"Agreed. Let's go."
As the boy tries to decide what to do about the giant armored Ogier charging down on him, he feels the ground rumble underneath him. Catching his balance as a large rock bouncing down the hill crushes against his leg and side, breaking ribs and injuring his hip. 'Someone must be channeling....' "their forsaken! Of course someone..." The inner dialogue between the two halves of the Asha'man stops, as he is thrown into a frothing panic. Holding his sword in a death grip for a last line of defense, he flees south from the hill, the darkfriends atop it and the charging Ogier.
[ooc]i'll say that we are out of combat. The threat has retreated from the group, and lucian is taking a moment to recenter upon reality.
Lucian flees into the thick woods, while the wise words from the Wise One bring Chen to a sudden halt at the tree line. Seeing the wisdom in her words, Chen turns and churns up his legs through the snow up towards the summit of the hill.
"Shall we Travel?" Ryvin suggests. "We can go pretty much anywhere, as soon as we've memorized a good spot to jump off from. Not this hill, though; I'm done with sitting up there like a target. We could head to the Mountains of Mist in Andor, get our bearings."
"Sounds as good a plan as any. If we're quick once the weave is opened, we should be gone before anyone has a chance to react.
"While I'm more than happy to move away from here, I am surprised that none of you wish to investigate the power source further. Regardless, I am ready to travel with you all wherever we decide to go." The not gentle giant says calmly, still eyeing further in the tree line to watch for returning combatants.
"There's enough power there to scatter the continent into dust and it keeps growing... Haaaaa, so yeah, we probably should go investigate," Ryvin admits with a heartfelt sigh.
Taldo runs through the forest as fast as the terrain will allow. "Stop running you lily-livered coward!" His black coat flying loosely. 'They will kill us! Their too powerful! We can lead them away from the Lord Dragon!' Snow forcing itself into the tops of the expensive leather boots. "We can't do anything if your running!" His right hand a death grip on his sword, his left catching branches and small trees to balance himself 'I Can't! They are too strong for us! But we can lead them off!' He stumbles his loose hair blowing in his face. "Soldiers obey orders! We have a duty to the Lord Dragon!" The black coated figure falls to his knees throwing his hands to his face. 'I can't go back I'm too weak.' The sword dropping from his hands, causing the snow to steam as the fire-weaved blade cuts through, landing on the frozen ground in a puddle. "That's why I'm here."
Lucian stands to his feet, taking off the sword belt and throwing it over his shoulder, he buttons the long black leather coat then puts the sword belt back on outside the coat. He turns the collar up on his coat so the two pins are boldly displayed, then reaches into his pocket and drawing out a leather strip pulls the loose hair into a tight ponytail. Finally squaring his shoulders, he turns his head slowly cracking the joints in his neck he weaves air, spirit and water healing himself.
Having prepared for the battle to come, he carefully picks up his sword from the puddle, giving it a good shake. Seeing a few small stones in the pool of water, 'Hmmmm, a few small stones may be beneficial.' He pick several of them up and dropping them into his coat pocket giving a cold smile, he stride back thorough the forest following his own tracks. 'Now we deal with those dark friends.' as somewhere in the back of his head a boy cowers. "I just wanted to draw them away from the Lord Dragon."
You all start to trudge off the hill top, intending to head north towards the source of the channeling when a flash of brown upon draws your attention off to the north west, upon a small upthrust of rocks covered in snow.
The figure raises its arms above its head in a flurry of motion and brings them down, pointed towards you...
A boulder, the size of a small house, explodes from the top of the upthrust, breaking free from it's confines of earth, soil and snow. It arcs high in the air, as if shot from a catapult, ascending until it hovers in the air for a moment, and then begins to descend towards the group....
...where it disintegrates into gravel from the violent hurl.
At the same time a small orange ball erupts from a hand, and streaks through the air and explodes in the air just above everyone's heads.
Ryvin wheezes as the fire washes over her -- then retaliates, drawing again on the power hidden in the brooding clouds overhead. Lightning lances down, impacting the brown figure.
"Could use a drop of Healing," she exclaims between clenched teeth.
Chen deflects the disintegrating rock with his massive shield, it sounds like hail on rooftop before him. Lowering it, he just has time to dash to the side as fire explodes around him.
"Enemy west by northwest!" Chen yells in case any of the others hadn't seen the source of the attack. He raises his shield and begins to move toward the attacker.
Gritting her teeth against the pain as the ball of fire explodes around her, Fiallain hurries over by Ryvin and channels a stream of air, water, and spirit into her companion and a paltry one of air and fire towards the enemy.
"We need to spread out so he can't catch us all at once!"
-13hps
-7hps
A fireball explodes where the man stands, while a couple lightning bolts lance down from the skies above, hammering the spot. The man jerks savagely to his left, seeking to avoid the lethal response. a small cloud of snow is kicked up from his evasion, and for a slight moment, he is obscured until he returns to his feet.
Chen lowers his shield to his side and charges through the snow capped hilltop, blazing a large furrow in the white powder as he advances upon the unknown channeler.
Rhoekk moves as well, raising his shoufa to his face as he moves through the snow. WHere chen is like a plow, rhoekk is graceful and fluid, seeming to flow through the snow.
The man, seeing his enemies spread wide, brings a hand across his chest and sweeps it wide in front of him. He points directly at chen while his other hand lifts over his head and drops to his side.
Flames erupt from within and without Chen's armor and body, burning everything that is him. From top of his head, down to his toes, his entire body is on fire.
Looking at chen, you see flames lick out from the gaps in his armor, his hair, any exposed skin. One moment, he was chen, and next he is a charging pillar of fire.
at the same time, a small dome appears around the man, and he vanishes from sight. More accurately, him, and everything behind him disappears.
at the same time, a small dome appears around the man, and he vanishes from sight. More accurately, him, and everything behind him disappears.
'Good the party on the hilll are too busy dealing with the male channeler to worry about me.' Finding himself on the south-eastern side of the hill, where he started. Lucian begins to move up the eastern side of the hill, to attempt to get a good look at whever is channeling. Holding his sword in his right hand, he reaches into his pocket with his left, drawing out one of the small stones he picked up. 'I Guess dark friends could fight amongst themselves if the trophy is worth it. Hopefully they will kill each other so I only have to deal with one or the other.'
"Flaming Illusion!" Ryvin curses as she reaches deep inside and channels. "We need to get in close, look for tracks!"
Trying - and failing - to bring an Aeriform Shield into existence, the Ebou Dari charges after Shen. "" she roars at the top of her voice.
Wheel of time turns and ages blah blah...
The inn you sit in is cramped. Very cramped. No matter how you move, you feel someone pressed against you as you sit. An arm, a leg, a back, there is very limited space in this otherwise roomy in.
Men and women have sought refuge from the world at large inside the walls of Baerlon, and this inn, like so many others, is no different. Filled to the rafters and beyond, the swell of people is enough to make even the most diligent city lover to take a moment and think to themselves Ugg.
Yet, for as cramped as you are, none has it worse than Chen. His massive frame cannot stand up fully within the room, nor can he sit upon any furniture inside the inn, having already broken 3 chairs in an attempt to rest comfortably. Instead, he sits upon the floor, his legs spread out from him in an attempt to create distance between the rest of the people in the room, and the group.
The group all look at each other, long silent looks that speak volumes as the press of masses forces drowns out attempts at soft speeches. Your thoughts go back to 2 days earlier, and your brief encounter with the Dragon's entourage.
The aged lady looked down upon all of you, her breath still heavy from the extreme effort she exerted from the recent battle. She pulled a small envelope from a pocket and presented it to Fiallian. I was warned that should today be successful, I would encounter a group. I was simply asked to convey this letter to the group. The young lady has proven to be knowledgeable of future occurrences, and as such i felt it a small thing to carry a letter for a "perhaps". Beyond that, i cannot offer aide. We go to secure the Boy. You must seek shelter elsewhere.
The lady, and the rest of the party walk through a Gateway, onto a field, and from there, who knows. For you, as the Gateway closes Fia looks down and opens the letter.
Dear Fia, Ryvin, Rhoekk, Chen, and Taldo.
Know that by reading this letter I am glad that you have survived your journeys through the Portal Stones, as you quested for the Grey Man. Know that as i write this, i weep for your companions that couldnt make it. Litheene, Alathea, Keelix, Ryland, and dear Amorial. They all had an immense impact upon you all, especially you Fia.
I know that your search for the Grey Man may seem like it has ended in failure, but perhaps it isnt such a time for the Grey Man to be found. Perhaps now isnt the time for such a thing.
Instead, you have been brought back to our world. For what, i know not, aside from three important...fortunes
One, the Asha'man Taldo is to accompany you.
Two, You are to be in Baerlon two days hence.
Three, You shall meet someone that shall influence your actions...
The letter ends as such, unsigned.
And now, here you sit, wedged in amongst the culmunation of humanity that seeks refuge from the strange winds of fate that seems to be tugging at everyones threads, weaving them together into this single room.
Chen was used to human buildings not fitting him. Hell, he was used to Ogier buildings and furniture not fitting him. He was the largest of his kind anyone had ever seen. Only the halls of the Imperial palace were naturally grandiose enough to fit him in any comfortable way. His dwelling among the gardeners had custom furniture that had been made to his size, even other Gardeners looked like children when they entered his rooms or sat on his chairs. How he missed those simple comforts.
He had stored his armor and weapons in the stables. He wasn't worried about theft, he doubted even a trolloc could lift his gear, all together it weighed nearly as much as he did. Now the stench of this human gathering place had him in a foul mood. His head brushed the ceiling even while he was seated with his back against a wall. His companions sat at a table near him discussing the letter. They had informed him of its contents. He couldn't read the language of the mainland yet and his speech, while improved from what it had been, was still pretty heavily accented.
He eye'd their new recruit suspiciously. How can they accept these channeling men so easily. "Darkspawn" he mumbled under his breath. The noise of the crowd barely drowned it out.
He waived at a tavern maid, a wee bit of a woman who he likely could have held in his hands like a small bird, pointing at the cask he had removed the end of to use as a cup, gesturing for more ale.
"Any guesses who even sent this note to us?" he said in his deep rumbling tone.
Fia takes the note back out and scans it once more, her eyes skipping past the names of the falle…missing. It was too painful, and this was not the time or place for grief. She studies the script for a moment.
“They seem well acquainted with us and our mission. Or at least, yours and Amorial’s.” She says, glancing up at Rhoekk.
'I can't believe the Lord Dragon agreed with Cadsuane that I should stay here with these people. "It's all you fault! If you Hadn't ran off..." Closing out the voice in his mind, Taldo, looking dejected, 'I wonder what he meant when he said that 'maybe I wouldn't end up like Fedwin Morr.' Watching as Cadsuane hands the one named Fiallian the letter. She was warned... should we be successful, So saidin, the male half has been cleansed. The young Lady? I wonder who gave it to her?' Watching as the people he had been traveling with leave, he turns toward the Aiel woman Fiallain as she reads the note and Speaks to the ones named Rhoekk and Amorial...
'I wasn't sure I'd ever see Andor again, let alone go to Baerlon, it's much more provincial, than I expected.' "talk about stating the obvious." Brushing his loose hair out of his face, Taldo ignores Lucian's Insult. 'Never expected an inn here to be this crowded. "'Yet you chose to sit with your back to the door." Rolling his eyes, at himself, 'I ... we .. are amongst friends here, we don't need to be worried.' He shifts in his seat, ignoring 'Lucian's scoff, tucking his open coat behind him. His eyes falling on the Senchan Ogier sitting on the floor, 'and one of them is a 'Gardner' he must be miserable sitting on the floor.' about that time he noticed Chen looking at him and hearing him mumble something but not quite making it out, Nodding poitely. 'Tough fighters, I'll give him that.'
Moving his sword scabbard so it stopped banging between his leg and Fiallain's, he see's Chen lift his cask for a refill, he looks down at the ale he had barely sipped, frowning at it. When the Ogier asked about the note, Taldo turns to Fiallain and asks, "I did notice that the note mentioned everyone by name, but used the nickname Fia for you, is it possible someone your close to wrote it?"
"It was not written by anyone so close that I would recognize the handwriting, and I certainly don't know anyone 'knowledgeable of future events.'
She frowns in thought. "Although... I have heard rumors of a wetlander woman who follows the Car'a'carn. It is said she can foretell the future. I have never seen or met this person, and always thought the tale exaggerated gossip, but the Aes Sedai certainly seemed to believe it true. Perhaps there is a connection somehow?"
"Yes, well, there's all sorts of talents around these days," Ryvin says while she first cleans out her clay pipe, then fills it with fresh tabac. The Ebou Dari uses a coal to light her bowl, puffs to get her pipe going, then exhales a couple of smoke rings.
"So," she says. "We followed that letter's say-so, let the old harpy send us off to this charming locale" -- Ryvin actually drawls the word 'locale' as though she were noble born, and gestures grandly with her pipe -- "so now what? Are we just going to sit here catching fleas and getting the air sucked out of our lungs by the crush, or are we going to have ourselves a look-see around town? No guarantees that this mystery person is going to come to us, after all."
Ryvin's dark eyes swivel to Taldo.
"The Wheel surely turns," the Wilder says in a low tone, pitched so no outsiders can hear, her eyes continuing to stare at Taldo. "The whole Source... cleansed. Have you tried it yet? What's it like?"
'Any one knowledgeable of future events?' Grasping the pint of ale with both hands, 'A wetlander who follows the 'car'a'carn ? Ah, she's Aiel she means a normal person who's with Ran' Licking his lips nervously, 'I wonder is she means Min. "Boy keep your mouth shut, these strangers don't need to know anything about the Dragon Reborn." He looks up quickly from his ale towards Fiallain, 'I can provide information without giving them anything to use against Ran, Just stuff everyone knows.'
As Ryvin begins to speak, he glances at her then looks back to his ale. 'All sorts of Talent?' He looks up at her giving a quick smile then quickly back down at his pint. "Old Harpy, she's got that right!" Smiling, not wanting to agree with his alterego, Taldo focuses on the rest of the conversation. 'Look around town? Maybe the person will come to us.' Lifting the stein to his lips 'That's true, whatever we do the wheel will keep turning...
Realizing the woman for Ebou Dari had began speaking lower, he looks over the stein toward her, his eyes widen when he realizes she is talking to him. 'Have I tried it yet?' Lowering the still full pint. 'How do you describe the greatest feeling in your life?' He looks from Fiallain to the others at the table, realizing all eyes were on him. 'How do you describe being addicted to the greatest feeling in creation realizing it will kill you, but still needing it anyway? Then that greatest feeling is cleaned and full of life.' Taldo nods, "Umm, it feels...Cleaner?"
Dropping his head, 'Well that's the dumbest thing ... Shut Up!' Looking back up he turns to Fiallain "I know her, the woman you were talking about." He shrugs lightly, "I don't know if she sent the letter or not. But I know her. Her name is MIn. She's Ran's ... um girlfriend?" He looks back toward Ryvin "I've seen her make some viewings. Not to everyone, just ones that she felt so strongly about that she had to say something even if I was there." He lowers his gaze and quickly takes another sip of the ale.
Also, depending on if you were able to see of him during the earlier combat. I'm assuming Lucian hasn't manifested since then.
As Lucian, he wears his coat buttoned and the collar up and his hair in a pony tail. His face looks much older than his 30 years and his eyes are a cold light almost white blue. Lucean deals with conflict and is a killer. As Taldo he wears his coat open and his hair down. His face looks younger and his eyes are darker blue and warmer. Taldo acts submissive and shy, Taldo wants to focus on healing and helping. They are both loyal to Rand.
As for what you could see with the sense motive, I'm not sure. He clearly is insecure and self-doubting. But is very honest and open.
I'm good with you 'sensing' all of it or little of it, depending on how you want to play it.
"Hrn," Ryvin grunts... and she holds out a hand to Taldo, voice still pitched for the party's ears only. "Don't think we did the proper introductions. Ryvin Altessar. Wilder. Ran with some of your lot a while back. I... managed to do them some good, before the Taint was cleansed away. Want I should give it a try for you?"
'Weren't properly introduced? I really don't remember. We've been traveling together and I heard the others call her Ryvin but introduced?' Taldo could feel Lucian shaking his head in disbelief as Taldo focused in the introduction part. She's telling us she can use saidar you idiot not being polite!' Oh...'
Taldo looks up sheepishly at the short dark-haired woman. "Oh. um nice to meet you?" he begins to look down realizing his eyes had lowered to her olive neckline. He quickly looks back toward his pint of ale. 'Ran with some of your lot? managed to do them some good?' Give it a try? She must assume I don't feel well because I'm not drinking a lot.'
Blinking Taldo looks rather confused, looking up at her face, shrugging. "I'm feeling fine, I'm just drinking my ale slowly because I don't like to lose control. Bad things happen when I lose control." He smiles. "My friend Flinn is an excellent healer. He taught me some of the healing weaves. So I'm able to look after myself mostly."
'Make some viewings?' What is he talking about? Is this another strange wetlander thing? No, it must be what he calls whatever this alleged 'telling the future' thing is. Girlfriend? A fling? Or something more? Either way, that sounds... dangerous.
Fia leans back into the conversation, her eyes fixing intently on Taldo. "Have any of them come true? The 'viewings' this Min person made?"
'Have any of them come true? Looking from the buxom Ryvin to the Aiel woman, he shrugs "I don't know, but a lot of the Aes Sedai wanted to talk to her all the time."
Chen finishes his second "cup" of ale, His cheeks slightly rosy from the several gallons of alcohol. "No Fiallain, he must mean omens. Not viewings. Taldo this Min is Omen seer no?" Chen asks the young man in his heavy and loud Seanchan accented voice. "The marath'damane must be trying to learn the signs and portents from her. This woman she is Seanchan?"
The door to the inn opens, revealing a tall Aiel man dressed in the Cadin'sor of his people. A traditional buckler adorns his left arm, and on his back a quiver shows arrows and the spears of his people.
He pauses, upon seeing the masses of humanity, and the overly large Ogier in the room, the smell of that many people giving the Aiel pause before he nods to himself, more than anyone and enters.
These wetlanders pack themselves into these places, would they not be better served in tents where they could have space from each other? He gingerly picks his way through the crowded inn, eyes finally settling upon the Aiel at the bar. He approaches, his youngish face showing a momentary flash of relief before stilling its emotions in the Aiel way.
He nods to the two Aiel, and takes in the others as well. Greetings, I am Jedric of the Jindo Taardad, Shae'en M'taal, may you find shade this day. I am relieved to find some of our people in this place. I was cut off from my brethren by Trollocs and a shadowrunner who brought fire from the sky. I found these wetlander roads which lead here. I had hoped to find word of my companions, but this seems not to be the case.
He bows deeply before the Wise One, Greetings honored one, may I help you in some way until I find my kinsmen?
He takes in Ryvan, Taldo, and Chen; accepting that the Wise One must have reason for speaking with these people without comment.
"Feh," the Ebou Dari mutters, and she blows out another smoke ring. "Aes Sedai never seem to stop talking. The old corbies that cling to the old ways, anyway. More than half the time it's not to find things out, but to try and hammer the way they want to see the world be into other people's heads. Still, there's rare Talents out there, sure enough. I guess I'll reserve judgment until I see the lady in action."
In Ryvin's case, what neckline Taldo can see is actually the collar of a sturdy dress of black wool -- buttoned up to the chin. The chainmail shirt she wears over the wool is not very fetching, either.
It's not a total loss, though; Taldo has a fine view of the leather collar Ryvin wears.
It's the kind of broad collar usually reserved for big dogs. The kind used to guard places. It's got spikes on, and anyone who tries to grab Ryvin by the neck is likely to have a very bad day.
When Jedric shows up, the Ebou Dari raises one eyebrow at him. Nothing more.
"You guys know him?" she casually asks of Fiallain and Rhoekk.
Rhoekk turns and looks at Jedric. He stands to his feet, his tall frame standing equal to Jedric's. May you find water and Shade. I am Rhoekk of the Taardad. I have heard of you, Jedric. Your exploits from three years ago when the Trollocs attacked Warm Spring Folds, brought much jih to your sept. Holding off seven Trolloc with a broken spear-shaft and broken arm until help arrived. We shall share water over your success. He reaches out and clasps forearms with Jedric.
In Ryvin's case, what neckline Taldo can see is actually the collar of a sturdy dress of black wool -- buttoned up to the chin. The chainmail shirt she wears over the wool is not very fetching, either.
It's not a total loss, though; Taldo has a fine view of the leather collar Ryvin wears.
It's the kind of broad collar usually reserved for big dogs. The kind used to guard places. It's got spikes on, and anyone who tries to grab Ryvin by the neck is likely to have a very bad day.
"Omens?' Looking from the women to the Ogier, Taldo raises an eyebrow, 'No I'm sure they called them viewings, but the big guy can call them whatever he wants.' turning back to Ryvin, her description of Aes Sedai causing him to smile, 'She's right on both counts.'
Hearing the voice behind him, Taldo turns, 'What the ...' forcing himself to not jump out of his seat. "Stay calm you imbicile, the Aiel Clans serve the Dragon lord." the skin crawling up the back of his neck 'Yeah, unless he's Shaido.' Taldo embraces the source letting the sensation, overwhelm him.
Grettings honored one?' seeing the man's deference to Fiallain and Rhoekk's quick responce; Taldo breaths a little easier and nods to the man as they make eye contact, waiting for Fiallain to speak to the man.
Upon seeing Rhoekk also of the Taardad, Jedric quiets a moment, knowing he is in the presence of powerful warlords and Wise Women, Rhoekk, my water is yours. It was that day which Rhuarc awarded me Nightrunner's Bane as a token of ji. I will carry it until I wake from the dream.
Fiallain, my honor is yours, I did not recognize you immediately, and I have toh to you. I did not expect to encounter the pair of you here in the wetlands, so far from where our people are now.
I see you, Ryvin Altessar, your name is known to me; he says bowing his head only to the Ebou Dari woman, if you are here with Fiallain and Rhoekk, then my water is also yours.
Turning to the seated Ogier, he bows again I see you, Chen Armad, Ogier of the Seanchan, your name is known to me, although I do not know your people's title for what you do. I know that you are different from the Treesingers here in the wetlands and the three-fold-land, although your massive size marks you as whom you are. Unless the Wise One says differently we should ground the spears.
Lastly looking to Taldo, he cocks his head to the right slightly, Apologies goodman, I know not your name, but if you are here with Rhoekk and Fiallain, I am sure you are welcome beneath their roof.
We were sent far to the west here to scout,[/] looking to the wetlanders and Ogier,[b] I am Shae'en M'taal, known as the Stone Dogs, we scout for the Algai'd'siswai. We reached the mountains days to the west of here before we were set upon by Trollocs and shadowrunners who conjured fire.Turning back to the Wise One and Rhoekk, I suspect many of my companions woke from the dream in this battle, and I survived by my wits. What brings you to this place, we have not heard news or the boasts of speardancers drunk on Oosquai in many moons.
”Seanchan omens, wetlander viewings… I do not know of either. Maybe they are two words for the same thing?” Fia says musingly, while trying not to smile at the ridiculous idea of Rand al’Thor being with a Seanchan woman. Or, at least, she hoped the idea was a ridiculous one. The boy had a penchant for decidedly odd ideas and behaviors, after all.
A few moments later, as Jedric approaches, Fiallain leans over to Ryvin and responds quietly, “By reputation, if not personally.”
Following Rhoekk, she then rises and is about to introduce herself when Jedric instead first names her. She gives a small smile and inclines her head slightly. She is a tall, athletic-looking woman (middling height for an Aiel, perhaps), with brown hair and green eyes, with odd flecks within one eye. She looks to be in her early twenties, and is dressed in an off-white blouse and dark tan, ankle-length skirt. She wears an amulet around her neck, and moves with the casual grace of a trained warrior.
“I see you, Jedric of the Jindo Taardad. May you find shade this day… but please, I have not yet returned to Rhuidean.” She says, with a subtle emphasis on the last as if to signify something.
“I do not think we will be a likely source of news for you, having only recently arrived ourselves, and I fear we may be short on oosquai, but you are welcome to join us. ”
Considering Fiallain's words, Again, I have toh. But I do have oosquai, and it seems fitting to share it. The Aiel produces a jug from his pack, seemingly well-travelled and places it on the counter. He fishes for a cup in his pack, and withdraws a broken teacup, which falls apart in his hands. Nodding at the turn of events, Jedric takes a small sip directly from the jug, fastidiously wiping the lip down.
I had hoped to hear more news of the Car'a'carn , but we have been wandering so long, I am not surprised that there is no news in this place. Nor have I seen trace of the Shaido since we were sent this way.
With that simple pronouncement, Jedric sits, and listens politely to the discussion at hand, or whatever the others are discussing.
Chen ponders if all Aeil have some sort of distaste for the blind as the newcomer declares his ability to see everyone present. The ogier cant stand in the limited space but he bows his head politely, neither is he dressed imposingly, he isn't wearing mask or helm and is adorned in a black cotton shirt with brown trousers and leather leather boots. His eyes, the size of plates, are a dark green and his hair is sandy brown.
"It is nice to meet you Jedric of Taarad Aeil. The title I currently have is Vice Captain of the Gardeners, a specilized branch of her Imperial Majesty's Deathwatch Guard. I will assume that to ground the spears means to not fight. That is wise though if your skill is akin to Rhoekk, then it would be an honor to fight you."
'May you find water? My water is yours? I have toh?'' Looking from the Taardad Aiel to Flallain. 'Obviously polite greetings' Taldo senses Lucian rolling his eyes, "Obviously you dim wit." Shut up and let me listen!' Glancing over to Ryvin and Chen as he greets them. 'So he's heard of these four, that puts him one up... Swallowing hard, as the Aiel look directly at him, 'Good man? Welcome under their roof?' He looks from the man to his new companions, shutting out Lucians loud scoff. 'Yeah I don't know about that, I wouldn't be with them except for that blasted letter.'
Relieved that Jedric began talking to the others, Taldo's gaze returns to his still full ale. Stone dogs, them I've heard of. But since these folks just returned from another world two days ago, I'm not surprised they have no information... Short on oosquai and welcome to join us? Is he the reason for the letter from Min?'
Contemplating his own thoughts Taldo looks up startled when Jedric announces he had hoped to hear about the Car'acarn. 'That's what the Aiel call Rand. "You will not tell him about the Lord Dragon, You don't have.." Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! I will talk to whom I please!' Squirming and clearly uncomfortable, Taldo slides his hands off of the pint of ale and places them flat on the table, using the source to calm himself, then releasing it as he sees the man sit down and join them.
'An honor to fight you? I don't know who has stranger ways, the Seanchan or the Aiel.' Waiting politely while Chen greets the newest member of their party, Taldo clears his voice, "My friends call me Taldo." looking at Fiallain then back at Jedric "Since Fiallain thinks your ok, I guess it wouldn't hurt to give you a little information." Lifting one hand off of the table, "I've only been with these four for two days. Before that I was with Ra... um ... the Lord Dragon, I guess the Aiel call him the 'Car'acarn.' I'd be happy to fill you in on a few things later."
Placing his other hand back around his pint of ale. "When you walked in we were discussing a letter we were given by Cadsuane, a member of the green ajah that is traveling with the Dragon Reborn." He looks over to the letter, gesturing towards it. "It's the reason we're here."
Nodding to the Asha'man, Jedric begins his formal greetings again, I see you Taldo of the Asha'man.
Turning back to the seated Ogier,Thank you. I see you Chen, Vice Captain of the Gardeners. You honor me by comparing my skills to that of Rhoekk. I am simply who I am, and I have not tested myself against his spears, I am sure the Aethen Dor would hold his own against a Shae'en M'taal such as myself. he grins at the last, with the deeply unfathomable humor of the Aiel.
Might I see these words put to paper by Cadsuane Sedai? It is information, and maybe I will learn more of what the pattern has in store. Jedric reads the paper, upside down from where he is sitting without standing, It seems fortunate that I have come across you, and perhaps you will help lead me back to where the Car'acarn is, and I may be reunited with our brothers.
Considering the words in the letter for a moment Jedric laughs, Well, I am sorry to tell you, I am not the person who shall influence your actions, but I am pleased to be swept along with the Car'acarn's plans. He takes a second small sip of the potent Aiel liquor. Who do you expect will meet you in this place, or is that still a mystery?
Fiallain's mouth twists wryly and she gives a shrug of her shoulder. "We have no idea. Our letter-writer has a flair for the dramatic, it would seem. Or maybe did not know herself."
As you all stand around ("stand" for chen) exchanging pleasantries, the press of persons keeps increasing. THe smell increases, the noise level rises, until its as loud as two armies fighting within a canyon. Waitresses and bar maids are unable to service people for the room is thick, instead bellowing at patrons to pass tankards and plates of food to people on the far side of the room. As this progresses, it becomes common for the patron to receive a half eaten plate of food, an empty tankard, a heavy press into the wall. The mood shifts, turning from comradely, to annoyance, to outbursts of anger. Screams erupt, only to be swallowed by the cacophony of the crowd.
Even though he sits upon the floor, CHen's largess allows him the sight to see the first blow happen. A woman, tall of frame, blonde hair cascading down to her hips, wearing a dress with a plunging neckline, slight lace trimed upon the sleeves, light tanned dress with a scarlet sash upon her waist. Her face, normally bright, friendly earlier this evening, grows murderous. Enhanced by the makeup she wears, luscious red lipstick, deep shadowed eyes, long eyelashes, eyebrows plucked to perfection, her lips narrow to a point, suppressed rage evident upon her face as her cheeks suck in, her nose flares slightly as she exhales hard, her eyes close to narrow slits, the eyebrows furrow down, denoting a slight alien look to her otherwise beautiful features.
The man she looks at, doesnt see it coming.
The plate she received was empty. Large, painted white with a blue line about the rim, drips a heavy gravy upon the floor at her feet, devoid of the large hunk of meat and vegetables that should have been upon the plate for her dinner. The woman looks from the plate to the man who handed it to her, lifts it above her head, and brings it down upon the man's head.
The plate shatters into small pieces, exploding from the man's crown, and peppering patrons in the immediate vicinity. The swirl of the crowd, close pressed already, suddenly changes, as several people react to the show of violence. Hands lift up in cheers, while others deftly bring theirs to dagger hilts. The man, who took the blow, staggers under the heavy impact, and sags out of sight. Another guy, a miner from the severe dirt stains upon his chest and arms, sees his companion fall unconscious, and lashes out immediately, punching the woman square in the face. Another man reacts to that by punching out as well, but not at the initial man who hit the woman, but instead at another random gentleman in a bit finer clothing.
From there, the whole room erupts into a general scrum of body's punching, gouging, kicking, into each other. And yet, surprisingly, none of the ones who grasped at daggers draw the steel blades, instead relying upon their fists, elbows, knees and feet to participate in the heavy scrum. Hands, clenched into fists, smash into faces, chests, arms, elbows slam onto the tops of heads, faces, knees lift up and catch people in the lower abdomen, driving blows that wind opponents, causing charlie horses upon lower limbs. The occasional foot comes up high, catching someone unawares in a back, a butt, chest, somewhere where the blow will be effective. To gain purchase on opponents, to ensure victory, people reach out and grasp at anything to steady their blows. Fistfuls of hair, clothing; anything to gain purchase to land that telling blow is used.
Twin Ravens resting upon twin towers tattooed on the shoulders of one guy.
Short, even for humans, he fights with his fists just like everyone else. His blows are a bit more precise, a bit more accurate for these common country folk who only know how to barroom brawl. His shirt, torn from the commotion, hangs raggedly around his waist as he ducks and dodges through the crowd, seeking the nearby exit.
His black hair is cut short, just above the ears, just above the brow, keeping his sight clear. The rest of him you cannot see as he is swallowed up by the crowd.
In a voice he normally reserved for giving orders on the battlefield, Chen leans forward and glares at the crowd, and yells, in a voice that is like the roar of a hurricane and an avalanche all together.