Uncommon Talents [Attn: Matty]

The World outside the Grey Tower is a vast place.
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Uncommon Talents [Attn: Matty]

Post by Sunny » March 22nd, 2016, 7:28 am

((This follows Paint the Sky with Stars))
Jaryd Kosari
“He has been spending a lot of time alone, and that concerns you.” Jaryd sat in the single chair that faced Soti’s desk, purposely ignoring the other Asha’man’s annoyance at his casual demeanor. “He does seem to be the quiet sort, doesn't he?” The Master of Soldiers made a sound that might have been pejorative or might have been agreement, and Jaryd shook his head with a smile. “You cannot tell me you are concerned about a student’s isolation and then criticize me for adding my own observations,” he said calmly.

“He needs to be present,” Soti said shortly. “He’s Dedicated now, not a soldier, and there are expectations to be met. He has a fair gift at Healing that we cannot afford to lose simply because the boy prefers sulking over studying.” Or perhaps the “boy” simply had much to think on; Jaryd could certainly understand that.

“What, exactly, do you want me to do about it?” Jaryd asked. He pulled Watari from her sheathe and his gaze dropped to his hands as he ran the tip of that curved blade beneath his thumb nail. From the corner of his eye he saw Soti’s jaw flex, and hid a smile. Unless I have earned penance and you are assigned to give it, I owe you nothing but barest courtesy, he thought. So get to the point, my friend.

After a long pause in which the Green clearly looked for the proper words, he spoke again. “Shake him out of his shell,” Soti said. “You are uncommonly good at making people uncomfortable. Why don’t you direct that….particular talent….at someone who needs it for once?”

The Red laughed, sheathing his knife with a click. “Only if I do it on my terms,” he said, black eyes sparkling.

“Whatever.”

----

Jaryd found Murdock sitting along in the Gardens, and watched him quietly for a few minutes.. He knew the Dedicated had seen him -or should have, anyway- but the man didn’t so much as twitch. Finally the Red approached. “Murdock Mather?” He asked. The dark-haired man nodded.

“I have need of a traveling companion who can Heal, but the Tower cannot spare an Aes Sedai or Asha’man for this task.” Mostly because he hadn’t asked them. “However, I have been told that you have a particular Talent in that area.” No lies…..but very little truth, either. How I hate the Oaths. “I would appreciate your assistance in this matter, if you have nothing more pressing to do.” In the language of the Tower, the request was as good as an order.
OOC: He's planning on leaving in the morning. You can take it as far as you want. ^^
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Re: Uncommon Talents [Attn: Matty]

Post by Matty » March 22nd, 2016, 1:46 pm

There was very little regularity to the stimulation Murdock endured at the Grey Tower. There would be times where his life was nothing but chores and training with barely enough time for morbid reflections, reserved only for those occasions where he channelled and was given a brief enough respite to get a good look at Giselle. On the other hand there were those strange instances where suddenly something unexpected was thrown his way - an eclectic Yellow in need of someone to trail around the world with him, or a chance meeting in Hama Valon with some of his peers who he might otherwise have no contact with whatsoever.

There was no time to really recover from this kinks in his pattern, but Murdock had the luxury of being a Dedicated, so opportunities did arise. For this reason, he spent much of his time in solitude, reflecting on everything that was (or wasn't) happening to him, and what Giselle would make of this whole scenario. He would have needed this time to himself whether or not the Grey Tower kept throwing these curveballs his way, and he lacked the tolerance or appreciation for the boys who passed as men here to get any tangible benefit from spending his time with them. For this reason, he had no real friends, but he didn't feel the absence. Murdock was a solitary man, this was nothing new.

This is why he sat alone when Asha'man Jaryd found him. He was sitting on the grass, long legs sprawled and his walking stick by his side, looking ahead at the world before him but not really seeing it. No, in his mind he was with Giselle, watched the curve of her hips as she turned in a dark blue dress, asking what he thought of it. "Beautiful, as always," was his usual answer.

The interruption took him by surprise, and it was certainly not welcomed either. But Murdock was well conditioned, and upon the Asha'man's approach he was on his feet (unsteadily) and delivering a sharp salute to the shorter man (much more crisp than his standing). Whatever Murdock's needs and wants were, they were secondary to the demands of an Asha'man or Aes Sedai. If that particular Asha'man also happened to be in a position of high authority in the White Tower, well, Murdock had to be even more careful that he didn't upset anyone. The last thing he needed was to irritate the curly-haired man before he even knew what he wanted.

He recognised the order for what it was. The man could pose it as a request but Murdock had been around the Grey Tower long enough to know when he was being summoned for a task, whether he was busy or not. Murdock's desire to help, or not, was irrelevant, but as it so happened the Dedicated was not only surprised, but actually a little pleased that someone was desperate enough that they needed his Healing expertise. "I'll do what I can to help, sir," he said in his usual quiet voice, low and mellow. As ever he was given nothing to go by, no concrete information to work with, but Murdock no longer expected it and, honestly, his curiosity was not such that he would try to find anything out before time. What was the point?

The plan was to leave the next day, and the instructions given were familiar to Murdock by now. The things to take, whether or not he should bring a uniform, what time to meet at the Travelling grounds. It was just another lesson to Murdock, nothing big and exciting. It ought to have been. It should have thrilled him, but instead he simply accepted it for what it was, and dully supposed that it would be a break from his usual business.

So it was a well rested Murdock who stood at the Travelling grounds the next morning waiting for Asha'man Jaryd, his tall figure leaning against a nearby tree to give his leg a bit of rest before the day ahead. He'd slept well the night before because there wasn't enough excitement or nerves to faze him at all, What a lovely, dull way to live, with his preoccupations of the past blanketing his current role as a Dedicated of the Black Tower. The Yellows would have a field day with him if he tried to explain, so Murdock never bothered.

He was early, as he so often was for such things, and he took the time to try and work out how any other Dedicated might feel about being asked to head out with the Keeper of the Archives on some sort of unknown escapades. They'd probably appreciate it more than he did, but he was here and not them so they would simply have to look on and be a little jealous at the freedom Murdock was being afforded, or something.
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------ Murdock -------------- Nathaniel --------------- Maever -------

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Re: Uncommon Talents [Attn: Matty]

Post by Sunny » March 28th, 2016, 6:06 am

Jaryd absently tore a honey bun into pieces as he scanned the report he had received from Deachal Green. It seemed the Andoran village suffered from illness, and the Mayor suspected foul play. What the Asha'man could not determine was why they had contacted the Grey Tower instead of their local governing body. Did they think House Mantear had something to do with their sorry state? Possibly...or perhaps they hope the Tower might provide Healing so their men can get the harvest taken care of. It was the sort of thing Jaryd would normally have redirected to the Yellow Ajah and forgotten about. However, it had happened across his desk at the exact right moment, and now he and Murdock would have the dubious pleasure of answering the village's call.

Glancing up, he saw the clock and realized how much time he had wasted reading a piece of paper he had already memorized. He snorted to himself and pushed the ruined honeycake away as he stood. Then he grabbed his pack off the chair by the door. He and Kaia had already bid their farewells earlier; now he had only to make his way to the Traveling Yards.

The walk passed quickly enough, and he arrived at the Yard only a few minutes after the time he had told Murdock to meet him. The much taller Dedicated had already arrived, he saw, and leaned against a tree with a pack at his feet. He seemed preoccupied, as he always did, but that did not stop him from greeting Jaryd in the same respectful fashion he had the day before. Jaryd smiled slightly, and nodded in greeting. What a puzzle of a man.

His eyes were considering as he looked the man over. It was possible Murdock already knew how to Travel; Jaryd had heard something about an odd journey with Seth, after all. Howeer, the Yellow was not specifically known for being coherent in his teaching practices, and Traveling was a good skill for anyone to have. Therefore he wove slowly and carefully, aware that the Dedicated could see all he did. "I do not know if you have been taught to Travel yet," he said simply. "In case you have not: you must know the place you are departing from extremely well, and then you....bore a hole....to the place you wish to go. Like so." He finished the weaves, and silver light flared and rotated open, to a sunkissed green field. "The size of your gateways will depend on your strength and Talent, but...the process is the same regardless."

He stepped through, and waited for the other man to join him before releasing the flows. "We are going to a village called Deachal Green," Jaryd said, turning east. "It's about a half hour walk from here. We can rest when we need to, simply tell me." As they walked, the Asha'man explained what he knew.

---

OOC: This village exists purely as a place for them to meet Dax and Katrie, because it makes no sense for those two to be as far north as I want them to be when things go boom. :P Jaryd will get news and drag them all away in a bit.

In the mean time if you want to get your Healing and/or accidentally on purpose Rending on, feel free?
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Matty
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Re: Uncommon Talents [Attn: Matty]

Post by Matty » March 29th, 2016, 9:09 pm

Murdock had no real reaction to the Asha’man looking him over. Those dark eyes could bore into Murdock all they pleased, there would be nothing interesting to find here. Murdock was a dark fish in a nighttime river, a shadow of a shadow that slipped on by almost without notice. Even when your eyes were on it there wasn’t a great deal to get a look at.

“I have not been shown Travelling.” Perhaps they thought he would use the knowledge to leave the Grey Tower, which... was actually quite reasonable of them. Still, that didn’t prevent the Dedicated from paying attention to the way Asha’man Jaryd formed the weaves. It was a simple explanation and seeing the weaves in action did make a lot of sense to the man, but in all honesty if it wasn’t Healing then he never picked it up on the first try. He would have to watch and observe several more times first, but there was no pressing rush to learn that Murdock was aware of. Where would he go exactly?

Through the Gateway Murdock went, limping along and leaning on his stick. He wasn’t as slow as he used to be, being rather used to the pain by now. He gave a brief look around, but nothing as wide-eyed as a green Soldier would have, and not as thoroughly as an Asha’man or a Warder either. “Deachal Green,” he repeated, testing the name on his tongue. How very Andoran. He listened to the Red Asha’man’s explanation of the situation with his usual grave expression, nodding to show he understood what he was hearing. A village with questionable illnesses was not a concern of Murdock’s, he could Heal what was wrong and then move on easily enough. The source of the problem was not going to be immediately apparent, and Murdock would see if he could learn anything if he was allowed to Heal their injuries, but if there was someone making these people ill on purpose then this was more of the Red Ajah’s business to tend to, not the Yellows. And are you a member of the Yellow Ajah Murdock, you fool? No. Do as you are told.

Into the village they went, by which time Murdock’s leg was protesting most irritatingly. Still, there was some satisfaction to be gained from the way a rotund fellow bustled his way over to them, the chain around his neck signifying he was the Mayor of this place. A man in authority, how unusual! Murdock stood back and let the man make his words to Asha’man Jaryd, who was more familiar with what was going on here. Only when the discussion of Healing came about – the Mayor looking hopefully Asha’man Jaryd’s way, hands clasped together in front of his belly – did Murdock step forwards. “Show me your most ill and I will do what I can for them,” he said, straight to the point. The bald headed Mayor nodded and gestured to the other side of the village. Murdock fell into step with him, Asha’man Jaryd trailing along for the time being as well.

“They are being kept in one of the barns,” the Mayor said as he walked. “We are trying to keep the illness contained.” There was something in his tone that said he suspected something more, though he said nothing for the time being. Murdock did not choose to pry further.

“I will Heal those I can and see if I can discern the cause,” he informed both the Mayor and his Asha’man supervisor. It was the best he could do.

-

And that was how the Dedicated found himself alone in a room of ill... men, mostly. How very strange. The tall man was only given a brief introduction by the Mayor before he and Asha’man Jaryd left him to perform his Healing, so he took his time to gauge his surroundings now. The barn was used to store bales of hay, which at the moment were strategically placed to make small, semi-private rooms for the ill to lie down in. They were covered in sweat, shivering, and some were slightly off colour. Not the most obvious of illnesses to identify, so Murdock eased himself onto his knees by the first man he came across, and seized Saidin. Giselle kneeled on the other side of the man, giving Murdock an encouraging look. “I am Dedicated Murdock and I am here to Heal you,” he said. “You will feel a rush of warmth as I Delve you to see what the matter is.”

The man only nodded his head, or maybe he was just shivering? Ah well, easier to ask forgiveness than permission, right? Murdock used Fire, Spirit and Earth to see what the matter was, and when he pulled his hands back a moment later it was with a politely puzzled expression. A cold fever, excessive sweating, and a peculiar tainting of the stomach and liver. Up close, the man had skin of a mouldy apple. “I don’t recognise these symptoms together,” he told Giselle, who shrugged unhelpfully. “It’s no illness I know of. It could be...” Murdock Delved again, finding the throat was irritated as well. “Something ingested. I suppose it could be something in the air but it’s more likely to be a food or drink. What do you think?” A pause, “fine Giselle.” Be like that...

Healing this wasn’t all that difficult, even without knowing what the specific illness came from. Flush it out, give them lots of fluids and rest, they would be fine in a few hours. Murdock tried not to roll his eyes as he used Spirit, Air and Water with Earth and a little dash of Fire to flush the toxins from the man’s system. He coughed and Murdock used a cloth to delicately place over his mouth, a greenish bile coating it in short order. Hrmm! The Dedicated kept this for later inspection, wrapping it up and putting it in his pocket. Who was next?

Murdock repeated this process several times, mechanically moving from man to man. None of them were coherent, it didn’t matter if his bedside manner was lacking. Murdock simply moved in, Healed them, and went on his merry way. It was nice to skip the small talk really, just him and Giselle Healing these men who needed it. They all shared the same symptoms, and as he worked on them the man was quite confident that it was something to do with the farmers of the village, given who was targeted and what their problems were. Why, without Murdock there they might dehydrate, unable to hold anything in their stomachs. Or their livers would give out. Or maybe they would simply shrivel away into nothing, mere shells of their former selves...

The man Murdock held in his hands wriggled and made a gurgling noise, which was different to the other people he had Healed. But then with those men he hadn’t grown distracted and thought about other things such as how a man could die from his injuries. It was only at this point Murdock was truly aware that he was using the wrong weave on this farmer, doing something that wasn’t Healing. The weaves settled into his body and made his liver spasm, his throat swell and clench, and the body temperature seemed to increase rapidly. It was chaotic and out of his control really, so quickly done that Murdock was already committed before he could stop himself. The farmer gasped, gulped, wheezed and then, finally, he died. Just like that. No ceremony, no screams, no bells and whistles. He was breathing, and then suddenly he was not.

Murdock removed his hands and released Saidin, his dark eyes settling on the man he was kneeled before. The barn was quiet, the breathing in the room laboured but more tired than ill at this point. Murdock had done some good work here, and this man, well, sometimes people were too ill to treat weren’t they? That’s what happened here. Yes. Nobody would be any the wiser if Murdock told them he was too weak and died from his illness. I won’t let one farmer’s life get in the way of my dragon pin.

So Murdock stood, uneasily with his leg but rather calmly, his expression neutral until he hobbled out from behind the hay to find one of the various women tending to the less ill of the men. “Excuse me, but I’m afraid we have a dead man over here. There was nothing I could do.”

Now then, who was next? To Heal of course, he was going to have to be more careful going forwards. Giselle clicked her tongue at him and shook her head in that way that said, “oh Murdock, you silly goose!”.
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------ Murdock -------------- Nathaniel --------------- Maever -------

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Re: Uncommon Talents [Attn: Matty]

Post by Sunny » April 3rd, 2016, 8:24 am

The rudimentary basics of Healing would do little good for the cheese-faced men in the barn. Jaryd flexed his fingers consideringly, but finally shook his head, and stepped back. Murdock seemed quite certain of what needed doing, at least; the tall Dedicated moved swiftly to the first victim, and Jaryd and the Mayor were forgotten. “I will return later to assist,” Jaryd said softly. “My Talents lie elsewhere.”

He strode into the early morning sun, his thoughts already ranging ahead. Deachal Green was located on the road between Baerlon and Whitebridge. Most of its residents were farmers who lived in sprawling settlements, while the village itself consisted only of an inn, a smithy, a woodworker, and a tailor, surrounded by a handful of thatched and whitewashed houses. To most, the place would be entirely provincial, and its people quiet and uninteresting. A visitor would as soon spend their evening reading in their room as visiting with the citizens. Not so the Red Asha’man.

Jaryd feet carried him unerringly past the inn, past the tailor, and on to the second to last thatched house on the dirt road. He paused at the gate that led into the neatly tended garden, studying the building with a critical eye. Aha. He walked up the path, and rapped sharply on the dark wood door, a simple pattern that would seem whimsical to anyone listening. The door opened almost immediately, and Jaryd grinned at the broad face that peered out at him. “Mistress Indara,” he said courteously. “Might I come in a moment?”

She pursed her lips, pushed her spectacles up on her nose with one finger, then swung the door open with a disgruntled noise. She knew him; it had not been so long that she could forget. “Where is lady Carra?” Therese asked, gesturing peremptorily for him to have a seat at her dining table. He spun the chair and swung into it backward, arms crossed over the back as he watched her move around her small kitchen area.

“I do not know.” The words, spoken plain and true, seemed to take the older woman aback. Mistress Indara had been Carra’s Eyes and Ears originally. He had learned of her by accident, and when the Aes Sedai vanished, had not hesitated to bring the Andoran woman into his own network. He held her allegiance, but that did not mean she had to enjoy his company.

“What do you have for me, Therese?”

---

The Asha’man returned to the barn wrapped in the Void, agitation beating against the outer edges of his conscious mind without much effect. His face remained quiet, his voice and breath even as he spoke to the Mayor. Murdock had done a fine job, it seemed; of those he had attempted to Heal, only one had not survived. The Dedicated was still tending to the ill, his dark head bowed over the still form of another man.

Jaryd allowed himself to be led to the corpse, though what, exactly, he was supposed to see there mystified him. He certainly did not possess enough skill with Delving to determine why the man had died, and since the victim in question seemed at peace, there was little the Asha'mn could do. After murmuring a quick prayer to the Light for the man’s soul, the Altaran turned away and hurried to rejoin his traveling companion, his mind lost not in illness, but rather in reports of odd sightings and disappearances.

“If we Heal all of those in this barn, will the illness spread?” Jaryd asked without preamble.

“It may, but I have delayed it,” Murdock said.

“Light help the poor sods,” Jaryd commented, looking down at a young man who now slept peacefully. The Dedicated made a noise that might have been agreement and might have been dismissive lack of care. His attention had already shifted back toward his patient. “How long might that take? I hate to abandon them, but I just received word of something troubl-”

His voice hitched and broke off as he glanced away from Murdock and caught sight of a tall dark-haired woman in a gray dress passing by the barn on the road outside. What is she doing here? A moment later a different figure filled the doorframe, shaking shaggy black hair and looking around as he stepped inside. Pale blue eyes met coal black, and the other man paled, spinning on his heel with a muffled oath. Before he could take a step, the woman joined him. “What is it, Dax? I’m ready to-” She cut off mid-sentence as she saw Jaryd, the whites of her eyes showing as her chin rose in the air.

“Good morning, serenla,” Jaryd said, lips curving up with amusement he did not feel. Light! First odd news from the north, and now... He was beginning to wish he had let that particular report rot in his basket.

----

Either Murdock or Katrie can go next. I am not picky. lol
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Re: Uncommon Talents [Attn: Matty]

Post by Jenn » April 5th, 2016, 4:37 am

Katrie
Deachal Green. What an odd name. This little place made Baelron look positively cosmopolitan. Katrie glanced around, a frown turning down her lips. She didn't see a whole lot of green. And where were all the people? It was a village, true... but surely they didn't have so many travelers passing through that they simply ignored strangers. Or... well maybe they did. Maybe they were those grumpy types and - oh. Her curiosity flared.

She tilted her head to the side as she eyed the flat placard that had been nailed over the windows of the nearest building, a giant red "X", sloppily done, smeared across the wood. What is that?

She took a step towards it and summarily froze as Dax unfurled from the corner of her mind and coiled around her so awareness so tightly that her head began to throb. A callused palm closed around her wrist, his fingers clamping around her so tightly that it actually hurt. He very deliberately tugged her back next to him.

"No, kitten. Don't." His voice was clipped. The bond was a jumble of agitated emotion. Concern and fear churned together... predominately for her, wariness, a hint of anger... regret?... she couldn't pick out the rest quickly enough, but winding through it all was the unchanging constant of golden warmth.

Katrie he glanced up at him, the question hesitating on her lips. He felt it, she knew he did, but her Warder offered no explanation. Brown eyes took in the tense shoulders, the lowered brows, the clenched jaw. "Dax... I don't understand," she finally said softly, her words tentative, and she gave the wrist he still gripped a little shake.

Remorse passed between them and he loosened his hold. "I'm sorry," he apologized quietly, his free hand lifting to her face as he brushed the backs of his knuckles over her cheek, but he did not let go of her. "That symbol, that sign." The Gaidin gestured at the placard, the blue of his gaze finally turning to hers. "It varies, depending on where you go, but the meaning is always the same: Stay away."

She twisted her wrist out of his grip and took his hand instead, fingers lacing together with his. "What do you think happened?" Her voice was subdued.

He shook his head, the corners of his eyes tightening. "My guess would be sickness, disease, or the plague."

"We... shouldn't stay here then..." She knew that being able to channel kept her from getting ill, but she did not know if Dax would receive the same kind of immunity by being bonded to her. She would rather not have to find out.

"I couldn't agree more."

Katrie followed behind Dax as he lead them very carefully forward, the flat distance of the ko'di spreading out through the bond. She tried to keep her eyes focused on the dirt road in front of them, but she kept finding her attention drawn uneasily to the shuttered windows and closed curtains that shivered and flickered as they passed, indicating that perhaps the village was not so empty as it seemed.

"Kitten." A gentle tug, before her lover released her hand.

The tall Cairhienin blinked, starting as she turned around. "Yes?"

"Stay close."

She nodded wordlessly, her hands going to rub at her arms, the gesture having nothing to do with being cold and everything to do with attempted comfort. Dax ducked into an open doorway she had not even noticed, Katrie glancing around apprehensively yet again. Shock rolled through the bond, the flat distance disappearing. Horror. Desperation. Something fierce and sharp and an almost tangible pressure that pushed against her. Run. the feeling said.

Dax!! She rushed into the... barn?... immediately seeking him out. He wasn't hurt... her hand going to rest on his forearm, brow furrowing. The desperation only grew stronger, beating against her mind. Run!!! the feeling screamed.

"What is it, Dax? I’m ready to-" Her voice died completely in her throat as sable orbs met coal black. She sucked in a sharp breath, her insides immediately turning into icy water, and that hand that rested on her Warder's arm shifted slightly.

"Good morning, serenla."

The feeling surged inside of her mind, and for a brief moment, she thought she saw shadows dancing along the corners of her vision.

"Jaryd." It came out a whisper.

The Asha'man's gaze turned and Katrie's followed. She found herself staring at a very tall, thin man that stared back at her with what she thought was mild curiosity. He was in a black coat. With a silver sword pinned to his collar. A Dedicated. Her stomach sank, a giant fist closing around her heart. She couldn't think of anything else to say, eyes wide as they returned to near black. She was shaking, she realized, and suddenly pushed through the roiling emotions in the bond until she found Dax, clutching on to him.

Oh Light, oh Light, oh Light...
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Re: Uncommon Talents [Attn: Matty]

Post by Sunny » April 5th, 2016, 6:17 am

Jaryd's gaze flicked between runaway Accepted and erstwhile Gaidin with apparent calm, but it took every ounce of self control he had acquired over four decades to hold onto the Void and keep his face still. Any question he might have had about their relationship ended as he saw the slender woman raise a shaking hand and wrap it tightly around Dax’s cloth-wrapped forearm. What is that about? He thought with detached curiosity.

They feared him. He could see it in their eyes, read it in the tension in the Tairen’s shoulders, the pressure of Katrie’s fingers against her lover’s arm. The twinge in the Altaran’s chest might have been pain had he not already built an impenetrable wall around his heart with years of holding the Void. He had been all too aware of the likely results of the advice he had given Katrie that day in the Gardens, and had protected her decision in what manner he could. She had very nearly tumbled into his study only a few weeks before, and he had said nothing, even knowing the consequences of silence. Why are you here, serenla? He asked her silently.

Murdock’s presence reminded him uncomfortably of laws he could not ignore, responsibilities of his station that required him to take action. He met her eyes as he spoke, his mute apology unseen and unheard. “Accepted Aikaterine, it seems you suddenly have pressing and unavoidable business in my company. Dedicated Murdock and I are going north shortly to investigate some sort of odd bandit group, and I require your presence.”

His eyes shifted to Dax. “Gaidin, your assistance would be appreciated.” Dax stiffened, but Jaryd gave him a level look. “I am certain you have been making every effort to ensure the Accepted gets home safely,” he said quietly. “I would not deny you the opportunity to complete your task.” No lies….and no truth; only words, crafted specifically so they could remain together a little longer. The taller man gave him an uncertain look, then glanced at Katrie. She met his eyes silently, face still but for a slight tremble of her lower lip; after a long moment he nodded reluctant acceptance.

Jaryd turned away from his unhappy captives to look at Murdock. “How much longer will it take to Heal them?” He asked, struggling to ignore the palpable despair radiating from the younger pair by the door. “How much time will you need to rest after?”


---

OOC: Whenever Murdock's ready they'll Travel to a place in the wilderness some place north of Baerlon. Dax will reluctantly scout ahead to keep them safe, given the threat of "bandits" (aka Seanchan). Jaryd will talk about whatever he's prompted to talk about.

Go forth and spin a story! :sword
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Matty
"The Path of Daggers"
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Re: Uncommon Talents [Attn: Matty]

Post by Matty » April 5th, 2016, 1:50 pm

At the Grey Tower Murdock was well used to the intricacies of Tower politics flying over his head. He was a mere trainee, there was no need to concern himself with the goings on of the Aes Sedai and Asha'man as of yet. He had little interest in their affairs, public or personal, unless they directly affected him in some way. This was no different - Murdock didn't recognise the woman or the man who entered the barn, he had no bloody idea what a serenla was supposed to be, and he didn't get why the pair of them were suddenly coming with them on their adventures, such as they were.

Alright, Murdock did understand that part. If she was an Accepted out of the Tower unsupervised, then she was technically a runaway and it was Asha'man Jaryd's job to return her to whence she came. But Murdock didn't care for who she was, or why she had left. Accepted Aikatawhatever and Gaidin Whoeverhewas had nothing to do with Murdock and his being here for Asha'man Jaryd; his lack of curiosity was reflective of his insular, somewhat self-absorbed nature. So he only stood a short way behind the Asha'man with his hands clasped behind him, waiting until they were done speaking. Of course, when addressed he let the Asha'man know the state of affairs here. "I am almost done, and would only need a short while to rest before moving on. It would be wise for us to not remain here any longer than absolutely necessary; and when we leave I will Delve you all, with permission." Murdock wasn't able to Delve himself, but he could at least check none of them were ill. He though it highly unlikely, though. This illness was not something he suspected to be quite that contagious.

"If you will excuse me, I will finish up here." Murdock bowed his head to the men, gave the Accepted a brief but dismissive glance, then moved on. They might not be happy to be here, but again this really wasn't Murdock's business. Let them deal with their own troubles. He had enough of his own to deal with, thank you very much.

Murdock returned to finishing up with the people who needed Healing here. It was only a handful of men, and none of them suffered the same fate as their unlucky friend. No, these men would make a fine recovery, after plenty of sleep that is. He'd done good work here and was quietly proud of himself.

"Thank you Asha'man, for everything you have done here," the Mayor said, a boy carrying a tray with some bread and butter as well as a cup of juice behind him.

"I am no Asha'man, a mere trainee," Murdock was quick to reply. Not because he minded being called an Asha'man, but because he had no desire to pose as a fully ranked channeller where anyone was likely to find out and give him a thick ear. "But I appreciate your kind words. And thank you, dear child, for the food. Healing is hungry work." Murdock sat down on a hay bale, the tray resting atop his long legs. "I will eat this and then we will be on our way, though Asha'man Jaryd is leading this particular expedition."

"He is. I'll talk to him shortly, he looks a bit... preoccupied." A glance towards the barn doors and Murdock looked over as well. The Asha'man, the apparent Gaidin and the runaway Accepted were outside now, clearly waiting for Murdock to rest up. Truthfully he could probably have travelled now, but it was a long day and he did feel the need to recuperate a little if the option was there. "Light shine on you, in any case. We will remember the Grey Tower's support."

The Mayor and the boy left Murdock to eat in peace, which he did quite contently. The bread was free of weevils, a pleasant surprise, and the butter was fresh. Two bites in and the happy Dedicated was feeling rather good about everything that was going on, all things considered. That was when he was interrupted by a woman who took him by surprise, knocking his tray from his lap so his food and drink scattered on the floor.

"You! You killed my husband!" the woman growled at Murdock, who looked up with unblinking eyes. "He's dead, and it's all your fault!"

"Hardly," Murdock informed her calmly. "The man would have died whether I was here or not. I was unable to help him, that's all." Not quite the truth, but he had no oaths to worry about. "I'm sorry for your loss, but-"

"Sammael's ass are you sorry!" the woman interrupted.

"I am. Now can you keep it down? The men here are resting." Murdock had no reason to sit here any longer, so he got to his feet. Of course, he towered over this woman, but the hand that prodded his chest threatened to knock him back onto his bottom again.

"You are going to pay for what you did," she threatened.

"For Healing a whole village of ill men?" Murdock asked wryly. "Of course. How do you propose you do that then?"

"I... I'll tell the Asha'man. I heard you're a trainee, he can sort you out." The woman turned, but Murdock's grip on her arm was iron.

"No." It was one word, soft and quiet. "You will do no such thing. Be quiet," he snapped, stuffing her mouth with Air. He looked around, but there was nobody nearby. The men were sleeping, Asha'man Jaryd and his entourage were outside, and the Mayor had gone Light knows where. Even so, Murdock leaned down to speak in a near whisper, his low voice barely carrying. "I had no quarrel with you or your husband, goodwoman, but you force my hand. I will not compromise my title for a pair of backwards farmhands." His other hand gripped her throat, as he seized Saidin.

Is that a good idea? Giselle asked from behind the woman, her light eyes looking up at Murdock's enquiringly.

"Yes," was Murdock's reply, and with that he wove the five elements in an intricate weave, similar but not the same as Healing. He knew what he had to do, and how to do it. Stop the heart, shut down the organs, nobody here would question the how when he was done with her. They would simply know she had passed on, and Murdock would have no angry, passionate woman jeapordising his training for the sake of a man who was dead anyway. What a fool, Murdock thought as she went limp in his arms, his weave settling into her convulsing body. If she had just left him alone and mourned in peace, she might still be alive now. Oh well, Murdock picked up the body and took her over to where her dead husband lay - not an easy task for a man who needed a stick to walk, but he hobbled over easily enough. He lowered her down carefully, and as he lay her on the ground he put her arm over her husband, and her head on his chest. It would look as if she had died in her sleep, and she seriously doubted that anyone here was going to be able to detect his weaves. Just like that. So simple. So easy. So thrilling, to be pulsing with the life giving Saidin whilst he tore it from someone else! It was like learning to walk again, but remembering how from a past life. It simply came to Murdock.

It wasn't a suspicious amount of time Murdock had been gone, but he did think it would be best to leave now. So Murdock straightened up, releasing Saidin and nodding a goodbye to Giselle before he limped over to pick up his stick. His leg ached from the exertion but he would have to put up and shut up for now. The little wretch knocked my drink over too, he thought glumly as he passed the bread and butter and juice on the floor. Wincing, Murdock stooped over to pick the cup up, and as an afterthought he shoved the bread and butter into the hay stack. No need for anyone to find that until tonight when the mice came sniffing.

He made his way outside where Asha'man Jaryd was waiting. "Sir, I am ready to go." As ready as he would ever be.

They Travelled "just north of Baerlon," a place Murdock had never been to. He'd not been to a great many places. A couple of inquiries told him they were not far from the Two Rivers, and with that settled Murdock was content to follow the rest of the group without much to say. The Gaidin type skulked away to scout and do other Gaidin-like tasks, all of which were a little dull sounding to Murdock. He had no idea why anyone would want to be a Warder, when all it involved was subservience to another, but then as a good Far Madding man he could appreciate the desire to please the ones you cared for. Maybe the bond was as great as everyone seemed to think it was?

"You are quiet," Asha'man Jaryd observed as they walked.

"I am," Murdock replied, giving the shorter man a brief look. He was concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, more tired than he wanted to be but dealing with it without complaint. It was what he got for Rending people, after all. "I was thinking of the men we left. They were not ill because of an unfortunate illness, that was poison at work. I don't know what the business of that was, but I hope it gets resolved." He didn't ask if the man had been able to discern anything himself, because at the end of the day they weren't there now and Murdock didn't really care what happened to the rest of them. Perhaps that was selfish of him but with no personal investment in them and no real driving urge to do right by these men who had no idea who he was, why would he get emotional or weepy over the fate of a strange village in Andor? Was it so wrong to reserve his feelings for the people he cared about? And if that person at this moment in time was only himself, was that bad as well? Self preservation, survival, it was what Giselle would have wanted.

Actually, what she would have wanted was for Murdock to be happy, but this was the closest substitute.
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------ Murdock -------------- Nathaniel --------------- Maever -------

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Jenn
"The Path of Daggers"
Posts: 1086
Joined: October 12th, 2015, 1:33 am
PC: Zarius "Zeen" Iiro, the M'Hael
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Re: Uncommon Talents [Attn: Matty]

Post by Jenn » April 6th, 2016, 3:13 pm

She kept her eyes downcast, head bowed, the entirety of her focus fixated on her feet. The tips of scuffed shoes peeked out every now and again from beneath the slightly ragged hem of the grey dress she wore. Her attention never strayed more than three or four paces ahead of her. Katrie's mind was with Dax somewhere in the near distance in front of them, her Warder scouting ahead.

The bond roiled and churned violently; anger, fear, guilt, terror, horror, anxiety, panic... all of their chaotic emotions crashing and tangling together. In spite of it all, woven through everything, that golden warmth remained. It and the awareness she shared with Dax were the only two things that kept her from dissolving into a hysterical mess. Katrie wasn't able to tell where she ended and where her lover began anymore and she would not have him endure that.

She couldn't help the way she very desperately wanted him next to her, her fingers twitching from the effort it took not to stretch out physically towards him. One moment, she could hardly breathe. The next, she was furious and shaking, barely able to contain the rage that fumed and heaved from deep within her. Then there came moments where it was all she could do to keep from breaking down and sobbing. The pretty Cairhienin had her arms wrapped around herself, as if trying to both shield and protect her very core. She felt cold.

As they walked, she twisted off the ring on her finger, motions wooden, and tucked it carefully into her belt pouch. She very purposefully did not acknowledge the Asha'man that walked beside her, and she most definitely did not acknowledge the strange Dedicated that limped behind her. He had ruined everything. Which he? Katrie didn't know which male channeler she blamed. Both. She didn't care enough to differentiate. She blamed them both.

They came to a stop some time later, no doubt so that the man in the black coat could rest. Deachal Green was as distant as a memory behind them. She stepped away from where the Dedicated sat, not bothering to find out his name. Her curiosity was mute and absent. The tall Cairhienin leaned against the nearest tree, her body facing where she felt Dax to be, brown eyes glazed over and unfocused.

All too soon, an unwelcome presence intruded on her self-imposed solitude. It came to stand next to her. She didn't trust herself to speak. Instead, she shifted ever-so-slightly, the only acknowledgment she would give the Asha'man. The back of her throat began to burn, the ache there stealing away her voice. For a wild, heart pounding moment, the idea of escape consumed her. She could make a Gateway. She... could... get away. It was so powerful that she felt Dax's interest sharpen into alarm. And if you did, you might very well kill someone. Katrie sagged visibly as it passed, and she curled around the place in her mind that her Warder inhabited, his worry and his concern for her bordering on pain.

"Serenla."

"Asha'man," she replied finally, a hoarse hiccup of sound. She closed her eyes for a moment, her only barrier against the hurt that welled up. Her voice was barely a whisper when it came next. "Please. Please. Just let us go."

"You know I cannot." Inflectionless. Flat. He was holding onto the Void.

"Why?" Salt and moisture caught in the long curl of her lashes. "Why can't you?" Seconds ticked by and when enough time passed in which he would have answered, Katrie shook her head. "All my life, I've lived in a gilded cage. Until now." Until Dax. "Don't make me go back. Please don't make me go back. I just want to be free."

"It is not that easy, serenla. It is not just about fulfilling my role as an Asha'man and a Red." She heard the unspoken words of 'duty' and 'obligation' and found herself despising the very sound of Jaryd's voice. There was a long pause. "You will be free to come and go once you are Aes Sedai." The words rang hollow and they both knew it.

"Only if I swear the Oaths." Sable eyes finally met near black, her expression haunted. "So I can exchange a cage for a leash. Oh I'll be free to come and go as I please, except I'll still be trapped until the day I die." It was only through sheer force of will and stubbornness that she kept the tears that stung at her eyes from falling. Her brows lowered abruptly, the words cutting as they flew out from her mouth. "Am I a threat, Jaryd?"

He blinked at the savage question and for a fraction of a second, she thought she saw a hint of the man somewhere beneath the Void. "What? No."

"Am I abusing my power?" She asked that rhetorically, not giving him a change to answer. "No, I'm not. I don't even have any power. I don't want any. I'm not a strong channeler. I'd barely pass the Stair." Katrie was ashen beneath the warm coppery hue of her skin.

"Serenla -"

"A cage is a cage, Jaryd! It doesn't matter if I can leave it sometimes. And the Oaths are still a leash. They don't help us. You know, better than anyone, that they don't. I can see it in your eyes. I know you understand what I feel! You feel the same way! You wouldn't have -" her eyes flickered over to the Dedicated before going back to the Asha'man, "- said what you said to me in the gardens." They both knew what she was referring to.

The corners of the coal black eyes were tight. "It is not that simple, Accepted, as you well know."

Katrie flinched. She hated it when he called her by her rank. But she supposed she had done the same to him. "You're Red Ajah. You say that a lot. You're supposed to help stop abuses of power from happening, aren't you?" Her head tilted to the side ever-so-slightly and she made herself meet and hold the Asha'man's gaze. "Then why are you letting the Grey Tower follow in the footsteps of the White? We're not the White Tower. Why do we even swear the Oaths? Why aren't you doing something to keep the Grey Tower from following in that particular abuse of power? Isn't that the kind of thing you're supposed to be trying to stop - "

She cut off with a strangled gasp of sound as once again, Dax unfurled from the corner of her mind and coiled around her so awareness so tightly that her head began to throb. Her shoulders rolled back and her head lifted. Her thoughts scattered as apprehension, unease, and dread crashed over her, the bond thrumming with tension. The Gaidin was... running. Back to them.

"Something's wrong," she whispered, glancing between Jaryd and the Dedicated.
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Sunny
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Re: Uncommon Talents [Attn: Matty]

Post by Sunny » April 8th, 2016, 12:34 am

Muttered curses. Silence. Poison at work. Why? Why can’t you? I hope it gets resolved. I don’t even have any power.

Life is not that simple!

Oh Light, but he wished it were. Jaryd’s mind spun in circles, and he put the tips of spidery fingers to his temples in an effort to bring some ease to the discomfort in his head. He looked up, and his eyes fell on Murdock, who looked back with empty black eyes, face devoid of emotion. Something felt wrong about the way the man looked at him; the Asha’man flinched away. Something to think about another time.

Katrie had cut off her diatribe, her eyes wide as she stared into the distance to the north. “Something’s wrong,” she said, in an odd echo of his own thoughts. Jaryd tilted his head curiously, recognizing both distraction and pose from months of watching Ravak respond to Kaia’s emotional cues. Bonded again, did you? He would not –could not- ask.

No sound marked the Tairen Gaidin’s reappearance despite his speed. One moment there was nothing, and the next he walked between Jaryd and the Accepted, his entire demeanor vibrating with urgency. “There are strange warriors very close,” he said. “It looks more like a small army than bandits. And women.” He hesitated, clearly deeply uncomfortable with whatever he had seen. Jaryd motioned for him to continue. “Some of the women wore….they wore collars, Ash’man. With leashes.” The feeling of unease in the Altaran’s head exploded in a million jagged fragments.

“Blood and bloody ashes,” Jaryd swore, stopping in his tracks. “Seanchan.” His voice, usually mellow and reasonable, if rather imperious, hardened to cold steel as he spoke the word. The others turned to look at him, and Dax gave him a horrified look. “How many specifically? Are there others?” The Asha’man asked.

“There were enough that I thought I should return immediately; they will cross paths with us in a few minutes.” Dax said, blue eyes flat and worried, flicking from Jaryd to Katrie and back again. He might not have recognized the Seanchan on sight, but it seemed he knew what they were in theory.

Jaryd wrapped himself in the Void, cold intellect pushing his consternation away. Fear and anger would accomplish nothing but to panic those he traveled with. They could not Travel away, and they could not hide. The remaining options left a bitter taste in his mouth. “The women on leashes are called damane,” he said softly. “Their ability to channel is controlled by the women who hold the leash, and they are trained to destroy opposition. If they sense Katrie’s ability to channel they will do their best to kill us and collar her.” Dax’s tanned face paled.

The sound of rapidly approaching intruders interrupted the silence his words had provoked. Jaryd reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin. Fine flows of Spirit and Air wove into a tight mesh that sank into the coin and vanished. More Spirit flowed out around him, forming a wall between them and the Seanchan. If a damane passed that line, she would have a very bad time indeed. Wards were curious things, and he had found some distinctly unconventional ways of using them. He could not place the final flows on his coin until the Seanchan were actually upon them, but then… Creator grant peace to their souls, for they will find none in the remainder of their short, painful lives.

The entire process had taken a heartbeat; now he looked up at them, dark eyes serious. “Forget whatever drivel the Tower told you about living by the Oaths. Run if you can, but kill if you must. Get back to where we came through the Gateway- I can Travel from there.” He paused, then looked intently at Katrie. "Do NOT Travel, serenla. If the Seanchan learn how to make Gateways..." He drew the side of his hand along his throat.
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