He knew he was mad.
That was the only explanation that fit for what he was experiencing.
I am indeed mad. A madness has taken over my self. a voice, his voice, something that echoed his tone and inflection of voice sounded in his detached awareness. For indeed, he felt that he was detached from what was happening around him. His sense of self view, when he looked through his eyes, aware of his surroundings, in command of himself, was disjointed. instead, he looked at something else entirely. as if he had taken a large step back from his viewpoint, and instead could only observe what was happening to the body he was held captive in.
Words appeared in front of him, as if written in a dirty, shaky hand. shock, excitement, fear, and oddest of all annoyance. Words that he knew in his detached awareness, that held emotional meaning. This warm prison was feeling these emotions. Run! HIDE! FLEE! appeared in front of him, as the view changed once again.
He had been looking through his small windows to the world beyond at a strange thing. a sharp corner, shaded sandy brown. It rose up, and down. And then the view focused, and the monsters shifted into view.
It was a slow process, the change in view. From that sandy brown that colored everything he could remember seeing before; buildings, benches, dry fountains, all of it that same sandy brown color. And when the view changed, from near to far, it settled upon those that moved within the sandy brown environment. Odd, distorted shapes. Eyes that blazed with the fury of the sun held within their heads. Two single pinpricks of the sun, blazing forth.
His view now changed once again, he is turning. No! I am turning. Am I? Is that me? I know not! Does He have it? Do I have it? he echoes to himself. The view shakes, the shapes move past at a faster rate. Strange things blur in and out of the view.
pain!
the view changed another time. from a long strange tunnel of sandy brown rising high up to the bright blue above, to one of darkness. Sandy brown once again, but this time, faded hues of yellows, blues, reds, and other colors beyond show within the room. The view stays still for a moment, and the awareness tries to push forward. to focus, nothing more. and yet
PAIN AHHHHHHHH something, something terrible presses upon the awareness, shakes it horribly. Objects lift again, covering the view, bringing blackness to the awareness.
NO! LET ME SEE! LET ME SEE
NO! YOU CANNOT! YOU SHALL NOT! I COMMAND! a sound comes from outside the view, yet echoed perfectly in pitch and tone inside next to the awareness, overwhelming everything within the mindscape.
pain pain pain pain these words flicker over and around the awareness.
The view changes, and comes into focus. The color red distorts other colors of blue and yellow upon something.
A body. My body the detached awareness says without emotion.
MY BODY! the sound comes again, large and heavy, pressing upon the awareness.
The view changes again, shifting rapidly, changing. Edges and curves fill the view.
directions movement the awareness says once again, deducing the rapidly changing view as to fast paced movement.
running it says once more.
More shapes appear and disapear as the view changes many, many more times. left right left left forward back forward right as if keeping track.
the sandy brown colors changer to darkness. Nothing had changed otherwise.
the awareness still felt movement. still felt change around it. odd sensations began to build, forward itself. forward its awareness. reaching out, stretching forward. hands. feels with hands the awareness says in its usual detched voice.
the sensation of slow movement forward stops. Another sound begins to creep into the area that holds the awareness. Subtle at first, but slowly it builds to a large heavy roar. but built into that roar is another sound, holding a fast rhythym.
breath. Breathing fast. heart. heart beating fast.
The sound continues, for eternity. for a second. for an unknown length of time. yet, as this moment continues, the roaring rapid sound begins to slow. the heavy roar, and the fast rythmic beat. Both begin to slow, becoming lesser and lesser.
Finally the rhythm is at an easy, steady beat. the roar is subtle, quiet. yet the awareness now sees sounding flicker across the area. At first, nothing, nothing happens. the sound stretches long, far longer than it could be capable of. the roar inside stops, held shut by something. sound sound sound sound pressure urge sound more pressure more sound more pressure sound and suddenly followed by noise flicks. noise noise scratch click
The monsters. they come
yes. the voice responds.
movement and the presence of movement fills the awareness void.
The view is still black, still dark, still devoid of shapes and colors. until
brighter the awareness supplies helpfully.
shut up the voice responds
I merely attempt to help
i said shut up! the voice says once again.
pain
you- you hit me
I hit myself!
The view comes back into focus. slowly, the light brightens, first providing subtle color changes. darkness turns to black, turns to blues and blacks, then to dark greens and blues, and more, as the view pushes closer and closer to the source of the light.The light is faint. On a moonlit night, it would pale in comparisson. yet in the darkness of this area, it is bright enough.
sound sound sound sound sound sound sound-[s] it carries on and on inside the awareness, flashing across the void.
the view changes. Objects change. walls. ceiling. floor. moving floor. Moving floor?[i]
moving floor?
the last is shock and surprise to both the awareness and the voice beyond, echoed thrice in sync.
[i]rippling
water the voice says as the view begins to grow dim, darkening. the view changes again.
[s]pain pain pain pain
the awareness, seeing this, presses forward, and as it expands, it gains more awareness of itself.
I hurt.
the voice coughs.
I hurt. stomach. knees. hands. feet. throat. back
the view shifts again, and there, a darkened color. The dimness of the light isnt able to provide full context of the strangely growing pool of liquid under the darkened fabric hanging from the individual.
a hand, controled by someone me? him? and presses against the stomach. PAIN! a gasp is heard. the hand recoils from the sharpness. the body clenches, bringing forth more pain. again and again and again and again
The view grows darker still.
How? why? the awareness wonders
the hand moves once more, and feels gently upon the stomach. Soft flesh my stomach is first felt, and then a hardness. A hardness that shouldnt be there. hard, firm. The hand explores. It feels the firmness, moving slightly away from the stomach. minor movement, and a new feeling is felt upon the tips of the fingers. harder, yet smoother than the previous firmness. A shape. a shape to this hardness. Thin. Flat. narrow. Wide at one end, pointed on the other. Sharp upon the thin, upon the point.
what- arrow? I have been shot?
The vison, once dimming, surges into clarity. The dimness of the available light suddenly grows bright! Dull, washed out colors suddenly flash into clear focus! The Awareness and the Void collapse, and the presence within joins that without.
the combined essence scream in agony as pain fills awareness and existence!
Not pain from the stomach! But from the thigh!
Blood and ashes! both scream, and as one reach behind and feel the source of the pain. Another arrow sticks through the right leg, digging deep into flesh and sunk deep into bone.
Tuatha'an Even your kind know not to despoil this place. a voice says dispassionately.
Only those who seek to be Wise ones or Clan Chieftans can enter. Few survive. No outsider is allowed. Even you, Tuatha'an
That name! Tuatha'an! the voice, now one, thinks to itself, and realization comes crashing into his head.
He rears back, knees and feet still upon the floor, as his backside sits upon his calves. the arrow thats embedded into the thigh sinks deeper, but that pain is ignored as the man screams as one who fully comes out of a walking dream!
he screams again.
He twists at his waist, and flings his arm from back to front, and an object flies out from his hand. It arcs into the air waist high, before falling to the ground. Yet it doesnt land upon the hard earth. It lands fully into the flowing water passing through this underground chamber. From one end to the other it flows, exposed in this purpose build chamber. The object splashes into the water, submerging below the surface, and for a moment it is gone from sight. seconds later it reappears, bobbing up and along the shallow waterway before disappearing from sight beyond the next wall.
Creator! guide that bottle to- the man suddenly cuts short his speech. A third arrow, shot from an unseen man or woman, pierces his throat. he gurgles, clutching at his throat before falling to the ground, dead.
The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass leaving memories that become legend, then fade to myth, and are long forgot when that Age comes again. In one Age, called the Third Age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a wind rose upon the waves of the Aryth Ocean. The wind was not the beginning. There are neither beginnings nor endings to the turning of the Wheel of Time. But it was a beginning.
The wind blew lazily over the choppy waters below, spray mist rising high into the air, as if reaching for the heavens above before falling back into the waters below. Over and over it happens, again and again, wave upon wave, crashing, splashing, combining with others, disapating. Over and more, the spray is lifted and thrown, and while most of it falls to the ocean below, some stays aloft, rising high into the clouds.
South west of the mainland, far over the horizon, the mist drifted and grew. It was soon joined by other mists that were sent up above, and more and more of the small water gathered together, high up in the sky. At first they were white, bright and feathery, simple strips in the sky. Yet soon, as more mist flung up from the ocean below, it grew, into large cotton balls hung on high, moving lazily in the sky.
North and east it traveled, and larger did it grow. It's reach grew to extend from horizon to horizon, and could look down upon the blue below and see the curvature of the world, as if the very realm bent under the size of the grand shape. Far, far below, beneath the mists of grandeure's attention, brown shapes flow before the winds that push the mighty clouds up above. Large and small, with large billowing sails, they crawl along at a set pace, alone in the great blue beyond.
The wind and the mist, combined as one, push on, leaving the travelers to their own fate and fortune. North and west it further travels, over small islands dotting here and there.
Finally, it hovers, dark on the horizon. Angry with greys and reds from the setting sun, it creeps, slowly up the horizon. Closer and closer, a large blob, so large and massive it stretches from horizon to the very tip of the sky! A giant wall of rolling air and water, it announces itself with bright bolts of light! they cascade throughout its mass, illuminating the bulk from within, and strikes down upon the waters below in a dazzling display.
Soon, the thunder is heard, heavy and concussive. It echoes over the water, and shakes the buildings upon the shore. Closer and closer it gets, until finally it makes land fall upon the shores of Illian.
The mist that was flung up into the sky so many, many miles before, falls to the ground. joined with many others of its kind, it falls thick and heavy, making a loud impacting sound. At first its just one, but many follow behind it, and soon all of Illian is drenched in a tropical storm.
The thunder hammers close to the city, not more than a mile a way, the thunder shakes the buildings throughout all of the city. In such a building, a small tavern called the wet sky serves you a cool meal. The people who sit around the tavern are neither friend or foe, but all are potential competitors to the grandest of prizes! The guarantee of Infamy to find the Horn of Valere!
The Oath was an easy one, an easy oath to swear to. To find the Horn, until my last fateful breath, to sound the horn at Tarmon Gai'don, no sooner except in death.
Peace, good food. Safety, for a time.
Luce sits by herself on one of the communal benches. Something about a woman with white hair shaved almost to her skull seems to put people off, even in a place like Illian where strange folk have gathered deliberately. Still, it gives her space to eat and the serving maids are attentive so she easily gets the second helping she wants and is considering a third when one of her much despised lessons rears in her mind.
Go to others girl. Child Hartor had told her firmly. Men speak to women who show interest in them. And many of the witches have perversions of their own. Use everything you have, it is for the benefit of the Light!
Some of Hartor's advice had been good but Luce found herself still sitting, hesitating and unsure of how to begin, even as her third helping of meat arrives on her plate.
'Well, this is why I'm here. May as well get to it.' Looking around the room Kunala notes a variety of curious individuals. 'By the light, an ogier, is he hunting for the horn? He pushes the plate away from himself, dropping his napkin on it. The fresh crabs were nice, but nothing as good as what he'd get in Edou Dar. Of course if he had his way, it would be a long time before he had fresh crabs at home again. Looking toward his companion and doctor, he gestures his head towards the room. "This is as good of a place as any to start, right?"
Standing up in front of the table, Kunala adjusted the red silk jacket slung about his shoulders. Confident that when folks see his jeweled dagger clearly visible tucked in the matching red sash they'll know he's from Edou Dar. Resisting the urge to tuck his hands in the pockets of his long light-brown embroidered vest, the twenty-something young man begins to speak. Ruining the moment with a deep hacking cough, he glances at the man with him. Looking back at those in the room, clearing his throat, he continues.
"My name is Kunala Varima of Malden. My grandmother is Lady Cairen of Malden and I intend to find the horn" Pausing he clears his throat again, his pale face getting slightly paler. "I will finance six fellow hunters to go with me." He reaches into the inner pocket of his vest. "I have been studying ter'angreal most of my life and I have developed contacts throughout the west." Pulling out a letter, he holds it up like an affidavit. "I am in contact with scholars who have locations of ter'angreal hidden through history." Holding the letter down to his side, he smiles. "Why start cold when we can search locations we know were schools or homes or museums where ter'angreal were kept. If your interested in learning more, please join my associate and I."
He looks around the room again, making eye contact with a woman with white hair shaved almost to her skull. Nodding politely, he sits down, waiting to see if she will join them.
Ceirn sits as unobtrusively as possible in the bustling room. Few in the room had come anyone near his homeland and the room was filled with outsiders so he felt relatively safe from scrutiny. As Kunala stands up to give his small speech, the Aiel listened attentively. Many others had made some braggadocious comments, but this man at least had a plan of where to begin looking. Or at least he claimed to.
Ceirn considered his options for a few moments more. He had little knowledge of this part of the world. He had no real leads to go on, and pressing matters to attend to soon. If this stranger did in fact have information that could help expedite the search then it was worth investigating. So Ceirn rose and moved to join the other man keeping his cloak closed as he moved through the crowded room.
When he reaches the man's table, Ceirn says, "I am curious about this information you have obtained."
Janus is easily recognizable as a Borderlander, although it is clear he has been in the south long enough to have adopted the clothing if not the mannerisms.
The warder begins to scan the room, his eyes start to dart from person to person when he almost hears Hammar's voice. 'Janus, you need to be able to fade into a crowd as well as you do the woods. Find your center, stop calling attention to yourself. You'll do your sister no favors by drawing attention.'
He breathes in and imagines a single point of light surrounded by the void, he becomes the light protected by the void from the world around him. he opens he eyes again and waits for Niketsu Sedai.
Ignoring the sudden sounds of thunder outside the Tavern's strong windows, Adroushan absently nods to his companion's inquiry. The young Ebou Dari; dressed in professional attire, complete with a knee length jacket and spectacles, holds tightly to his coffee with both shaking hands.
Anything to rid ourselves of this establishment.
Adroushan's blue eyes dart from cup of ale to glass of red wine to shot of spirits with anguish and just a bit of temptation in them.
The Doctor's blue eyes do grow a bit bigger when the obviously an Aiel approaches the table. Adroushan turns to Kunala.
Seems interested.
Dark eyes like small saucers follow the man in the silken jacket as he rises to his feet in front of the table. The eyes belong to a hulking figure, as tall seated as most men standing; with a broad face and broader nose. Drooping mustaches that mimic the long, drooping eyebrows give him an almost comical look. The figure is dressed in simple shirt and breeches, though a long coat is draped over the back of the immense chair in which he sits. Long, tufted ears which poke through the shaggy mass of dark-golden hair twitch occasionally as he listens to the well dressed Ebou Dari’s spiel.
The figure turns his chair to face the table from the next one over, apologizing to one of the serving girls as he nearly bumps into her. When she has gone, he looks as if he is about to speak a couple times when, curiously, what appeared to be an Aielman spoke first:
"I am curious about this information you have obtained."
The large figure nods and finally speaks, his voice a deep drone as he interjects before Kunala can respond. ”I too am curious, Kunala Varima of Malden.” He looks nonplussed for a moment, as if not quite sure what to say next. Then adds, ”I am Morel, son of Kolom, son of Serden.”
Chuckling at Adroushan's comment, Kunala returned his gaze towards the white haired woman. Catching movement from the corner of his eye, he looks away from the woman and see's a man in a sand-colored scarf-like garment beginning to move their direction. 'Blood and ashes, that's an Aiel!' Realizing the man approaching was Aiel, Kunala does a double take to make sure he did not have a black veil over his face. As the unveiled Aiel moved across the room holding his cloak closed, Kunala looked away momentarily at his companion as the good doctor comments. Trying to stay calm he nods. "Interesting indeed."
Standing to greet the man, Kunala wasn't sure if he should extend his hand or not, starting to reach out then startes to put the hand in his pocket then gesturing toward a chair. "I'll be happy to give you enough information to whet your appetite." Seeing the Ogier begin to move, he looked from the Aiel to Adroushan. "We may need more room." Pulling the table back a little as the Ogier approached, he gestured towards a seat. "A pleasure to meet you Kolom, son of Serden."
Retaking his seat, he laid the letter on the table. Looking at it, he quickly folded it to about a fourth of it's size. Turning it so those interested could read the words. "This is a letter sent to me by a contact of mine, he is a Owner of a very specialized bookstore." As the others begin to read the list, Kunala draws the gray stone out of his pocket. Waiving at the waitress, he asks, "Would you bring me a large bowl of cold water?"
"The tomb is called Items of Legend: A compiled list of known items of the One Power. It has several lists, explaining how the items were compiled and where. This is an excerpt from one of the inventory spreadsheets. Notice the third item:
Irory rod: location Tear
Inlaid ruby walking staff: location Museum of antiquities, tanchico
Gray stone with orange quartz stripe: house of Varima in Malden
Turning back to the others. "I realize this doesn't seem like much proof and I know your next question is who and where is this man." Kunala gives a light shrug. "That's all information that will be shared as needed. Right now what you need to know Is I'm dead serious about financing the journey, that I'm a sworn 'Hunter of the Horn,' that I've been studying about ter'angreal my whole adult life and by the light I am not lying to you."
As the waitress brings the bowl of water, he drops the stone into it. Waiting a second, he touches the water, then gestures towards the others to touch it. "That's the stone I located after I read his letter. It was the same day we learned of the "Hunt for the Horn." See for yourself it's heating the water. It's a ter'angreal." He looks towards the others, pausing looking each in the eyes. "And my associate has a book full of lists of where their kept, we just have to go get it."
Get yourself together girl. He just invited people over, and look an ogier! You aren't going to be the strangest person in that group by any means!
With that comforting thought ringing in her mind Luce collects her plate and mug, moving quietly over to the now busy table and slipping into place on the far side. She nods towards the nobleman who had been giving her an inquisitive look and settles in to listen.
She reaches for the water and touches, not the water itself but the bowl. The gentle warmth makes her nod. "I believe you sir. I'll ride with you."
Good. Remembered the manners.
Adroushan just shakes his head, as their table becomes a throng. The just under 6' and wiry built human male appears both nervous and excited at the same time. His furtive blue eyes continually dodging those passing by with heavily laden drinks in their hands.
He greets those now dipping their fingers into Kunala's bowl of water.
I am Adroushan. I am Kunala's physician. May the Light shine on you all.
The Ebou Dari smiles weakly at the mentioning of his having a book of lists.
Pushing her chair back, a short, stout brunette woman stands to her feet. That's a fine idea you have there, my lord. Why spend the time doing the hard work when you can have something that tells you where things are. I am interested in this as well. she saunters over, pulls up a chair, and sits down next to Kunala, a big smirk upon her face. The smell of heavy perfume fills the air as she settles in.
A moment later, the waitress brings out a soup bowl, filled with water. She looks at everyone, rather, she looks at everyone's drinks before finally nodding and slipping back into the kitchen to grab something.
The Ebou Dari smiles weakly at the mentioning of his having a book of lists.
Distracted for a moment when he sees a man get up and leave, Kuanal smiles as the short stout brunette moves over to his table. He wrinkles his nose, choking back a sneeze as he smells her perfume. Taking in a short breath he tries to sound agreeable nodding. "I thought so as well, A lifetime worth of study paying off." He holds the letter so she can see the invoice's lists, gesturing towards Adroushan with his other hand. "May I introduce my personal physician Adroushan." He gestures towards the ogier seated with them "And Morel, son of Kolom...um, son of Serden?"
He looks at the white haired woman and the Aiel, indicating the question was applicable to them as well, then looking back at the brunette, "And you are?"
Ceirn keeps an eye on the door as he waits for the man to return with whoever, or whatever, he went to retrieve.
"I am Ceirn. It is a pleasure to meet you Kunala and Adroushan." He replies as he takes a seat that lets him continue to keep an eye on the door.
Janus looks to Niketsu then to the door and back to her with a question in his eye.
Adroushan sighs, as he notices a man leave out from the front door. The Doctor assumes that it may have something to do with his patient's perchance for advertisements.
We may have trouble. That fellow just left at an opportune time, I wager.
The Ebou Dari sighs even heavier.
I need a drink.
Adroushan looks Kunala in the eyes directly at that statement.
Smiling as he stands, takes a drink off the next table, downs it without a thought, replaces it, smiles at the starring patron(s), tosses a silver mark into the empty glass, and makes his way to the exit.
On his way to the exit, he repeats that procedure twice more....
Sighing a third time, the young Wilder exits the tavern....
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Niketsu meets her warder's eyes for a moment, acknowledging that she saw the man as well, but reacts with only the barest shake of her head to indicate she does not want anything done about him at present.
A young woman, calling her a girl might even be applicable, walks over to the table where the new group is gathering. She is small and slight, looking too young to be in such company alone. Indeed, a man follows closely behind her, though whether her chaperone or bodyguard is not immediately apparent. She is dressed in finely stitched dress of silver and blue, divided for riding. It is of a rugged and serviceable cut, suitable perhaps to a prosperous merchant or lower Nobility, if such were intending to set out on a long journey. Her hair names her an Arafellan, two long braids of black hair hanging past her waist, small bells strung throughout chiming softly as she moves.
Besides her youth, perhaps the most striking feature of her is that she carries a sword in her left hand. Her companion carries his own, and from the familiarity of her grasp, it would seem the blade is hers. It is a long but slight blade, curving within the lacquered scabbard, which glows with a high polish over a lustrous blue. The scabbard cord is wound around her hand in a familiar manner, and instead of a frog or baldrik, she wears a wide belt of silk, wrapped about her waist many times upon itself.
"It is fine to meet you, Lord Kunala. I am Niketsu, of house Jinsai, sister to Lord Nagoyu of Arafel. This is my Shambayan, Janus.
Her voice is light and chiming, not unlike the bells in her hair. Her speech also seems to indicate someone well educated.
"Do you truly have a Ter'Angreal? Every fragment of the age of Legends is a rare and wonderous thing!"
The dips her fingers I to the bowl to see if she can feel the water warming, her senses reaching out to see if she can tell whether the thing actually is a thing of Power, or if this man might be a charlatan.
"You believe this trove of ter'angreal might lead us to the horn? Each object of power is a treasure, to be sure, but what makes you think something as well known as the horn might be among them? People have quested for it for millenia, surely if anyone had seen it, it would become known..."
Morel watches the petite human woman as she dips her fingers in the bowl, as he had watched each in turn. "A fair question..." he says while looking at their impromptu host.
Adroushan accidently bumps into the table situated just inside his lane of progression. That accidental bump causes the various drinks on said table to begin to clatter and shatter. The now irate patrons (most likely fellow Hunters) spatially stand and stutter and stammer at the rude Ebou Dari youth!
Adroushan (forgetting his previous intention) decides that these gentlemen are in real need of a proper lesson on how to imbibe your alcohol!
My fellow Hunters for the Horn! We are about to embark on an adventure for the legends!
He smiles at each of them.
So, what are we drinking!
And he orders rounds for the house!
Adroushan winks at Kanula.
Luce rapidly finds herself out of her social depth, once more and more people pile into the conversation so she simply stays silent. Once quiet reigns once more she speaks softly.
"My name is Luce. I'm from Amadacia. I have some skill with weapons." And I was trained by the Children to kill witches. No. Don't mention that.
Turnng from the stout bruenette as the Aiel gives his name, Kunala not really sure what the proper greeting to an aiel would be nods politly and adds "A pleasure Ceirn."
He turns as the good doctor rises, 'Now where's he going?' Watching Adrousan for a moment he realizes a young lady in a blue dress and braids carring a curved sword with a borderlander, wearing a similar blade, following on her heels were approaching. Standing to greet the couple, Kunala raises an eyebrow at the honorific of 'Lord' Not know exactly what a Shambayan was or the proper greeting for these two either, he gestures towards two of the empty seats, adding simply, "A pleasure, but just Kunala please, Won't you join us?" While he makes a mental note to learn enough about the Aiel, Northerners and Ogier not to offend any of them. A duel at this time would be really inconvenient.
As he takes his seat, Kunala Tries to choke back a deep cought, 'Not now, Where did Adroushan get to?' As he begins to look for the doctor, Kunala realizes Niketsu was reaching for the bowl to see for herself if he really had a Ter'Angreal or not. Returning his gaze to the lovely young lady as she asks her question, he glances towards the hulking figure of Morel, smiling, "Fair enough indeed. My hypothisis is to identify and find places where known Ter'Angreal's have been collected: museums, private collections possibly looted hoards. It is very possible that the horn was stored in such a place. What collector of Ter'Angreal wouldn't want the horn? Though I doubt any would make it public...
Hearing the ruckus as Adroushan nearly tips over the table, Kunala's eyes grow wide as he doctor offers to purchase a round for the house, on Kunala's tab of course. 'I wish he wouldn't do that.' Sighing he looks back to those sitting at the table when the shy white haired woman speaks up. Nodding "A pleasure Luce of Amadacia."
He then turns to the stout brunette, waiting to see if she gives her name as well.
The brunette looks up from her observation of the bowl and the magik trick, notices everyone practically pausing to look at her. She swallows litely, and simply says Brindie. Name's Brindie. Where I am from is not important, but where I, or rather, we she waves her hand at everyone gathered around the table, are going
In the small bowl of water, steam quickly begins to lift out and away from the water. Brindie reaches out and dabs her finger in, as Niketsu is graceful and hesitant, Brindie just plunges her hand in without regard. She hisses and moans slightly as she shakes the water away from her hand. OUCH! that is hot! She looks from the bowl to Kunala, and at the paper. She reaches out and snags it out of his hand, holding it up to look at it. well, that is interesting. A guy who has a book with a list of ter'angreal. And you say that just based on what he wrote here, you were able to find a ter'angreal?
"That was quite rude." Ceirn says to the woman as she looks at the paper, "It would be good if you returned it to him now."
Ceirn continued to keep an eye on the door expecting the man who spoke to her to return soon and did not want her to retain the paper when he did. The wetlanders did not practice Ji'e'toh, but for one to act so flagrantly did not speak highly of the woman.
The young woman gets a somewhat disappointed look on her face, "The prophecy says that the horn will be found only in time for the last battle; not that it will be found and kept locked away until the last battle. It seems by implication that it will be found somewhere no one has lived or explored since it was lost."
Adroushan smiles disarmingly at the more irate gentleman. The youthful Ebou Dari even bows low, dances to the bar, orders a pitcher of beer, and returns to the table.
May the Light shine on your livers. Enjoy! And, good luck on your Hunt.
The Doctor then returns (a bit tipsy) to Kanula's table with a fresh drink and a grin.
Been busy. You, girl! How 'bout you keep yer hands to yerself!
Adroushan whispers to Kanula.
So, we could retire elsewhere to further discus things?
Nodding in agreement with the young noblelady, "Yes, found only in time. My hypothesis is that it was located but not identified, places with other Ter'angreal which were lost to time again. The book I'm going to purchase is very old and most of the original locations lost or destroyed." He watches as Brindie puts her hand in the water, turning back to Niketsu. "That stone has been in my families household for generations. No one knew what it was or what it did. But this book identified....Hey!"
'I should not have been waiving it around, even if it has nothing other than the short list.' Turning to glare at Brindie, but the effect being cut off by a coughing fit. Pulling a silk hankie from his vest pocket and wiping his mouth, the best Kunala could muster was speaking after Ceirn and the returning Adroushan.
"Madam, if we were in Ebou Dar I would be within my rights to invite you to a dueling ground. As it is, I'll invite you to give me the letter back and keep your hands to yourself or return to your table," Returning the hankie to his pocket, he gestures towards the others seated there. "I believe we seven would be plenty for what I have in mind."
Hearing his doctor whispered message, Kunala looks from the doctor to he woman. The hand that was holding the letter out on the table open, he lifts the other using his index finger to signal to the good doctor to wait a moment until the woman returns the letter.
Brindie looks first at Ceirn, and then at the dark glare that comes from Adroushan as he admonishes the woman. Biting her lip and clenching her jaw, she hands it back to Kunala. Her face flushes with anger, and she says to him Perhaps. But it looks like as if you wouldnt last longer than one thrust. She sits back from the table, her hands placed upon her lap.
hearing Kunala mention seven, she looks around at everyone. But there's eight of us here. You offered six spots. Obviously, since your offering to finance, Wouldnt it behoove you to figure out who amongst us here that would provide you with the best opportunity for success? Perhaps Lady Lucy over there isnt as good with them blades as she portrays? I think, in fairness to your financial investment, wouldnt it best to figure out who's the better option? And follow up question: where would we be going?
Luce's head snaps up at hearing her name, and her mildly surprised look narrows into a glare when her name is mangled after she specifically went to the effort of making pronouncing it clearly.
She doesn't say anything though, just glares.
Janus steps back and to the left of Niketsu in the proper position of a Shambayan, to imply that he should not be counted, he also uses this as an opportunity to shield his sword hand from Brindie.
'impertinent' Accepting the letter back from Brindle, Kunala tucks it in his vest pocket, 'One would be all I need.' While Brindle blathered on he made eye contact with Adroushan. 'The good doctor said we needed to speak.' Realizing Brindle had just mispronounce Luce's name, he looked up in time to see her glare at Brindle. 'Oh, I like her, I like her a lot.' Glancing from the white haired woman to the 'Shabayan.' Kunala quickly waived a finger and tsk'd at him. "Hey stop moving back there Janus, it was Janus right. I understand you wouldn't go without her and she without you. But I get to pick who the 'other five are' no one else." He turns to Brindle, "And I 'll start with folks that don't insult me or those with me. I don't like mean people, there are too many of them and life is too short."
He looks towards Adroushan, and nods towards the bar. Standing, "I need to speak with my Doctor. He's the first of the six. Talk amongst yourselves, when we get back we'll finalize the conversation." He waives at the waitress who had brought him the bowl of water. Picking the stone out of said bowl. "Thank you for the bowl, I'm buying another round for these folks, if you'd like to find out what their drinking." Tucking the stone in a pocket, he nods to Adroushan to meet him at the end of the bar.
Ceirn sits quietly and watches the door. The woman had given the paper back, and seemed intent on going with Kunala. Ceirn thought it likely that even if the man who had spoken to her was not gathering others or setting up an ambush, the woman would still pose a problem if she was not invited to tag along.
Altogether, Ceirn was not sure coming to this table would prove all that wise a decision. But leaving now might draw more unwanted attention, and he still had no real idea where to go beyond this anyway.
Adroushan nods in acceptance of the girl Bridle's response and return of the list. The Wilder studies her body position, mannerisms, and tone of voice to further glimpse any possible motives, truth behind her bravado.
The Doctor then nods to Kunala's request of deferring conversation until they further remove themselves a bit from the table. He nods to Luce.
Madam Loo-chay, Madam Niketsu, of house Jinsai, and Mister Janus, Morel, son of Kolom, son of Serden, and Ceirn; please excuse our absence for a moment.
Adroushan then walks away with Kunala to a less crowded place at the back of the building, but in eyesight of their table and the door.
Lifting a random shot to his mouth and downing it with a toss of a professional, Adroushan whispers to Kanala.
Do we want absolute privacy?
The Doctor lifts yet another shot to his mouth with a wicked grin at his employer.
I can.
Nodding to the others as Adroushan obviously intentionally leaves Brindle out of his comment, Seamus still a little annoyed with the woman, walks over to the bar with his friend. Shaking his head 'no' when asked about absolute privacy. "No this is good enough, what did you want to discuss?"
Adroushan shows a bit of disappointment, but he perks right back up as a server passes by with a tray of shot glasses filled with who cares! He downs one, while holding another.
Fine. Perhaps, if we take her she can do less damage to our venture? She will be a problem either way.
Adroushan downs the second shot.
Oh, by the way; could be nothing, but, I noticed a man leave out from the front door after our throng began to manifest.
The Doctor then nods to their table.
I like them though, it will be a strange troope.
'That's the devils own luck, we both noticed the man leave.' Coughing a little, Kunala draws out his silk hankie from his vest pocket, "I've never dueled a woman and I don't want to start now. I think we'd be better of without her. But your right, I think the other five would round us out to seven. A good number." Nodding to his friend Kunala returns to the table.
--------------------------
Seeing the waitress returning with a few drinks he asks, "Would you happen to have a bottle of red from Malden, I'd like to make a toast with my new associates."
As he sits down he looks around the table, at those sitting then those standing. "I was hoping to add five people to our number to make it seven. Do any of you have any other questions either for myself or each other before I make my decision?"
Luce shakes her head, finally breaking the glare she has directed at Brindle. She has nothing else to ask, at least for now.
Ciern shrugs and says, "How long do you think it will take to reach this site that you have in mind?"
Noting the white haired Luce nodding her head, Kunala turn to the Aiel named Ceirn, looking to the ogier, then Brindie. Contemplating what he should say.
Seeing the waitress had brought a bottle of his families wine he smiles, then winces when he counts eight empty glasses. Smiling he lifts the one glass setting it back on her tray, "we won't be needing this one." Taking the bottle in hand, he begins to work the cork out with his thumb tips. He smiles, "Family's wine, theirs an easy trick to the cork."
Then he looks to Ceirn and casually lies, "The trip will take two to three months."
Adroushan accepts one of the seven red wine filled glasses from Kunala. He raises it.
To mark our venture as Hunters for the Horn!
He clinks glasses with those toasting before downing his entirely.
Should be fun.
Ceirn pauses to consider the time and the obligation the trip would take, but seeing little other option other then moving as directionless as swirling sand he nods and takes up his drink to join in the toast. As he toasts Ceirn says, "I look forward to traveling with you."
Luce accepts the glass and sips without being sure what to actually say.
"Thank you." No, that's not enough. Say something else.
"I look forward to traveling with you all." No! Too late. He said it first. Oh well. Drink the wine and stop talking now.
'A noblewoman and her Shambayan, though he looks more like a body guard to me, An ogier, an Aiel and an armored mercenary woman. Quite a diverse group.' As he pours the cheap wine into the goblets, he looks to the short stout brunette. "Brindie, after speaking with my doctor and confidante," He gestures towards the others, "We aggree that these others are who we're selecting to take with us." He gives a brief polite smile that does not touch his eyes. "Thank you for your inquiry, may the light bless you in your future endeavors." He nods, letting her know she's been dismissed. Smiling waiting for her to depart. 'Unless they interfere with what we're doing.'
Nodding to Luce as she thanks him, "I look forward to this as well." Chuckling at the speed at which Adroushan is picking up is glass, Kunala begins to serve those who hadn't picked up a glass yet, "You'll have to forgive the wine, I realize it's not really very good, but it does taste like home and I don't plan on being there anytime soon. Holding the glass up and clinking it with the others, he watches Brindie from the corner of his eye.
Brindie studiously ignores Luce, looking everywhere but at the woman.
watching Kunala remove the wine glass from the table with his comment, she slouches in the chair, defeated.
Fine. I can take a hint. She pushes back quickly from the table, her chair skidding back several inches from the force of her motion. She looks at everyone, except Luce, and then leaves the table. She wanders through the tables and approaches the men sitting at another table. Buy me a drink for a lady? she says sweetly, and the men nod. One of them lifts his hand up and motions to the waitress to bring more alcohol to them. Brindie slips around the table and sits down in a chair, facing your table.
"This place has grown crowded. It might be easier to talk somewhere that is more quiet so that we can ensure we have what we need to start the journey." Ceirn says as he keeps an out for the man who originally left.
"Agreed, Morel rumbles as softly as he can while taking one of the glasses and leaning in closer to Kunala. "I suspect she is not alone, and possibly is gathering more from outside as we speak. At least it seemed to me someone was sent out on an unknown 'errand' before she came over here."
Adroushan nods in agreement to Kanula's decision. The Doctor nods a farewell to Brindie, as she is dismissed.
When she violently pushes away from the table, the Wilder immediately embraces Saidin!
His blue eyes never leaving her movements, Adroushan decides that information is needed. He forms a Weave.
The Wilder directs it to Brindie's table....
He absently lifts a drink to his lips.
Janus smoothly steps around Niketsu to pick up two of the glasses, taking a sip of his before handing the second to the sister.
Niketsu gives Janus a slight bow in thanks before taking the goblet. She takes a small sip, letting the flavour roll over her tongue for a moment. She was not any particularly fine judge of wines; vineyards in the Borderlands were close to non-existant. She had been amazed at the variety given even to novices when she had first arrived at the white tower.
"I am perhaps skeptical of your theory, Sir, but the possibility of a trove of ter'angreal has potential all of its own, even if the horn is not at the end of the journey. Although, I suppose that as it has yet to be found, the journey that succeeds in finding the horn may be one that is thought to have little success of finding it, as the obvious places will have already been searched. We will accompany you."