A Calling [Attn: Lugh]

The World outside the Grey Tower is a vast place.
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Bella
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Re: A Calling [Attn: Lugh]

Post by Bella » June 11th, 2019, 11:53 pm

"No one is perishing today," Isla growled, panting and out of breath but no less determined than she'd been when she walked into this mess.

Many soldiers were dead. Many soldiers were still alive. The latter were gathering now and preparing to descend upon those who had wreaked such havoc and killed their fellows. "Be ready to run," the Aes Sedai said, her voice low but it would brook no argument. She took a deep breath and rallied what reserves of energy she had left.

She was no Cloud Dancer by any means, but any channeler could mix some Water and Air and make something proximate to fog. It didn't have to seem natural, it just had to be thick. She layered everything quickly around the three of them, working to fully obscure the view of those around them.

Just as her 'net' of fog sealed itself, another face broke the horizon.

This one...she recognized well. This one...she knew. This one...she often thought of, sometimes with love and sometimes with loathing.

"Isla?" She could hear his voice even across the distance.

With a choked scream, she sealed her wall. "Run!" she hissed at the others, turning and fleeing through the only clear path left to them that would take them into the trees once again without anyone being able to spot them or where they went.

The fog wouldn't hold long, nor would it hold them for long.

Nothing held her father back for long.

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Re: A Calling [Attn: Lugh]

Post by Lugh » June 12th, 2019, 5:09 pm

Beron Beron felt Isla set her mind to doing whatever it was she had planned. He smiled with a fierce pride as he watched her gather herself, catch her breath and begin. He could tell from the sudden change in the air, the cold and wind coming around them that she was channeling, and he moved between her and their foes. He would watch for errants arrows or even a desperately tossed knife, afford her time to do what she could.

Sudden fog descended between them and the others, the soldiers cursing and swearing as they lost all view. But just before that, Beron felt as intense an emotion as he had ever felt from Isla. Love and loathing mixed, and he could feel it strong enough he mirrored her heart for a moment before she gathered herself, and hissed "Run."

"Go love, I will be right behind you, take the woman now. Go," Beron said as Isla nodded and ran for the trees. The older woman was hurt as well, her movements awkward at first but Beron had to admit she was tenacious. She ran with as much speed as she could muster, while Beron took a few key moments to try and muddle their tracks.

As the noise continued on the other side, he hazard a guess and with a heave tossed his dagger through the fog. It was off handed and blind, but the curses as the soldiers cried out to each other to find cover made him smile. They would wait for a few moments longer, worried he was hiding in the wall of fog.

With that thought in mind, Beron then made his way for Isla. His thigh burned from his wound, and his shoulder ached from a bloody gash he had not even felt until the heat of battle began to fade from him. But he had learned to endure hardship and pain, so he let his mind fall back into the ko'di .

Silence fell over the three as they ran, the trees thankfully thickening shortly past the land cleared for the farm. As he followed Isla, he stayed in the rearguard and kept his senses alert for the sounds of pursuit.
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Re: A Calling [Attn: Lugh]

Post by Bella » June 16th, 2019, 3:07 pm

They ran.

They were, all three of them, exhausted and in pain. But they ran. The Children of the Light would give them no quarter, and there would be no mercy. All would end up executed before they saw another dawn, with the channelers bearing the brunt of the torture before the end. The state of their bodies did not matter, because they had to run.

At one point, Isla thought she heard their pursuers. She couldn't be sure, but she would take no chances.

Shooting a look over her shoulder, she flung her arm in a wide arc and sent the heaviest, clumsiest wave of Air that she'd ever cast in her life and sent it like a wind that would not be stopped. She hoped it knocked them all on their asses, but she wouldn't give herself the luxury of waiting to see.

Instead, she just kept running.

It felt like they fled for days, that eons had come on gone, when it was probably less than a half-hour of outright fleeing mixed with circuitous routes and a cross through a stream against potential dogs before they found where the rest of the escapees had fled and were hiding themselves behind trees. One particularly ambitious, small woman was burrowed in a cluster of large routes.

"I think we lost them," Isla gasped, falling to her knees and catching herself with her palms in the wet dirt as the raced after her breath, which was still running ahead of her.

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Re: A Calling [Attn: Lugh]

Post by Lugh » June 20th, 2019, 7:45 pm

Beron Beron followed with Isla, occasionally breaking off from the other two to lead any pursuers down the wrong path. He had been a scout long before a Warder, so he knew more than a few tricks for shaking off a trailing foe. Dogs would see through many of the tricks, but luckily he had not heard the baying of hounds. And so he pushed himself, making twice the number of cutbacks the women did, knowing that Isla was drained from channeling and the burden of helping the old woman along the trails.

But their effort paid off, and it seemed as if they had truly escaped when they finally arrived at the small clearing where other women were awaiting them. Isla collapsed to her knees, her breath coming in hard as she caught her breath. Beron clutched tight to the Void as a small child would clutch a treasured blanket. His boot and leg were red with blood, long turned dark by the amount of bleeding; and he knew that to rest now would mean he likely would not have the strength to rise for awhile. And so he leaned against the trunk of a tree, eyes cold and alert as he watched the countryside between the camp and them.

The women had thankfully lit no fires, and so there was no light or smoke to give them away. It would be a rough night, but they could all sleep soon. Light but he was tired, he cursed with a shake of his head as he caught himself drooping against the branches.
Peyton Peyton had never been so scared in her life. She had heard the screams of the soldiers, the Questioner barking orders even as she had fled to the trees. Hands trembling, cursing herself for a coward the whole time she had ran, ran from the noise and men so determined to hurt her.

Many of the other women had ran as well, scattering every which way like chickens suddenly startled from their roost. She had been worried they would never get organized; when the sudden appearance of a sentry racing back to camp, startled them all into action. The man had spotted them right away, but rather than try to stop the prisoners he had been intent on returning to camp with all speed. And so, he had never spotted the first rock that struck him.

As he stumbled and cursed, he turned towards the women, drawing his sword as another rock hit his armour with little effect. Cruel and cocky he had approached, but he had not accounted for terror. Rather than flee, rather than submit, Peyton and several others had rushed the man. Taking a cut from his sword, the miller's wife had still come on, tangling with him in a shrieking rage. Hands clawed at his weapon, nails scratched his face, and Peyton had scrambled to draw his knife. She was unsure if her blade or the rock another had smashed him with ended his life, but she could still feel his blood on her hand.

Sudden noises brought her out of her idle thoughts, fear a lance in her heart as several women hid behind her. She clutched the knife in her hand, and almost called out when suddenly a young blonde woman and the man from before appeared. She could hardly believe it, he'd survived. She had seen the fog roll through the camp as they had fled through the treeline, she had heard tales of men with swords who could best such numbers. With a small thrill in her heart, she wondered if their rescuers had perhaps come from the White Tower. They must have fled it's destruction, and living rough found us here, in need she reasoned to herself, fear and hope mixing with half remember gleeman tales.

With no belt or sheath, she carefully handed the knife to another woman nearby and crouched close to the kneeling blonde woman. "You are among grateful friends lady, we have little enough to give, but we can fetch water or such if you need it," Peyton said gently.
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Bella
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Re: A Calling [Attn: Lugh]

Post by Bella » June 21st, 2019, 6:50 pm

As soon as Isla felt her breathing slow enough to think straight, she felt the pain across the bond...and knew it wasn't hers.

"Water, please," she said softly, offering a faint smile as she pushed herself to her feet and walked--if a tad unsteadily--over to her warder, where she found him leaning against a tree to give his leg rest without actually laying down. She smiled faintly as she took his face in her hands, meeting his eyes.

Saidar flowed sluggishly, like a river suddenly full of mud, but she drew on it. Her fine Delving mesh flowed through him, illuminating every injury and ill, and a moment later, she dropped a Healing weave over him to bind and knit and secure everything that needed it. And as the last of the weave tapered off, she leaned against him with a heavy exhale.

"Can't have my warder injured for long," she said with a faint laugh. "What would the other Yellows say?" There was teasing in her tone, if quiet.

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Re: A Calling [Attn: Lugh]

Post by Lugh » June 28th, 2019, 6:37 pm

Peyton Peyton nodded. "Of course Lady, right away," she said politely as she gathered her tattered and muddy skirts, making her way to the water. It was slowly moving, but had smelled fresh and sweet when Peyton had tried a drink earlier, so she used a small battered cup they had found lying in the silt and got the woman some water.

This was a nice spot, remote but was also not somewhere no one ever camped Peyton knew. There was signs of people having taken shelter from weather here, and Peyton worried one of the soldiers would know of this place. But as her hands trembled, she realized there was nothing more she could do today. Looking around at the numb, weary faces around her, she spied another young woman who seemed poised and calmer. Less tired and ragged than the rest, and Peyton recalled she had been one of the last women gathered.

Sighing, she moved back up the gentle slope, stopping when she saw the blond woman taking the man's face in her hands. There was a moment or two where they simply looked at each other. Peyton watched as the man put weight on his leg, and the woman sunk her head against his chest. Not wanting to intrude on a private moment, she turned her head and waited for the pair.
Beron Beron looked gently at Isla, knowing there was little point in fighting her as he felt the delving weave settle over his skin. Isla would not allow someone to be wounded, especially when she had the strength to fix it, and he saw her gather herself before the telltale cold of Healing swept over him.

"Can't have my warder injured for long," she said with a faint laugh. "What would the other Yellows say?" she said with a tease in her voice, as she rested against his chest.

"Well if half the Yellow knew what we did today, they'd call you a milkbrain probably. And luckily the only Yellows I know with Warders, would have done exactly as you did," he said softly, kissing the top of her head and letting her lean against him.

"I know we have exhausted women to shepherd, and I don't know how much we want to share with them all. Have you seen anyone matching the sister's description? I worry about a wilder pushed to these kind of limits, and it would be best to know if we can make our way home. Or if we risk the hornet's nest still," he said , his voice trying to share a resolve he wasn't sure he felt deep down. The fight had been fast and bloody, and he was still replaying the sword fight with the Whitecloak Officer over in his head.
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Re: A Calling [Attn: Lugh]

Post by Bella » July 2nd, 2019, 8:04 pm

Isla breathed slow and deep, closing her eyes and leaning against him as she wrestled with her own exhaustion as though it had become a person all its own that she had to combat. It surely was a more difficult opponent than the Whitecloaks they had just bested. Of those they had bested, that was...rather than those still pursuing them.

"Give me just a little time to rest, and I will open a Gateway," she said. "It is not...my strongest skill. But we can through one at a time and get us back to the Tower." She opened her eyes again and looked up at him for a long moment before glancing to the crowd of girls. "I think...that one." She pointed at a redhead. "May be thatdudewhosenameBellacan'tremember's sister..."

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Re: A Calling [Attn: Lugh]

Post by Lugh » July 5th, 2019, 2:19 am

Beron "Well that's good then Isla. At least that is one less pan in the fire, and hopefully the dreams that began this can be eased for her brother," Beron said softly as she laid out her plan with the Gateway. He knew she would be working hard in the morning, and idly wished there was a way he could have obtained an <i>angreal</i> to help Isla with the strain.

But even without that, he knew he could help her get some rest. And so he gently brought her over to the gentle rise in the land, their campfire from the other night. He hoped she wouldn't see his skin flush as he remembered their first time together, their bodies joining as man and woman. Coughing, he knew there would be time for that once everyone had a chance to rest.

Much of his gear had been lost with the horses, which was ill for the night even if most of it had been disposable as part of the mercenary disguise he had worn. Helping Isla sit on the jacket he peeled off, Beron was glad to see some of the other women beginning to bed down as well. They were all skittish and nervous, each snapping twig or hooting owl causing heads to swivel in alarm. But over time the camp began to settle, and Beron took a small bundle of herbs from the pouch on his belt.

As he chewed the springthorn, mint and a few other herbs he winced a little at the bitter, tart flavour. Still it was a blend he had toyed with, one that served as well as tea or tabac for helping to fight off fatigue. Isla could have washed it away, but he wanted her to save her strength. So as he chewed the wad of herbs, Beron took his time walking a slow circuit of the camp. He would spend much of the night scouting, allowing the women to get some rest without an armed man disturbing them. In the morning they would have to see which of the women wanted to accompany them to the Grey Tower; while the others could split the coin he had carried for their lodgings. It wasn't much, but it would help those who didn't feel like a Gateway at least try to make it on the road.
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Re: A Calling [Attn: Lugh]

Post by Bella » July 13th, 2019, 8:59 pm

Isla rested, but it was uneasily.

This encounter with the Whitecloaks would have been bad enough on the overall, but the fact that they were known to her made it all the worse. Beyond that, even just a glimpse of her father... Well. It was a recipe for an emotional disaster, and that's exactly what was brewing inside the young Aes Sedai's head as she tried to recover her physical strength.

Her dreams were full of darkness dotted with suns that were not suns but embroidered images. Their very presence was a chill rather than warmth, and her body shivered in response to the mental images.

By the time the sun began cresting the horizon, Isla was already awake. Although to say she "woke up" would be to imply she had ever properly gone to sleep in the first place, and she hadn't. Still, she roused herself with what little reserves of energy had returned to her. It was a blessing they had not been found in the night, but she was not going to push their luck.

"Let's wake everyone," she said to Beron, "and discuss what happens now. Then I will open the Gateway."

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Re: A Calling [Attn: Lugh]

Post by Lugh » July 16th, 2019, 8:04 pm

Beron Beron was exhausted. The blood loss, the fight and wounds he had sustained had drained his body, even if Isla's skill with her weaves meant there was no scar. Added to that the tense night of waiting in the woods, cursing inside as he heard each woman cry out in her sleep, or the loud movement of bodies in an otherwise quiet wood.

He had forced himself to stay awake, chewing bitter herbs and drawing on stamina and resilence forged in the Grey Tower, and thankfully the morning had arrived without incident. He had spent the night feeling the tension and emotional whirlwind that was Isla through their bond, and wished he had any idea where to begin. To battle your own father, and to have to see what he was doing with fresh eyes.. Beron thought to himself sadly as he heard Isla stirring.

Moving over to her, he kissed her softly before another woman stretched and groaned as she got off the cold ground. "Let's wake everyone," she said to Beron, "and discuss what happens now. Then I will open the Gateway."

"As you will Isla Sedai," Beron said with a soft smile, and a formal greeting for the women who had already risen to meet the new day. He had a small fire, no longer worried about the light giving them away he was glad he had managed to forage a few grouse from their nighttime roost. The meal would be simple, roasted meat and what little he had in his pack, still he could see a few of the women already eyeing the meat.

"Ladies, please wake the others. We will need to eat and move fast this morning. Isla Sedai would speak with you all," Beron said softly, watching the women for signs of anger or displeasure. Instead he seemed to see a dawning realization of who their rescuers were, and then gratitude and hope. As the women went to wake the others, he busied himself with the meat and making sure Isla would have something to break her fast.
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