An End to Running [Attn: Jaryd]

[Trent]

Durent found himself surprised and impressed by Keiran's ease of making gateways. He weaved them faster and more efficiently than Durent had yet managed to do in the decades since he'd first learned how to do it. He wondered if Keiran was Talented in Traveling. It wouldn’t surprise him from what he’d seen. He filed that information away for use later, in case it became useful to him.

He cast his eyes around, not saying much, as they were lead through the manor. Keiran’s setup for them here was impressive, to be sure. He’d have to keep his eye on this one. When he decided to just up and leave them with the servant, Durent was puzzled, if slightly annoyed, but more curious than anything. He had a lot of promise and potential.

Durent took Keiran's joke about Jaryd being his consort in stride, seeing as he'd first suggested it. Durent had no qualms pretending. Truth be told, Durent would have no problems with it being real, now that he thought about it for a few moments. While his experiences mostly were with women, Durent had shared a bed with a few men in his lifetime. One of the first people he'd ever fooled around with as a youth was his best friend Jon.

Jaryd definitely wasn't a bad looking man at all, but they had a mission to remain focused on. Though, when Jaryd, pretending though he was, drank him in with that look, Durent locked eyes with him for a moment and couldn't deny a little bit of fire in him from it. Luckily he managed to school his reaction, mostly, and turned also to Master Hall, nodding in agreement that they be on their way. "Yes, let us finally meet the Lady Morigan, we've heard so much about her.” Durent grabbed Jaryd’s arm affectionately for a moment before following the servant.

[Steven]

Kaci Taravin The Lady Morigan Kaci paced the massive underground chamber. She suspected it had been a dungeon once, but had long since been converted to storage space. It was filled with boxes containing rarities and valuables when they moved in. Her first act as Lady Morigan was to hold an auction. Every last piece sold and the proceeds were donated to various charitable organizations in Cairhien. The city had no shortage of need, and most of the wealthy couldn’t be bothered to care.

Having lost count of how many goblets she’d filled tonight, Kaci poured herself another. She was unsure if the Andoran Red was really one of the finest wines money could buy, or just reminded her of home. Either way, it was becoming far too easy to drink it by the barrel.

Kaci approached the enormous rounded table in the center of the room, and took a long swig of her wine before setting it down. The table held scraps of parchment, maps, portraits of suspected darkfriends. Kaci had taken it upon herself to collect a few mysterious items as well, trinkets in odd shapes and varied sizes, rumored to be from before the breaking. A master craftsmen had the help of a dozen men to construct the monstrous oaken table. The whole thing was supported by a single thick post, carved in the likeness of an oak trunk. Where it touched the floor, it split into a dozen gnarled roots sprawling in all directions. On the face of the table, an ominous green lacquered owl spread its wings in flight, its shape outlined in thin tendrils of gold accentuated by the flickering torchlight.

A long recurve bow lay propped against the table, dozens of beasts carved in its thick limbs. Kaci ran her finger along the curves, and grasped the leather wrapped grip in her fist. With her other hand, she snatched an arrow from a quiver on the tabletop. Kaci exhaled, emptying her lungs and nocked the arrow. In one swift motion she pulled the bowstring to her face while pushing the grip away in an arc over her head, she spun her hips and pivoted on her heels to face the opposite direction, her left foot crossed in front of her right. She loosed. The arrow found its mark, a rough sketch of the dreadlord, Rorland, pinned to a straw dummy. A few spans away from the arrow, quivering in its new home, Master Hill stood at the base of the stairs, his eyes wide and his jaw tight. Two men stood at his back, one she recognized as M’Hael Jaryd Kosari, but the other was a mysteriously handsome man with the ageless face of an Asha’man. He was battle hardened, judging by the painful looking scar marring an otherwise perfect face.

Kaci lowered the bow and adjusted her stance. The slit in her fiery red dress had exposed her leg to the top of her thigh as she spun to loose her shot. Not that she minded showing a few handsome men her skin, but these men were Asha’man, and she was, after all, still a recruit in the Warder Yards. Her dress was slashed with black silk, almost as many as someone of Royal blood would wear. Every dress she owned had a different number of slashes, and all in varying colors. It was fun, yes, but moreover it kept Cairhienen nobility guessing, fueling the rumor mill. Every noble in Cairhien wanted to get close to Lady Morigan. It was an exhausting ruse, but one necessary to strike at the heart of evil festering inside the city.

Lifting her right hand above her head, Kaci snapped her fingers. A servant on the other end of the room scurried to fill two more goblets of wine for the two men as they strode across the room. Impressively, the wiry servant had the goblets in the hands of the Asha’men before they reached the table.

“Welcome to my…not so humble home, Asha’men.” Kaci let out a light-hearted laugh and curtsied, though not as deeply as she would have back at the Tower. “I was expecting you, M’Hael Kosari, but “, the other man introduced himself, correcting her mistake. She supposed it wasn’t uncommon for the posts of Tower leadership to change hands.

Without delay, Kaci delved right in to a long winded explanation of the various complexities and current events in Cairhien.

[Steven]

Keiran Taravin Keiran’s head spun slightly as he released saidin and drained the glass in his hand. He stood up and strode across the room to a small bookshelf. A lockbox sat on one of the shelves. Keiran reached under his shirt at his neck, and pulled a key over his head. With it, he unlocked the lockbox and lifted the lid. On a bed of red velvet sat a curious band of pure silver with open ends, that curved around three times. The entire piece looked like a twisted branch, small leaves protruded from the band in random intervals. It was meant to be worn on the upper arm, slid over the hand like a bracelet and past the elbow. It was tight, but not uncomfortably so. Keiran suspected it was an angreal, but was not naive enough to test it.

With the band in hand, Keiran left his chambers and walked swiftly towards the lowest level of the Palace. Even at this late hour, servants scampered all about, performing their various duties. As Keiran turned to take a shortcut through the Library, he was accosted by Master Hill. “Sit down, Keiran!”

“Mas- “, he grabbed Keiran, cutting off his words, manhandling him with far too much strength for an old man and shoving him down into a chair.

“I’ve watched you this past week, and you haven’t eaten enough to keep a bird alive. Your cheeks are gaunt and your skin is pale. If your Mother knew I let this go on, she would have my hide flayed!”

Keiran sighed, “It’s a good thing she thinks I’m tucked away safe and sound in the Grey Tower then, isn’t it, Master Hill?” The man grunted.

“You wait right here. Your sister can handle the men downstairs for now. I’m going to get you something to eat, and I’ll watch you eat every…last…bite!” He yelled the last bit from down the hall around the corner. Master Hill never wasted any time.

Keiran sat the band on the table at his side, picking up a book propped up beside it. The Age of Legends: Fact or Fiction. He chuckled a little. There were strange people in the world, even those who believed the Age of Legends was just a fairy tale. Keiran passed the time rifling through its pages before Master Hill brought in a heaping bowl of Beef Stew and half a thin, narrow loaf of bread. His stomach rumbled, betraying his hunger. Master Hill gave him a grin from ear to ear. Keiran rolled his eyes.

It didn’t take long to scarf down the meal under Hill’s watchful gaze. Keiran washed it all down with a goblet of ice cold water. He couldn’t deny that he felt better with a full stomach. Quickly thanking the man, Keiran picked up the silver band and made his way to the chamber below.

As he made it to the bottom of the stairs, he could hear the two Asha’man debating amongst themselves, while Kaci sat silent. As they came in to view, he could see Kaci was nursing another goblet of wine. She saw him and smiled. Every time they were around one another, there was a feeling of security that emanated through the bond. “About time you joined us, little brother.”

Keiran held up the band, “I had to get this, and was accosted by Master Hill on the way back.” Kaci gave him a knowing look and laughed.

Turning his attention to the other Asha’man, “Kaci found this a few months ago. We suspect it was being used by the male darkfriend channeler. I think it is an angreal, but I haven’t been foolish enough to test it on my own.”

Looking at Kaci, “You explained your part?” She nodded. “Okay. So the party is in two days. All of Cairhien wishes they were invited; rumors have been spreading like wildfire about how spectacular it is going to be. Lord Rorland has a fascination with the Lady Morigan. He has sent her many private invitations over the past months, but she has always refused. Now, with such a big event, it won’t be questioned if she shows up with a small entourage.”

“It is no secret that Lord Rorland has a voracious appetite for women.”

Kaci smiled widely, “There are other rumors in Cairhien that I have a staff of men in my employ whose only job is to tend to my…needs. I think it’s that thought that has driven Rorland’s obsession with me.”

Keiran nodded, “We planned to have Kaci play in to his desires at the party. No doubt in our minds he will take her someplace private. He is almost never away from the other two channelers, so this will be a perfect opportunity to strike. If it were just Asha’man Phillips and I, we don’t think we could overcome Rorland in time before the other two show up to help. But, now, we can distract them, while the two of you face the Dreadlord.”

“I think if you were to pose as her bodyguards, she could convince Rorland to post the two of you outside whatever part of his Palace he takes her to. That way you are ready to strike as soon as you hear a signal from Kaci. Questions or other ideas?”

[Steven]

Keiran Taravin “Seriously?” Keiran stood in the middle of Kaci’s bedroom. She peaked around the wardrobe and let out a boisterous laugh. “I look…like I belong in a menagerie.”

“That’s the point! But, I think you look fantastic. Not a single person will question who you are.”

Keiran wanted to scream. He was wearing a pure black, sleeveless tunic slashed with red the tint of blood to match Kaci’s dress, and embroidered with enough silver to make a platter. It was so tight, that the slit from his neck to just above his naval nearly exposed his entire chest. His form fitting black leather pants left absolutely nothing to the imagination, and were secured with a pompously wide silver belt inlaid with thick rubies. His black boots were scrolled with even more silver. The woman Kaci had sent to dress him had stuck his hair straight up, kept that way with some goop that smelled like honey and tied a leather band that held up a garish black mask hiding his forehead and the top of his cheeks. The angreal, which he was glad to have, was firmly placed on his upper right arm.

“I hate you.”

“Dressed like that, you will be able to go wherever you want, and nobody will stop you. At least, not stop to talk, anyway.” She laughed again.

Keiran was silent the entire carriage ride, scowling at his reflection in the window.

Kaci Taravin Kaci stared at her brother sitting across the cramped carriage. He sat stoically, staring out the window lost in thought. He had grown, in so many ways, they both had. Keiran was always the quiet one, the silent observer. No doubt he received the more potent mind of the two of them, but with each passing year Kaci was convinced he also got the better looks. Especially dressed as he was now. She was amused he didn’t see it. Confidence was never his strongest trait. Now, looking at him as they drew nearer to a major milestone in their fight against the Shadow, Kaci swelled with pride. Keiran Taravin, her brother, to be an Asha’man of the Grey Tower, eradicating evil at great risk to himself. She knew, without a doubt, their parents would be proud as well.

A pang of longing and sorrow seeped into Kaci’s thoughts. Homesickness. It was not the time, nor the place, for such feelings. Steeling herself, Kaci broke the silence. “Are you nervous, little brother?”

“Nervous? Are you kidding? I’m terrified.” She already knew his answer; she could feel it through the bond. Emanating from him like ocean waves.

Leaning forward, she snatched his hand from his knee and grasped it in her own, “There are four of you against three of them. Once it begins, you won’t be alone. I’ll come straight to you, and we’ll finish this together.”

Keiran nodded reluctantly, “I know…it’s just, we’ve been at this for so long, anticipating this very night. I’m still not sure I’m ready. You’ve seen real combat. I’ve only practiced for it. There can be nothing more dangerous than a fight with the One Power, Kaci. You have no idea the destruction it can unleash.”

A rush of repressed fear overcame her, she knew he felt it through the bond, “I don’t?” Of course he knew she meant the Balefire, how could either of them forget.

A sigh was the only answer he gave. He looked her straight in the eye, his piercing gaze like a pressure weighing on her heart. “I don’t know that I’m strong enough to protect you from it.”

“Enough, Keiran! Blood and ashes, you ripped a hole in the bloody flaming pattern, stepped through it, and erased that bloodless bastard from existence. That’s not some flaming Hero of the Horn story,” she stabbed her finger at him, “that…actually…happened.”

Keiran Taravin The carriage jolted to a stop. Kaci smiled, and beckoned for Keiran to open the door and play the part. He shook his head and wiped all emotion from his face and mind, the flame and void a fingers length away. Opening the door, he hopped down. All eyes in the courtyard were on him. Suddenly, he was less nervous about the battle, instead fearing the unwanted attention their presence would bring. Gatherings at the Lion Palace in Caemlyn were familiar, they were known, they had friends. Here, they were the mysterious strangers, the enigma waiting to be unwrapped by he or she who could ask the right questions.

Keiran turned, and raised both arms to catch Kaci as she hopped from the carriage. She supported herself on his shoulders as he grasped her waist and lowered her to the ground. With both feet planted firmly on the cobblestones, Kaci tweaked Keiran’s nose and winked. He heard a muffled laugh from the gathering crowd, his cheeks heated. Snaking her arm around his, she shoved him towards the grand stairs leading up towards the palace.

A glimpse from the corner of his eye showed the three Asha’man approaching with the small gaggle of servants Kaci insisted they bring. An entourage would garner fewer questions than a few special guests. The courtyard was surprisingly plain for such a grandiose palatial estate. Rumors said that Lord Rorland won it in a gamble with the High Seat of a Great House no longer in existence. Lesser nobility rise and fall quite often; to fall so far, or rise so high, is a scandal.

Great columns rose nearly half a dozen spans high on either side of the massive entryway. Extravagantly carved and gilded doors, seemed as if they took a small contingent of strong men to budge, were held wide open and lined with armed guards standing still as statues. Music and laughter floated out in to the courtyard where they stood.

“Lady Morigan! What a profound pleasure this is. Truly magnificent that you have chosen to join me tonight, yes?” Lord Rorland wasted little time.

Kaci Taravin An impressive sight he made, Lord Rorland. Dressed from head to toe in black velvet, covered in gold knots and tassels, embroidery and pins. An ornate Scimitar hung from his side, a heron emblazoned on its hilt, large sapphires and diamonds accentuating its grip. Rorland was a very good looking man. He was tall and thin, though gave no illusion of weakness. His face was round and gaunt, though hauntingly attractive. Staring into his eyes for more than a second enhanced the rest of his features immensely.

Kaci smiled as Keiran turned his head towards her, still grasping his arm. She turned her head to look into his eyes. Squeezing his arm, Kaci gripped his chin with her free hand and winked again before pulling her arm loose and brushing him aside.

“Believe me, Rorland. It is the greatest pleasure of all.” Her words were slow, methodical, audible to the entire courtyard yet somehow a murmur meant only for him. Kaci glided up the stairs in a calculated, sensuous manner, as if closing the distance to something she desired greatly.

The slit in her dress exposed her leg three quarters of the way up her thigh with every step. The material was a semi-sheer silk the color of a blood rose. On it, there was not even a single slash of color depicting her station. The bodice was cut low, exposing the top of her breasts. Most of the cloth was missing from her midriff, only covered by thin strips of silk over otherwise bare skin. An ornament, a brooch almost, was clasped at her naval. A golden raven in flight, two large ruby eyes scattering the torchlight. The only fabric covering her back from the waist up was a thin crisscross of material from her shoulders to her hips. In Caemlyn, such a display would be an outrage.

As she reached the top of the stairs, Kaci paused, pursing her lips. Beckoning to Keiran and the others, “You don’t mind, do you?” As she finished the question, she closed the distance to Rorland, placing her hand to his chest. Her fingers touched the warm skin beneath the loose ties of his shirt, she lightly dug her nails into his flesh. Hunger swirled in his eyes.

Without even a glance at her companions, Rorland placed a hand at the small of her back and leaned in close. The heat of his breath sent chills up Kaci’s spine. He whispered, “For you darling…anything.”

Kaci’s heart raced as he ushered her into the party with a push from the hand on her back. And so it began.