows and defending them with a skill Murdock knew he would never have. Elsewhere, the Gaidin was fighting like a weapon made liquid flesh, moving, again, in a way Murdock never could. Strangely, a twinge of jealousy set in, but as Asha’man Jaryd pointed in the direction for him to go, Murdock set it aside and got to walking at speed. He was in no position to fight, he lacked the skill for a start, and he had no intention of getting himself killed. You did what you could, and you are still alive. Don’t mess that up now. So let the Gaidin and the Keeper deal with the Seanchan, he would have to step in if one came too close that was all.
There was nothing he could do when the Gaidin fell, and again it was the Asha’man who must have done something to intervene. He did go over to see if he could assist in some way but it seemed everything was well in hand, and then the Keeper was channelling another ward. Well. Murdock looked on as Seanchan were thrown unceremoniously away, and he couldn’t help but grin a little at the sight before he remembered that they were still in trouble.
It seemed like a very bad idea to let the Gaidin walk in his current state, but given the look on his face Murdock didn’t think he could stop him even if he wanted to. So he didn’t, letting the man lead the way in the direction of their runaway harlot, Katrie. It was good to have a name other than “serenla” for her. The Gaidin would be okay for now; Murdock would just have to Heal him later when they weren’t in any immediate danger. Let him get to his precious woman first. Fool, if that were Giselle you would be much the same. No denying that. But hey, at least this Accepted wasn’t dead.
He hastened after the Keeper as best he could, though he knew his leg was going to be complaining about this for quite some time. Ignoring it, he crested the rise just in time for an explosion of impressive proportions to accompany the shivering along his arms – he looked on with surprise, dark eyes searching out Katrie rather than the Seanchan. None of them seemed to be moving, which was either a very good or very bad thing. The Gaidin hurried on ahead as the two channellers followed behind, but Murdock’s attention wasn’t on her. She was alive, clearly; he was looking at the two Seanchan channellers. If Katrie was alive, they could be as well.
Not if Murdock had anything to do with it.
He limped his way over as the other three were occupied, getting a good look at the Seanchan woman in the lightning dress. She was flat on her back, burn marks covering her torso, but the slight movement of her chest indicated she was still alive, somehow. Murdock didn’t know a great deal about the Seanchan, and damane and Sul’dam were titles which meant little to him. He knew it was about slaving women channellers and that the collar controlled them, but he wasn’t inclined to let either woman live when they could compromise his safe getaway. Murdock took the polearm in his hand – his stick had sadly not survived the fall, much to his dismay – and turned it so the elaborate pointed end faced downwards. Wordlessly he jammed the end through the woman’s throat, leaning his weight on it and looking into her eyes the whole while. This is what you get for attacking me. Oh, and the Grey Tower and the people in it, but he took it rather personally when people tried to kill him, directly or not.
Interestingly enough the woman on the end of the leash was gasping and choking as if she was the one stabbed in the neck. What a strange turn of events! Murdock watched, powerless to do anything and fascinated regardless, as both of the women died from a single jab of the weapon. At least nobody else there seemed to care what he did. The Keeper was concentrating, probably to do something with the Power, and the Gaidin and runaway Accepted were too caught up giving each other lovey-dovey eyes or whatever to notice anything else going on around them. Murdock limped his way back and silently wished he had more Seanchan to neutralise so he didn’t have to sit and be the third wheel to such shenanigans.
But happily enough the wait came to an end as a Gateway appeared to show a platform. Skimming, ah! Murdock hadn’t done this before but he did know the theory behind it. There was no telling him twice to get in there, though it seemed the Accepted was resisting as much as a weak, injured woman could resist two other men. Murdock left them to it and went in before them, the Gaidin could use the pointy end of his weapon to prod Katrie along if he asked for it but other than that he was staying well out of their way. Light, obstinate woman! Still making it all about her. “Just deal with it,” he grumped at the woman, earning a sharp look from more than one set of eyes. His return look was flat as he stood there and leaned on his new stick.
The journey to Asha’man Jaryd’s old study was quick and quiet, thank the Light. Murdock wanted to ask about the weaves the man had used when they first arrived, other wards which he had never seen before, but now didn’t seem to be a good time. Besides which, Murdock knew he would never be able to replicate them himself. He lacked the strength or the skill with wards. My skills lie elsewhere. Three people, killed by his hand. Two of them were on purpose! This had to be a personal best.
He was glad to be off the platform when they reached the study, though the room they entered looked a little... worn. The inner furniture designer in Murdock would have varnished the wood and replaced a few cushions here and there, but really he was only thinking about what his Da would have said, rather than what he could actually accomplish. At least the second room, which looked to be a main room, was a little nicer. Asha’man Jaryd insisted they go in there instead, probably because it was nicer and a bit less creepy than in here. The last thing Murdock saw on the way through was the large map of the Westlands on the wall, but it meant little to him at this moment. None of this was his business.
Now they were safe though, the two injured people were. “You are both injured and need attention,” he said. A look to Asha’man Jaryd, who gave a curt nod, and he went to inspect them. Katrie was first, and she looked as if she might bat his hands away at first. But maybe she was tired of fighting because in the end she left him to it. Some burns along her arm, a few scratches, and nothing life threatening. As he expected – onto the Gaidin he went, weaving Spirit to see what the problem was.
Well. Now this was more like it. “Asha’man Jaryd, could you possibly Heal the Accepted? I cannot leave these wounds unattended any longer but I will be unable to channel after this.” A serious head injury, more cuts than one man should realistically be able to receive, and no small amount of bruises, not to mention some blood loss. And a fractured couple of ribs. By the Light, Gaidin didn’t know when to quit did they? There was also a hairline fracture in his foot of all places. “How are you even still walking?” he asked the man. “No, don’t answer that. Let me Heal you, you’re one nap away from never waking up again.” Murdock rested his hands, mindless of the blood, on the man’s head. He drew upon all five of the elements to form the most intricate weaves he knew, flows splitting and weaving together with a skill Murdock often forgot he had. The weaves settled into the Gaidin and soothed his injuries away, different types for different areas. Earth dominated the head and ribs, whereas Water was better for the foot. Murdock knew these by instinct and practice.
When he was done, Murdock released Saidin and half fell into the nearest chair with a grunt. No more channelling from him now. “Ouch.” His leg felt swollen, his foot too large for his boot, but he would deal with that later. Too much walking and running did that to him now. "Permission to... not go to any lessons later?"
There was nothing he could do when the Gaidin fell, and again it was the Asha’man who must have done something to intervene. He did go over to see if he could assist in some way but it seemed everything was well in hand, and then the Keeper was channelling another ward. Well. Murdock looked on as Seanchan were thrown unceremoniously away, and he couldn’t help but grin a little at the sight before he remembered that they were still in trouble.
It seemed like a very bad idea to let the Gaidin walk in his current state, but given the look on his face Murdock didn’t think he could stop him even if he wanted to. So he didn’t, letting the man lead the way in the direction of their runaway harlot, Katrie. It was good to have a name other than “serenla” for her. The Gaidin would be okay for now; Murdock would just have to Heal him later when they weren’t in any immediate danger. Let him get to his precious woman first. Fool, if that were Giselle you would be much the same. No denying that. But hey, at least this Accepted wasn’t dead.
He hastened after the Keeper as best he could, though he knew his leg was going to be complaining about this for quite some time. Ignoring it, he crested the rise just in time for an explosion of impressive proportions to accompany the shivering along his arms – he looked on with surprise, dark eyes searching out Katrie rather than the Seanchan. None of them seemed to be moving, which was either a very good or very bad thing. The Gaidin hurried on ahead as the two channellers followed behind, but Murdock’s attention wasn’t on her. She was alive, clearly; he was looking at the two Seanchan channellers. If Katrie was alive, they could be as well.
Not if Murdock had anything to do with it.
He limped his way over as the other three were occupied, getting a good look at the Seanchan woman in the lightning dress. She was flat on her back, burn marks covering her torso, but the slight movement of her chest indicated she was still alive, somehow. Murdock didn’t know a great deal about the Seanchan, and damane and Sul’dam were titles which meant little to him. He knew it was about slaving women channellers and that the collar controlled them, but he wasn’t inclined to let either woman live when they could compromise his safe getaway. Murdock took the polearm in his hand – his stick had sadly not survived the fall, much to his dismay – and turned it so the elaborate pointed end faced downwards. Wordlessly he jammed the end through the woman’s throat, leaning his weight on it and looking into her eyes the whole while. This is what you get for attacking me. Oh, and the Grey Tower and the people in it, but he took it rather personally when people tried to kill him, directly or not.
Interestingly enough the woman on the end of the leash was gasping and choking as if she was the one stabbed in the neck. What a strange turn of events! Murdock watched, powerless to do anything and fascinated regardless, as both of the women died from a single jab of the weapon. At least nobody else there seemed to care what he did. The Keeper was concentrating, probably to do something with the Power, and the Gaidin and runaway Accepted were too caught up giving each other lovey-dovey eyes or whatever to notice anything else going on around them. Murdock limped his way back and silently wished he had more Seanchan to neutralise so he didn’t have to sit and be the third wheel to such shenanigans.
But happily enough the wait came to an end as a Gateway appeared to show a platform. Skimming, ah! Murdock hadn’t done this before but he did know the theory behind it. There was no telling him twice to get in there, though it seemed the Accepted was resisting as much as a weak, injured woman could resist two other men. Murdock left them to it and went in before them, the Gaidin could use the pointy end of his weapon to prod Katrie along if he asked for it but other than that he was staying well out of their way. Light, obstinate woman! Still making it all about her. “Just deal with it,” he grumped at the woman, earning a sharp look from more than one set of eyes. His return look was flat as he stood there and leaned on his new stick.
The journey to Asha’man Jaryd’s old study was quick and quiet, thank the Light. Murdock wanted to ask about the weaves the man had used when they first arrived, other wards which he had never seen before, but now didn’t seem to be a good time. Besides which, Murdock knew he would never be able to replicate them himself. He lacked the strength or the skill with wards. My skills lie elsewhere. Three people, killed by his hand. Two of them were on purpose! This had to be a personal best.
He was glad to be off the platform when they reached the study, though the room they entered looked a little... worn. The inner furniture designer in Murdock would have varnished the wood and replaced a few cushions here and there, but really he was only thinking about what his Da would have said, rather than what he could actually accomplish. At least the second room, which looked to be a main room, was a little nicer. Asha’man Jaryd insisted they go in there instead, probably because it was nicer and a bit less creepy than in here. The last thing Murdock saw on the way through was the large map of the Westlands on the wall, but it meant little to him at this moment. None of this was his business.
Now they were safe though, the two injured people were. “You are both injured and need attention,” he said. A look to Asha’man Jaryd, who gave a curt nod, and he went to inspect them. Katrie was first, and she looked as if she might bat his hands away at first. But maybe she was tired of fighting because in the end she left him to it. Some burns along her arm, a few scratches, and nothing life threatening. As he expected – onto the Gaidin he went, weaving Spirit to see what the problem was.
Well. Now this was more like it. “Asha’man Jaryd, could you possibly Heal the Accepted? I cannot leave these wounds unattended any longer but I will be unable to channel after this.” A serious head injury, more cuts than one man should realistically be able to receive, and no small amount of bruises, not to mention some blood loss. And a fractured couple of ribs. By the Light, Gaidin didn’t know when to quit did they? There was also a hairline fracture in his foot of all places. “How are you even still walking?” he asked the man. “No, don’t answer that. Let me Heal you, you’re one nap away from never waking up again.” Murdock rested his hands, mindless of the blood, on the man’s head. He drew upon all five of the elements to form the most intricate weaves he knew, flows splitting and weaving together with a skill Murdock often forgot he had. The weaves settled into the Gaidin and soothed his injuries away, different types for different areas. Earth dominated the head and ribs, whereas Water was better for the foot. Murdock knew these by instinct and practice.
When he was done, Murdock released Saidin and half fell into the nearest chair with a grunt. No more channelling from him now. “Ouch.” His leg felt swollen, his foot too large for his boot, but he would deal with that later. Too much walking and running did that to him now. "Permission to... not go to any lessons later?"
------ Murdock -------------- Nathaniel --------------- Maever -------
-
Jenn
- "The Path of Daggers"
- Posts: 1086
- Joined: October 12th, 2015, 1:33 am
- PC: Zarius "Zeen" Iiro, the M'Hael
- SC: Afanen "Affie" Vallen, Novice
Re: Uncommon Talents [Attn: Matty]
The ringing in her ears was very very distracting. It kept jerking her away from peacefully drifting in the sea of black.
Something... was touching her face. It kept prodding at her cheeks, moving her head gently from side to side, trailing over the sensitive column of her neck. The weightless oblivion receded farther and farther away. She just wanted to float! Was that too bloody much to ask for? She was tired... so very tired... Katrie let out an aggravated sound, the noise grating over her throat as she tried to turn her face away.
"Katrie!"
Someone...
"Katrie!"
Who?
The throbbing in her head gradually resolved itself into two distinct drum beats. One, thudded and pounded against her skull. The other... from the corner of her mind... insistent, frantic... waves of near paralyzing fear... desperate gold... Her mind stretched out tentatively against the other presence and was promptly... curled around by another awareness... ohLightDax! Brown eyes flew open, rolling around wildly until they latched onto anguished blue.
She gave an abrupt shake of her head, trying to clear out the jarring incessant ringing from sounding in her ears. "Dax..." She couldn't make herself speak in anything more than a whisper. "What..." her voice trailed off. He was hurt. She could feel it. Tears sprang to her eyes.
Her Warder didn't say anything else, maneuvering her up with gentle hands despite his own injuries. Everything... hurt. Katrie was relieved to see Jaryd... and the Dedicated. A slash of silver appeared, rotating open in much the same fashion as a Gateway... only... it led to inky blackness. A... platform of... some kind... floated there. She couldn't help the way she tensed, her stomach dropping.
“Where will that take us?” she asked, not wanting to ask, yet oddly compelled to.
“My old study,” came the Asha'man's soft reply.
Only Dax heard the soft whimper, his arm suddenly coming around her waist. Katrie's eyes swung up to look into his, before they went to Jaryd's, the mute plea evident. She was being propelled towards the platform. By the Gaidin. No... no... please... no... Her mouth was moving, but no sound emerged, her silent litany pounding within the confines of her skull. Don't make me go back... please don't make me go back...
A cage. A leash.
But there were Seanchan nearby.
The tall Accepted felt every bit of Dax's struggle, her lover's internal conflict blaring as loudly as her own, colliding across the bond. He did not relent, pushing her inexorably towards the platform.
“Just deal with it.” Katrie did not look over to the irritated Dedicated, the lanky man already on the platform. Too soon, she was standing next to Limpy, both of Dax's arms wrapped around her waist as if to keep her from straying too close to the crumbling edges of the dusty white cobblestone. Or maybe it was to keep her from bolting back through the rapidly closing hole in reality. It didn't matter...
Sight did not register as she withdrew into herself, her head bowed, her arm throbbing with agony that made it difficult to breathe. She did not look up as they left the platform behind, brown eyes watching her feet again as they crossed into Jaryd's old study.
"You are both injured and need attention." Limpy was hovering near her suddenly and for a brief moment, Katrie wanted to slap away his hands. As their gazes locked, she felt a burst of shame. Limpy was trying to Heal her and she... A soundless sigh. In the end, the pretty Cairhienin went still and did nothing. He moved on to Dax next, and Katrie felt her insides clench reflexively, her worry for her Warder keen and sharp.
“Asha’man Jaryd, could you possibly Heal the Accepted? I cannot leave these wounds unattended any longer but I will be unable to channel after this.”
She did not protest as Jaryd came to stand next to her, his touch gentle. Warmth surged through her, soothing away the pain. The ringing in her ears finally stopped. Katrie glanced down at her arm, exhaustion dulling the edges of her vision. It had been Healed, and was once again burn and blister free. "Thank you," she whispered.
"Serenla."
She tilted her head towards the Asha'man.
"What did you do back there," Jaryd asked her quietly, "how did you create an explosion that large?"
The corners of full lips quirked up. "Given my weak strength, you mean?" Katrie shrugged a little. "I made a ward against eavesdropping and then I improperly unwove it. I didn't try to do it correctly... in fact, I let it fall apart on purpose."
The Asha'man was speechless.
She siged softly as Dax's pain lessened, then faded away entirely... leaving behind only the bitter feel of his grief, guilt, and torment.
“Ouch.” Limpy collapsed into the nearest chair. "Permission to... not go to any lessons later?"
Katrie couldn't help but chuckle a little at that, capsizing in another chair roughly opposite of him. "Thank you," she finally said again, her expression earnest as she looked over at him, "for pushing me out of the way of that fireball."
((OOC: very late, very tired. Excuse any typos, will fix in the morning.))
Something... was touching her face. It kept prodding at her cheeks, moving her head gently from side to side, trailing over the sensitive column of her neck. The weightless oblivion receded farther and farther away. She just wanted to float! Was that too bloody much to ask for? She was tired... so very tired... Katrie let out an aggravated sound, the noise grating over her throat as she tried to turn her face away.
"Katrie!"
Someone...
"Katrie!"
Who?
The throbbing in her head gradually resolved itself into two distinct drum beats. One, thudded and pounded against her skull. The other... from the corner of her mind... insistent, frantic... waves of near paralyzing fear... desperate gold... Her mind stretched out tentatively against the other presence and was promptly... curled around by another awareness... ohLightDax! Brown eyes flew open, rolling around wildly until they latched onto anguished blue.
She gave an abrupt shake of her head, trying to clear out the jarring incessant ringing from sounding in her ears. "Dax..." She couldn't make herself speak in anything more than a whisper. "What..." her voice trailed off. He was hurt. She could feel it. Tears sprang to her eyes.
Her Warder didn't say anything else, maneuvering her up with gentle hands despite his own injuries. Everything... hurt. Katrie was relieved to see Jaryd... and the Dedicated. A slash of silver appeared, rotating open in much the same fashion as a Gateway... only... it led to inky blackness. A... platform of... some kind... floated there. She couldn't help the way she tensed, her stomach dropping.
“Where will that take us?” she asked, not wanting to ask, yet oddly compelled to.
“My old study,” came the Asha'man's soft reply.
Only Dax heard the soft whimper, his arm suddenly coming around her waist. Katrie's eyes swung up to look into his, before they went to Jaryd's, the mute plea evident. She was being propelled towards the platform. By the Gaidin. No... no... please... no... Her mouth was moving, but no sound emerged, her silent litany pounding within the confines of her skull. Don't make me go back... please don't make me go back...
A cage. A leash.
But there were Seanchan nearby.
The tall Accepted felt every bit of Dax's struggle, her lover's internal conflict blaring as loudly as her own, colliding across the bond. He did not relent, pushing her inexorably towards the platform.
“Just deal with it.” Katrie did not look over to the irritated Dedicated, the lanky man already on the platform. Too soon, she was standing next to Limpy, both of Dax's arms wrapped around her waist as if to keep her from straying too close to the crumbling edges of the dusty white cobblestone. Or maybe it was to keep her from bolting back through the rapidly closing hole in reality. It didn't matter...
Sight did not register as she withdrew into herself, her head bowed, her arm throbbing with agony that made it difficult to breathe. She did not look up as they left the platform behind, brown eyes watching her feet again as they crossed into Jaryd's old study.
"You are both injured and need attention." Limpy was hovering near her suddenly and for a brief moment, Katrie wanted to slap away his hands. As their gazes locked, she felt a burst of shame. Limpy was trying to Heal her and she... A soundless sigh. In the end, the pretty Cairhienin went still and did nothing. He moved on to Dax next, and Katrie felt her insides clench reflexively, her worry for her Warder keen and sharp.
“Asha’man Jaryd, could you possibly Heal the Accepted? I cannot leave these wounds unattended any longer but I will be unable to channel after this.”
She did not protest as Jaryd came to stand next to her, his touch gentle. Warmth surged through her, soothing away the pain. The ringing in her ears finally stopped. Katrie glanced down at her arm, exhaustion dulling the edges of her vision. It had been Healed, and was once again burn and blister free. "Thank you," she whispered.
"Serenla."
She tilted her head towards the Asha'man.
"What did you do back there," Jaryd asked her quietly, "how did you create an explosion that large?"
The corners of full lips quirked up. "Given my weak strength, you mean?" Katrie shrugged a little. "I made a ward against eavesdropping and then I improperly unwove it. I didn't try to do it correctly... in fact, I let it fall apart on purpose."
The Asha'man was speechless.
She siged softly as Dax's pain lessened, then faded away entirely... leaving behind only the bitter feel of his grief, guilt, and torment.
“Ouch.” Limpy collapsed into the nearest chair. "Permission to... not go to any lessons later?"
Katrie couldn't help but chuckle a little at that, capsizing in another chair roughly opposite of him. "Thank you," she finally said again, her expression earnest as she looked over at him, "for pushing me out of the way of that fireball."
((OOC: very late, very tired. Excuse any typos, will fix in the morning.))
Jenn's Tracker - come write with me!
"Gravity has a way of humbling a man."
-
Sunny
- "Knife of Dreams"
- Posts: 3757
- Joined: July 18th, 2014, 3:23 am
- PC: Jaryd Kosari
- SC: Dakson Torellion
- TC: Finn
- QC: Owen Andarin
Re: Uncommon Talents [Attn: Matty]
The world felt odd. Dax stared at the tall Dedicated blankly for a long moment before dipping his head in submission. He could not protect Katrie if- chill fire spread through his body, though nothing like the Healing he had received in the past. Physical discomfort melted away, leaving pain of a different sort to seep through Dax’s existence. Katrie had been Healed, but her anger and frustration had been replaced by something else, entirely alien: resignation.
Light, no! He had never felt anything like hopelessness from the Accepted, not even after they had bonded the first time. He reached for her with his mind, but for the first time he had no idea how to comfort his wife. He had forced her through that gate. He had made her return, knowing what it would mean for both of them. I am a blademaster. Surely I could have protected her. Against an army? Probably not, but knowing that did not heal the damage he had done.
The Dedicated had said something. Jaryd arched an eyebrow and laughed, although his dark eyes remained cold and distant. “Certainly,” the Keeper said. “You’ve just channeled enough for any Asha’man- you will need days to recover. Pay a visit to the Infirmary as well, once we’re above ground. I would like to know you are healthy.”
Jaryd paused, his gaze meeting each of theirs in turn. “Say nothing about what we encountered today,” he said quietly. “Tell anyone who asks that we were accosted by bandits. News of Seanchan in Andor must be controlled until we have had a chance to investigate and plan.” Dax’s teeth clenched together, and he turned away from the Altaran. Scheming, always scheming. He had felt that mind working once upon a time, knew it never stopped. How did the man live with himself?
A few minutes later they were led from the study, and Dax fell into step just behind Katrie and Murdock. Jaryd stayed at the front of their small group, walking slowly and yet somehow also vibrating with energy, his expressive hands twitching and shifting with thoughts and emotions that did not show on his face. “Katrie, you had quite a lot to say on the subject of my Ajah earlier,” the slender man in red commented irritably. Dax tensed, and Katrie shook her head ever so slightly, although her mind remained mired in hopelessness that tore at his heart. “Allow me the privilege of addressing your accusations before you meet with Mirin Sedai.”
Jaryd’s fingers jerked to the side and the door ahead of them flew open, rebounding off the wall with a crash. “The Red Ajah was formed to hunt down those who abuse their power for their personal gain," the Asha'man continued as they passed through the door into another corridor. “Due to the nature of what we face, we fight fire with fire. One cannot face the Seanchan,” his voice shook, “without channeling to kill, for instance.”
Dax tilted his head, but before he could say anything the Red continued, his words a relentless torrent. “The Red Ajah exists to fight things like that. The Seanchan slaughter their male channelers and collar the female channelers. Why? If you ask them, they’ll tell you that channelers can’t be trusted and must be controlled, that the men are doomed to madness and must be put down. Like animals! The truth, however, is that their entire government depends on those women in gray. Without the strength of the One Power at their fingertips, their great empire would crumble. That’s all their Empress really cares about- her power.”
Jaryd paused once they reached the top of the stairs that led to the main floor of the Tower, allowing them to catch up and gather around him. “The problem is that by fighting these enemies with their own weapons, my Ajah risks becoming the very thing we fight against. Every decision we make, every action we take, every word we speak must be examined and evaluated to ensure we are acting for the good of all, not merely to satisfy our own personal thoughts and bias. We walk a razor’s edge.”
Jaryd started walking again, but even his sudden movement didn’t hide his misery from Dax. A tendril of sympathy crept through the Gaidin’s mind, but before it could fully form, Katrie’s presence surged, and Dax wrapped his mind around her protectively.
“I try to counter the chaos I wreak by helping people who cannot help themselves. I endeavor to build their strengths and to guide them to where they have the greatest chance of happiness and success,” Jaryd continued. “I have a particularly lenient view of Tower Law when it comes to those efforts, but even I must abide by its directives under certain circumstances or I risk losing the very platform by which I am capable of doing the most good.”
They had reached the central chamber of the Grey Tower; the Red paused, looking around. “Dax, will you please ensure Murdock gets to the infirmary safely?” He said quietly. “He is quite tired, and I am concerned for his wellbeing.”
Panic surged, and Dax’s eyes flew to Katrie. He had thought....somehow, despite it all, that they would have a moment to themselves. What happens next? When will I see you again? When will I touch you again? How long will it be before we can be together without hiding? As he stared into his wife’s eyes and felt her panic rise, the sympathy he had felt for the Keeper died, replaced with cold, hard, anger. “As you say, Asha’man,” he said woodenly. Inside his mind he gathered all the love he felt for the slender Accepted, all the hope and joy and peace she had built within him, and pushed them toward her, wrapping her in golden light. “You know where to find me when you return, Aikaterine,” he added softly. “I wish you luck.”
The Tairen turned to the Dedicated then. “Shall we? You look like something the tide washed in. Perhaps the Yellow Ajah and a nap can perk you up a bit."
Light, no! He had never felt anything like hopelessness from the Accepted, not even after they had bonded the first time. He reached for her with his mind, but for the first time he had no idea how to comfort his wife. He had forced her through that gate. He had made her return, knowing what it would mean for both of them. I am a blademaster. Surely I could have protected her. Against an army? Probably not, but knowing that did not heal the damage he had done.
The Dedicated had said something. Jaryd arched an eyebrow and laughed, although his dark eyes remained cold and distant. “Certainly,” the Keeper said. “You’ve just channeled enough for any Asha’man- you will need days to recover. Pay a visit to the Infirmary as well, once we’re above ground. I would like to know you are healthy.”
Jaryd paused, his gaze meeting each of theirs in turn. “Say nothing about what we encountered today,” he said quietly. “Tell anyone who asks that we were accosted by bandits. News of Seanchan in Andor must be controlled until we have had a chance to investigate and plan.” Dax’s teeth clenched together, and he turned away from the Altaran. Scheming, always scheming. He had felt that mind working once upon a time, knew it never stopped. How did the man live with himself?
A few minutes later they were led from the study, and Dax fell into step just behind Katrie and Murdock. Jaryd stayed at the front of their small group, walking slowly and yet somehow also vibrating with energy, his expressive hands twitching and shifting with thoughts and emotions that did not show on his face. “Katrie, you had quite a lot to say on the subject of my Ajah earlier,” the slender man in red commented irritably. Dax tensed, and Katrie shook her head ever so slightly, although her mind remained mired in hopelessness that tore at his heart. “Allow me the privilege of addressing your accusations before you meet with Mirin Sedai.”
Jaryd’s fingers jerked to the side and the door ahead of them flew open, rebounding off the wall with a crash. “The Red Ajah was formed to hunt down those who abuse their power for their personal gain," the Asha'man continued as they passed through the door into another corridor. “Due to the nature of what we face, we fight fire with fire. One cannot face the Seanchan,” his voice shook, “without channeling to kill, for instance.”
Dax tilted his head, but before he could say anything the Red continued, his words a relentless torrent. “The Red Ajah exists to fight things like that. The Seanchan slaughter their male channelers and collar the female channelers. Why? If you ask them, they’ll tell you that channelers can’t be trusted and must be controlled, that the men are doomed to madness and must be put down. Like animals! The truth, however, is that their entire government depends on those women in gray. Without the strength of the One Power at their fingertips, their great empire would crumble. That’s all their Empress really cares about- her power.”
Jaryd paused once they reached the top of the stairs that led to the main floor of the Tower, allowing them to catch up and gather around him. “The problem is that by fighting these enemies with their own weapons, my Ajah risks becoming the very thing we fight against. Every decision we make, every action we take, every word we speak must be examined and evaluated to ensure we are acting for the good of all, not merely to satisfy our own personal thoughts and bias. We walk a razor’s edge.”
Jaryd started walking again, but even his sudden movement didn’t hide his misery from Dax. A tendril of sympathy crept through the Gaidin’s mind, but before it could fully form, Katrie’s presence surged, and Dax wrapped his mind around her protectively.
“I try to counter the chaos I wreak by helping people who cannot help themselves. I endeavor to build their strengths and to guide them to where they have the greatest chance of happiness and success,” Jaryd continued. “I have a particularly lenient view of Tower Law when it comes to those efforts, but even I must abide by its directives under certain circumstances or I risk losing the very platform by which I am capable of doing the most good.”
They had reached the central chamber of the Grey Tower; the Red paused, looking around. “Dax, will you please ensure Murdock gets to the infirmary safely?” He said quietly. “He is quite tired, and I am concerned for his wellbeing.”
Panic surged, and Dax’s eyes flew to Katrie. He had thought....somehow, despite it all, that they would have a moment to themselves. What happens next? When will I see you again? When will I touch you again? How long will it be before we can be together without hiding? As he stared into his wife’s eyes and felt her panic rise, the sympathy he had felt for the Keeper died, replaced with cold, hard, anger. “As you say, Asha’man,” he said woodenly. Inside his mind he gathered all the love he felt for the slender Accepted, all the hope and joy and peace she had built within him, and pushed them toward her, wrapping her in golden light. “You know where to find me when you return, Aikaterine,” he added softly. “I wish you luck.”
The Tairen turned to the Dedicated then. “Shall we? You look like something the tide washed in. Perhaps the Yellow Ajah and a nap can perk you up a bit."
False alarm- there's still a song for me; I'm just about around to sing it
There's still a chance for me...and I'm still here singing.
-
Jenn
- "The Path of Daggers"
- Posts: 1086
- Joined: October 12th, 2015, 1:33 am
- PC: Zarius "Zeen" Iiro, the M'Hael
- SC: Afanen "Affie" Vallen, Novice
Re: Uncommon Talents [Attn: Matty]
Katrie
"Wait!" The word blurted out of her mouth before she could stop herself. "Please," she added hastily, ducking her head in a show of humility she did not actually feel. They were back beneath the yoke of the Tower again. She... was merely an Accepted here and Dax, a Gaidin. Katrie pulled in a sharp breath and tried to keep too much from showing on her face as she looked up again.
"I... you should have this back." Her voice shook, as did the slender coppery hands that went to unclasp the small buckle around her waist. "Dakson Gaidin, thank you for lending me your spare." She pushed her belt pouch against her husband's chest, not giving him any time to protest. Several seconds passed and his hands finally closed around worn leather, perfect blue holding boundless sable, the bond alive with golden glory.
The moment ended as Katrie dropped into a curtsey, a spike of mute dismay coming at the obeisance. She stretched out through the invisible connection that joined them, brushing against his mind. Relief. Love. Guilt. Remorse. Anger. She felt the exact moment that Dax had to turn his attention away, the Tairen speaking quietly to the Dedicated - Murdock. Mudrock. Limpy. It was good to have an actual name, she supposed...
Her hands balled into fists so she wouldn't reach out to stop Dax from leaving. She knew he would... if she touched him... You know where to find me when you return, Aikaterine. I wish you luck. She followed her lover with her mind, starting out in the direction that he had gone long after Dax had disappeared from sight. He called me by my full name. He had never done that before.
"We should get you changed before I bring you to Mirin Sedai."
The Accepted flinched visibly at the sound of the Keeper's voice. She squeezed her eyes closed for a moment, Katrie fighting down a sudden wave of nausea as the realization that she was alone rolled over her. It was... it felt wrong that Dax wasn't nearby. I didn't even get to say... goodbye. Brown eyes swung towards the Asha'man, normally expressive orbs flat and dull. "You didn't even let me say goodbye," she whispered quietly, so quietly that it barely reached her own ears. It didn't matter if Jaryd heard her or not.
The tall Cairhienin staggered into motion; if she spent one more second standing there, she was going to start screaming. As she traversed towards... she supposed it was still her room, she ignored the furtive looks, the poorly hidden stares, the expressions of outright disapproval, the Asha'man's presence next to her stopping even those with ageless faces from accosting her.
Her room was exactly as she had left it.
Jaryd did not permit her to close her door, instead blocking off the doorway facing outwards. Katrie gave a little shake of her head. She wasn't going to flee... She was so drained she could barely channel enough to fill a thimble, much less use that thimble full of saidar to make a Gateway. Even if she somehow could, she wasn't as foolish as to think that the Red would simply let her; as soon as he sensed her embracing, he was likely to Shield her and deliver her to Mirin all tidy and wrapped up: a runaway Accepted parcel.
Soon, she was once again clad in the banded white sack that passed for a dress, her hair brushed and plaited neatly down her back. Her bottom lip quavered as she shoved her feet into a pair of white slippers, leaving her travel worn clothing and shoes wherever they happened to fall. She ran gentle fingers over the ragged mangled grey dress, noting the stains of red that mingled with the charred edges of the fabric. I stole this dress... I suppose I'll get in trouble for that too. That random thought was tinged with hysterical amusement.
She cleared her throat, letting Jaryd know that she was 'properly attired' once again. As they made their way inexorably towards Mirin, she stayed silent, the normally animated coppery face devoid of any and all expression.
"Serenla -"
Katrie shook her head abruptly, having to forcefully clamp down to keep her emotions from simply fraying apart. She could not - would not shed any tears in front of the Asha'man or the Mistress of Novices. The tall Cairhienin refused to. "Don't. Just... please don't." She wasn't able to make herself look at him, so her eyes fixed on a point just past his shoulder instead. "I know you saved my life... and Dakson Gaidin's life..." - on the off chance that there were those who were listening in too closely - "I am grateful that you did. But..." and here was where her voice dropped abruptly into a hoarse whisper, hot pain lancing through her chest as her words somehow gave strength to her emotions... made everything that had just happened... real. "But at the same time... I also hate you."
Full lips thinned, and she made a helpless gesture with her hands, her eyes going to the office door. "I know you were trying to help. But I didn't need you to try and build my strengths or have you try and guide me to where you thought I had the greatest chance of happiness and success. And even if I did... what gives you the right? Because you're such a strong channeler? Because you're a Red? You meddle and you scheme worse than...oh bloody Light, it doesn't even matter anymore." Katrie sighed softly, the fire suddenly leeching out of her. Her head rocked from side to side as her shoulders slumped. She lifted her hand up and knocked sharply. "I apologize for my inappropriate words, Asha'man. I will be sure to mention it to Mirin Sedai."
((OOC: Katrie's part in this is concluded and continues on here.))"I... you should have this back." Her voice shook, as did the slender coppery hands that went to unclasp the small buckle around her waist. "Dakson Gaidin, thank you for lending me your spare." She pushed her belt pouch against her husband's chest, not giving him any time to protest. Several seconds passed and his hands finally closed around worn leather, perfect blue holding boundless sable, the bond alive with golden glory.
The moment ended as Katrie dropped into a curtsey, a spike of mute dismay coming at the obeisance. She stretched out through the invisible connection that joined them, brushing against his mind. Relief. Love. Guilt. Remorse. Anger. She felt the exact moment that Dax had to turn his attention away, the Tairen speaking quietly to the Dedicated - Murdock. Mudrock. Limpy. It was good to have an actual name, she supposed...
Her hands balled into fists so she wouldn't reach out to stop Dax from leaving. She knew he would... if she touched him... You know where to find me when you return, Aikaterine. I wish you luck. She followed her lover with her mind, starting out in the direction that he had gone long after Dax had disappeared from sight. He called me by my full name. He had never done that before.
"We should get you changed before I bring you to Mirin Sedai."
The Accepted flinched visibly at the sound of the Keeper's voice. She squeezed her eyes closed for a moment, Katrie fighting down a sudden wave of nausea as the realization that she was alone rolled over her. It was... it felt wrong that Dax wasn't nearby. I didn't even get to say... goodbye. Brown eyes swung towards the Asha'man, normally expressive orbs flat and dull. "You didn't even let me say goodbye," she whispered quietly, so quietly that it barely reached her own ears. It didn't matter if Jaryd heard her or not.
The tall Cairhienin staggered into motion; if she spent one more second standing there, she was going to start screaming. As she traversed towards... she supposed it was still her room, she ignored the furtive looks, the poorly hidden stares, the expressions of outright disapproval, the Asha'man's presence next to her stopping even those with ageless faces from accosting her.
Her room was exactly as she had left it.
Jaryd did not permit her to close her door, instead blocking off the doorway facing outwards. Katrie gave a little shake of her head. She wasn't going to flee... She was so drained she could barely channel enough to fill a thimble, much less use that thimble full of saidar to make a Gateway. Even if she somehow could, she wasn't as foolish as to think that the Red would simply let her; as soon as he sensed her embracing, he was likely to Shield her and deliver her to Mirin all tidy and wrapped up: a runaway Accepted parcel.
Soon, she was once again clad in the banded white sack that passed for a dress, her hair brushed and plaited neatly down her back. Her bottom lip quavered as she shoved her feet into a pair of white slippers, leaving her travel worn clothing and shoes wherever they happened to fall. She ran gentle fingers over the ragged mangled grey dress, noting the stains of red that mingled with the charred edges of the fabric. I stole this dress... I suppose I'll get in trouble for that too. That random thought was tinged with hysterical amusement.
She cleared her throat, letting Jaryd know that she was 'properly attired' once again. As they made their way inexorably towards Mirin, she stayed silent, the normally animated coppery face devoid of any and all expression.
"Serenla -"
Katrie shook her head abruptly, having to forcefully clamp down to keep her emotions from simply fraying apart. She could not - would not shed any tears in front of the Asha'man or the Mistress of Novices. The tall Cairhienin refused to. "Don't. Just... please don't." She wasn't able to make herself look at him, so her eyes fixed on a point just past his shoulder instead. "I know you saved my life... and Dakson Gaidin's life..." - on the off chance that there were those who were listening in too closely - "I am grateful that you did. But..." and here was where her voice dropped abruptly into a hoarse whisper, hot pain lancing through her chest as her words somehow gave strength to her emotions... made everything that had just happened... real. "But at the same time... I also hate you."
Full lips thinned, and she made a helpless gesture with her hands, her eyes going to the office door. "I know you were trying to help. But I didn't need you to try and build my strengths or have you try and guide me to where you thought I had the greatest chance of happiness and success. And even if I did... what gives you the right? Because you're such a strong channeler? Because you're a Red? You meddle and you scheme worse than...oh bloody Light, it doesn't even matter anymore." Katrie sighed softly, the fire suddenly leeching out of her. Her head rocked from side to side as her shoulders slumped. She lifted her hand up and knocked sharply. "I apologize for my inappropriate words, Asha'man. I will be sure to mention it to Mirin Sedai."
Jenn's Tracker - come write with me!
"Gravity has a way of humbling a man."
-
Matty
- "The Path of Daggers"
- Posts: 964
- Joined: December 16th, 2015, 8:19 pm
- PC: Murdock Mather, Keeper of the Archives
- SC: Nathaniel Carridus, Asha'man (Blue)
- TC: Maever Donovan, Asha'man (Yellow)
- Location: Plain of Lances, UK
Re: Uncommon Talents [Attn: Matty]
Murdock hadn’t been expecting thanks, because what he did when he pushed the woman out of the way of the fireball wasn’t exceptional behaviour. To his eyes it was simply standard procedure to protect people from a fiery death, and she hadn’t noticed it herself. He did appreciate the thanks he got though, going a little red in the cheeks and nodding to show he’d heard her. “It’s alright,” he said in his gentle, quiet voice, traces of a smile touching his lips. He didn’t comment on the mutterings that took place between Asha’man Jaryd and his little serenla, they really were none of his concern. Try as he might, he wanted to know nothing, and yet they insisted on having these awkward conversations near him. Unravelling a weave of any kind was dangerous business, any trainee knew that, so the explosion they had seen was a byproduct of this reckless behaviour. Light! Murdock didn’t want to die thank you very much, and there was a complete lack of finesse that came with Unravelling that he had no desire to ever try and understand.
Glad he could take a bit of time to recover, Murdock thanked the Red Keeper. He could visit the Infirmary, and make sure he was fine, but honestly apart from some bruises and a couple of small cuts, he only really suffered from exhaustion thanks to channelling a lot. As much as he didn’t like lying about where they had been or what they had done, he supposed he could see the sense in it so he nodded at the man’s orders. No need to make his life unnecessarily difficult if he didn’t have to.
They left the office and entered the corridors of the Red Ajah. Apparently the Keeper had something to say on the matter thanks to Katrie’s babblings previously, so now they were going to be given The Ajah Talk. Light. Murdock was tired of these discussions. The Yellows were of course all about Healing and helping people, which Murdock supposed he could do, but the other Ajahs had their own opinions as well. Having not made any clear decision, most of them were still open to him – apart from the Green Ajah, who had seen his battle weaves and took in his laconic temperament before deciding their resources were better spent elsewhere. Murdock wasn’t on a suicide mission, so that suited him just fine. He limped along behind the group and let the Keeper have his little rant about the Red Ajah, which sounded quite similar to the Greens in his mind. At the same time though, he understood that they weren’t the Greens. The Reds were a force to be reckoned with in their own right, taking down abusers of power with only a passing glance at protocol and rules.
Could I do that? the tall man pondered, eyeing the curly haired man as they walked. Take down abusers of Saidin and Saidar?.... no. He wanted to show the Black Tower the mistake they made when they killed his wife, but outside of that he had little interest in getting his hands dirty for other people’s causes, or for “what was right”. It was all a bit risky sounding to him and honestly, Murdock didn’t want to go walking a lot when his offensive weaves were lacklustre and his obligations tenuous at best. At this rate I’ll never be Raised. What do I even want? He would have plenty of time to ponder over this, because apparently now he was going to the Infirmary.
The Tairen Warder looked up at him then and Murdock pulled a face without helping it. He didn’t look that bad, did he? A bit of blood and dirt, nothing more. But he was leaning on his new walking stick quite heavily and as soon as he had a bed he would probably sleep for quite some time. “You look like something the tide washed in, then out, then in again,” he muttered, because that head injury had been pretty bloody awful. He limped along with the man though, “don’t worry about me, I will be right as rain.” He wasn’t the one having a crisis about leaving the love of his life behind or whatever these people had going on for them. Light, if he ever saw these people together again, he was walking the other way. I have no time for this drama. “Light shine on you, Keeper Jaryd. I’ll let you know how I fare in the Infirmary.” He had no comment for the Accepted, she was just some trainee runaway and any more talking might run the risk of her getting mouthy with him instead. She was no serenla of his, the Keeper could deal with her and any articles of clothing she decided to give away next. Honestly, if any other girl acted like this around an Asha’man she wouldn’t have gotten away with it, this odd brand of favouritism did not sit well with the Dedicated.
“Lead the way Sir,” he said to the Gaidin, letting him walk him to the Infirmary to get the Healing and rest he didn’t need, but quite wanted.
Glad he could take a bit of time to recover, Murdock thanked the Red Keeper. He could visit the Infirmary, and make sure he was fine, but honestly apart from some bruises and a couple of small cuts, he only really suffered from exhaustion thanks to channelling a lot. As much as he didn’t like lying about where they had been or what they had done, he supposed he could see the sense in it so he nodded at the man’s orders. No need to make his life unnecessarily difficult if he didn’t have to.
They left the office and entered the corridors of the Red Ajah. Apparently the Keeper had something to say on the matter thanks to Katrie’s babblings previously, so now they were going to be given The Ajah Talk. Light. Murdock was tired of these discussions. The Yellows were of course all about Healing and helping people, which Murdock supposed he could do, but the other Ajahs had their own opinions as well. Having not made any clear decision, most of them were still open to him – apart from the Green Ajah, who had seen his battle weaves and took in his laconic temperament before deciding their resources were better spent elsewhere. Murdock wasn’t on a suicide mission, so that suited him just fine. He limped along behind the group and let the Keeper have his little rant about the Red Ajah, which sounded quite similar to the Greens in his mind. At the same time though, he understood that they weren’t the Greens. The Reds were a force to be reckoned with in their own right, taking down abusers of power with only a passing glance at protocol and rules.
Could I do that? the tall man pondered, eyeing the curly haired man as they walked. Take down abusers of Saidin and Saidar?.... no. He wanted to show the Black Tower the mistake they made when they killed his wife, but outside of that he had little interest in getting his hands dirty for other people’s causes, or for “what was right”. It was all a bit risky sounding to him and honestly, Murdock didn’t want to go walking a lot when his offensive weaves were lacklustre and his obligations tenuous at best. At this rate I’ll never be Raised. What do I even want? He would have plenty of time to ponder over this, because apparently now he was going to the Infirmary.
The Tairen Warder looked up at him then and Murdock pulled a face without helping it. He didn’t look that bad, did he? A bit of blood and dirt, nothing more. But he was leaning on his new walking stick quite heavily and as soon as he had a bed he would probably sleep for quite some time. “You look like something the tide washed in, then out, then in again,” he muttered, because that head injury had been pretty bloody awful. He limped along with the man though, “don’t worry about me, I will be right as rain.” He wasn’t the one having a crisis about leaving the love of his life behind or whatever these people had going on for them. Light, if he ever saw these people together again, he was walking the other way. I have no time for this drama. “Light shine on you, Keeper Jaryd. I’ll let you know how I fare in the Infirmary.” He had no comment for the Accepted, she was just some trainee runaway and any more talking might run the risk of her getting mouthy with him instead. She was no serenla of his, the Keeper could deal with her and any articles of clothing she decided to give away next. Honestly, if any other girl acted like this around an Asha’man she wouldn’t have gotten away with it, this odd brand of favouritism did not sit well with the Dedicated.
“Lead the way Sir,” he said to the Gaidin, letting him walk him to the Infirmary to get the Healing and rest he didn’t need, but quite wanted.
------ Murdock -------------- Nathaniel --------------- Maever -------
meble kuchenne na wymiar cennik
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