Hold With Those Who Favor Fire [Attn: Field Trip People!]

[Locke]

Terric

The rush of battle faded even before the last Trolloc fell. Raids like this are normal, Terric reminded himself. It did little to lift his since of unease. Casting a glance over his shoulder, he was relieved to see Avrya still mounted. He gave her a quick nod and began to survey the battlefield. He’d been taught to trust his instincts, and his instincts told him something was wrong. He decided it was better to assume something was wrong than assume he was just overreacting until he Myrdraal’s blade was in his back. What should he do then? He was a Red Shield, he knew exactly what he should do. He should get answers.

Bending over a hulking corpse, he gave it a heave turning it onto its back. A single Trolloc smelled worse than a group of Stone Dogs who hadn’t seen a sweat tent in weeks. Holding his breath and trying not to gag, he began to search the creature. What did he expect to find? Orders reading: Attack these people? Probably not. He perked up at the sight of a badge sewn into the creature’s armor. Using a knife, he cut the patch free. A flaming goat skull. Maybe one of the Channellers or Warders could tell him something about it. He checked a few more corpses, but they all wore the same badges, nor did they care anything interesting.

~~~
Terric climbed the narrow outpost stairs, doing his to balance his dinner on top of his pewter mug while also carrying a spear in his right hand. Dog Gaidin’s attempts to stop and sniff his meal did little to help. Terric grimaced at the big dog after nearly tripping on him for a third time and sloshing beer on his wrist.

“I’ll give you some once I find somewhere to sit, now excuse me,” he said in an exasperated voice.

Tongue lolling, the dog bounded up the stairs to sit watching eagerly. Bits of nearly black Trolloc blood was still visible between the dog’s teeth. As if his breath wasn’t bad enough already. Finally, Terric managed to climb the stairs without another spill. He walked along the ramparts with Dog Gaidin sniffing at his heels, looking for a good place to eat.

Catching a scent on the wind, Dog Gaidin dashed ahead to a spot along the ramparts where a tall Asha’man stood. Before Terric could stop him, the big dog went up on his hind legs and stole a hunk of cheese the man had sat on one of the battlements. When Terric caught up to them, he was surprised to see that the man didn’t seem too upset with his dog. He gave the dog a stern “No” and offered the rest of his own cheese anyway. It was only the right thing to do.

Just as he was turning to leave, he was struck by moment of recognition. Zarius Iiro, that was the man’s name. There weren’t too many Wetlanders that were taller than him, so those who were stood out. People called him Zeen in there Wetlander way, and according to Avrya, he was familiar with this place. Maybe he would have answers. He held the man’s gaze for a moment, when it didn’t seem likely that he would be sent away, he placed his own meal on the battlements. Terric fished in his pocket then pulled out the goat’s head patch, presenting it with an inquisitive tilt of his head.

[Bella]

OOC: This isn't a "plot post" to move us forward just yet, but give us a little more time for stuffs and things. I'm sorry that I'm so late on things! Life got crazy, and my muse is being uncooperative at best. I will be moving us along in a few days! The next phase is the "big climax" part of this arc, so stick with me!

Miahala watched as the members of her party scattered to the still wind of the outpost. Some were tending to their injuries, others to find food and rest to recover from the battle's expenditure, and others simply to find solitude. Recovery for the mind as much as the body.

She took in a deep breath and followed the little knot in her mind to where Sojin stood, arguing with an outpost medic who wanted to tend to an injury to his arm. Mia had to stifle a smile at the exchange and, as no one else needed her attention, she moved over and waved off the medic. The young woman--with that same battle weary gaze as everyone else--bowed her head to the Aes Sedai and left.

"You should allow people to do what they are trained to do," she said with amusement flickering in her blue-green eyes, Saidar still coursing through her as she used it to knit his wound together. It was ultimately minor and would not take much of either of their energy. "I have been oft told the same of myself and my warder."

Before the exchange could go much further, her eyes caught sight of a familiar face from just the night before. Cyrus was a soldier who had been posted to the citadel and had been at the evening meal with them. He paused and bowed his head to the pair. Mia's brows knit curiously.

"You would seem to have wings, soldier," she commented lightly.

He bowed to them again and chuckled. "I left during the night as there was an urgent missive I was bound to deliver to here, and another to carry forward to the next post. But I had to rest my horse."

That brought Mia to all seriousness. "A missive that would have you ride through the Blight border in the dark of night must have been quite urgent indeed." As an Aes Sedai of her standing, she had every right to ask to know. However, she knew that respect came more from judicious use of one's power, than blatantly. "Is it anything I and my group should be aware of?"

Cyrus shook his head. "No, my lady. It is regarding troop replacements that have been sorely needed, with outposts almost begging for people to be dispatched. Now that some are going to be, it was considered of the utmost importance that the posts to be replenished be notified." He bowed his head again. "I must be onward to the next post."

"Light be with you," Mia said.

"And with you, Aes Sedai." He turned and left. There was something hollow now in the pit of Mia's stomach, a spot that had begun during their attack en route and had been expanded now.

"It bothers me that our defense against the Blight is being kept so roughly," she commented with Sojin with a sigh. "I find it now even less surprising that I and any others would be requested to come out here. If they cannot rely on their own soldiers, where else is help to come from?"

[Roan]

Tia Tomosan

The battle with the Trollocs was over almost as quickly as it began, leaving Tia feeling unsettled. She didn’t have time to give it much thought, though, as the group moved with speed towards the outpost. The rest of their journey was swift and peaceful, but the sense of unease only mounted as they entered the outpost they’d been asked to assist.

Tia was no tactician, but she was the daughter of the Mistress of Arms, and great-great granddaughter of Miahala Sedai. To her inexperienced eyes, there seemed too few soldiers to guard such an outpost. Those soldiers she did see had a haunted or perhaps tired look about them, suggesting the Blight and Shadow gave no quarter.

A young boy approached Tia as she dismounted Storm, “Welcome, Aes Sedai. May I help you with your mount?”

Scratching the horse at her withers, Tia looked to the boy and offered him a small smile, “You can direct me to a stall and perhaps help me pull her tack off.”

The boy returned her smile with a bright grin, the brightest thing the outpost had seen in some time, if Tia had to guess. “It would be an honor, Aes Sedai.”

“Jace! Get over here. . .leave the Aes Sedai alone,” an older man chastised as he limped his way towards Tia. “Excuse the boy, Aes Sedai. He is new here and a bit too eager.”

Tia shook her head, “It is fine. I could use Jace’s help.” Tia studied the older man, sensing disappointment.

“Fine, fine. Jace. . .you help her then get to the kitchens. We have more mouths to feed.”

“Of course, Master Rhymes,” the boy replied.

Rhymes looked from him to Tia before limping off, muttering under his breath. Flashing Jace a grin, “I might need your assistance for quite some time.” She offered a wink and laughed softly as his eyes went wide in comprehension.

It didn’t take too long for Jace and Tia to untack Storm, and rub her down. The rest of the Tower party’s horses were all stalled and eating their meal, and there was nothing left to keep Jace away from the kitchens any longer. The boy was a general helper around the outpost, but he wanted to learn to be a soldier one day. His eyes lit up when he spoke about holding a sword.

As the young Aes Sedai watched the boy trot off, she let go a low sigh. Between the dream, the trollocs and the feel of the outpost, Tia was ill at ease. Perhaps it was time to find Miahala and speak with her about the dream, and what it meant. . .if anything more than just a dream.

[Bella]

OOC: Shout out! I know I totally suck and I'm so sorry! My muse, well, she's taken a beating lately and it's been hard to write, but I'm gonna get back in the game. Since this has been a while on this one, before I write the next post, I just want to make sure people are still on board! So could you either post here or PM me to let me know if you're still in?

And if you haven't posted but want in, that's fine! Let me know and I'll help. Thank you, dears. <3

[Bella]

OOC: I couldn’t let it stop. Everyone is still welcome to join in. OOC notes at the bottom.

For the most part, the group rested. The injuries were treated, and some were confined to keep themselves quiet for the afternoon and evening. Supplies were very basic, but at least in enough supply to feed the Grey Tower’s contingent without harming the outpost.

Miahala, however, was sequestered in the office of the commander with said commander. The pair nearly knocked their heads together on more than one occasion as they leaned over a map spread over his rough-hewn table. His communications with the other outpost commanders had allowed a thorough marking of the full map and not just his immediate area.

“No one is telling us anything about why our soldiers are in such short supply,” he said with no small amount of frustration he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, hide.

“It disturbs me as well,” Mia said. “Although perhaps it is the simple, sad math that the number of soldiers we gain remains steady while our enemy grows.” Staring at the map, she sighed heavily and shook her head. “It seems that the shadows grow in every corner of our world as the Last Battle grows ever closer.”

He joined her sigh. “You may be right, my lady,” he said wearily. “May the Creator shelter and Light shield us all as these days progress. I don’t know how much more my fighters can take, and this is a brave group. They fight harder and longer than anyone should ever demand of them.”

The Green smiled slightly, hearing the pride in his voice. She understood it; hearing that it verged nearly on parental affection. “I’m sure seeing their commander by their side in battle helps their morale.” His face was like a map of battle scars, so there was no doubt he was as much the fighter as his soldiers.

Returning the expression, he looked almost humbled as he turned back to the map. “I have identified little pattern in recent months, except to say there has been an increase in our troubles closer to the outposts. Although this area,” he continued, pointing to a spot on the map, “seems to originate a fair bit of unique trouble.”

“What qualifies as ‘unique trouble’ in a place like the Blight, where unique is commonplace?” Mia asked, one brow slightly arched.

“Well put,” he chuckled softly. “The common thread is that they rarely get there. If they are pursuing shadowspawn, the monsters avoid it. None of my soldiers want to head there without good cause and other than the oddness of it, I have yet to have good cause to waste men on a fishing expedition.”

“Perhaps I will take my group there,” Mia mused. “It we could help ease that mystery, it couldn’t but help.”

“Maybe so, my lady,” he agreed, straightening up and turning to lean back against the table, rubbing his eyes. “I would simply wish you to be cautious. I trust nothing in this land, as you would well know, and I would not want to be considered responsible for the disappearance of one of the Tower’s most infamous denizens.” He glanced sidelong at her, smiling slightly.

Mia smirked. “Infamous, eh? I suppose I can live with that.” She put her hand on his upper arm, her smirk becoming more of a warm smile. “Get some rest. My people will take the first watch so you and your soldiers can get some sleep. We’ll head out to investigate in the morning.”
* * * It was an hour just after dawn when a loud banging echoed off the door of the guest chamber Miahala and Sojin were sleeping in.

Saidar flooded her before she was even fully awake and by the time her eyes opened, Sojin--in a pair of breeches and bare feet--had his sword in hand and was stalking toward the door. Without opening it, he demanded to know who was there. They were permitted in when they said their were an outpost guard, though her Gaidin stood ready just in case. He lowered his weapon when he saw that they were who they claimed to be.

The young man barely looked old enough to survive away from home, let alone fight on the front lines. For a moment, Mia could only think of her own sons...who had likely been out protecting Aes Sedai by his age… She rose and moved to Sojin’s side. She wore only her shift, which the young soldier noticed, but she didn’t care and he didn’t speak.

“Aes Sedai,” he panted. “We have just received an urgent missive that Outpost Kersai is under attack and calls for aid; they only barely got the messenger through and he speaks of full assault upon their walls. We can spare none. May your party attend?” He handed her a piece of paper.

“Of course,” Mia said without hesitation, quickly scanning the missive’s contents. “Please have the rest roused and told to prepare to ride out immediately.” The young man bowed and left in a hurry. Mia looked at her warder-husband with a faint smile and shrug. “At least life with me will never be boring.” She didn’t wait for his reply as she turned on her toes, like the dancer she could never leave behind, and got dressed faster than any “normal” woman ought to be able to.

Dressed, packed, and armed in what seemed like just moments, the Green and her Gaidin were making their way down the hall with haste. They headed straight for the stables, where some of their party was already gathered. Their speed pleased her, and it was not long before the rest appeared as well. Stable-hands had started tacking up the group’s steeds before they had even arrived and now the Tower citizens helped finish the job.

“We ride northeast to Outpost Kersai. Just like here, they are undermanned and overwhelmed, now facing a prolonged assault. They need help to break the siege, and we are best available to do just that. We will be approaching from the southwest, with the gates to our west. That is where the attacking force will be located. We will focus our strike there, with a small contingent to flank around. Mount up. We ride hard.”
* * * They had been riding for roughly an hour when the silhouette of the next outpost rose against the colorful sky of an aging morning. Yet almost from the moment it came into sight, things didn’t feel right to Miahala. She had them drive on for a few moments before she began to rein Seren in and held up her hand for everyone to stop.

“This doesn’t feel right,” she murmured to no one in particular, although Sojin heard her. The downward twist of his lips and knit brow showed that he had felt the same thing. “Move into a defensive formation, just in case.” This meant that the warders and trainees were to the outside with the channelers within. A predetermined layout of trainees to unbonded learning ranks and channelers had been set and said trainees were sure to be precisely where they were meant to be.

With that settled, she gestured for them to start moving again. This time, much more slowly. The closer they got, the less she heard. It just seemed to be silence. If there was a group attacking this place, then...where were they?

Once they had drawn nearer still, she could see the embattled state of the ramparts. The gate was visible just around the edge of the fortress and both gates were hanging half-off their hinges, and it was obvious that there was no one in this place. No guards manned the towers, and no sounds of life came from it.

“Back!” Mia ordered at once. “It’s a trap. We must return!”

Thwit.

The sound whistled through the air and an arrow landed in the dry dirt before them. It buried itself so hard in the dirt that it vibrated. It sat there alone for a long moment as they stared at it and then each other. Saidar again crashed through her like a tidal wave as she grabbed the thickest cords of Air she could to weave together and stretch it above their heads, just before more arrows rained down.

With her shield being battered, Mia turned her head enough to seek the source of the arrows and found that they were coming from inside the outpost fortress. “The outpost!” she called, just before the gates were blown completely off the hinges and a flood of Trollocs came free.

We were set up, was the last coherent thought she could manage before all energy turned towards a fight. A huge group--far larger than the one they had fought the day before--poured out of the main entrance and trickled through a small rear entrance on the opposing side of the outpost, giving two avenues to fight against; one could flank them.

Mia held her Air shield above them, but had to split her concentration. The others did the same, as the earth ahead of the flanking group began to rumble and shift. The first rank of beasts tumbled and fell to the ground, the ones behind them either fell onto them or climbed over. They pursued with clear, single-minded intent.

Looking at the larger force swarming ahead, Mia raised one hand high and lightning struck through the clear, grey-tone sky. It struck the center of the horde, sending several flying over the others before crashing into them. She watched as the sky grew less clear and knew that Cloud Dancing was at work. She called another strike, sent more creatures flying.

She did not release the shield, as she had no idea if more were still in the fortress--more streamed out. How many had they fit in there? Were they stacked on top of one another like firewood while waiting for her group? No more arrows flew, but she could hardly trust that.

Then, two things happened simultaneously.

Every horse suddenly screamed. These steeds were not afraid of Trollocs, for their were tried and tested horses of the Grey Tower. No, this was something else. Even as the enemy drew nearer, Saidar and Saidin raining all around them, she felt a shiver through her body and looked to the sky. A winged shape soared in silhouette over her. It was no bird, however.

Draghkar.

She opened her mind to speak, and the second thing happened. Her voice abruptly was a howl.

The world was moving swiftly and painfully so. Things tumbling upon one another in such succession that even she struggled to keep up; it was a maelstrom of events that was the only thing able to compete with the might of this group.

Like it was planned.

The pack of Darkhounds raced up behind them, cleaving through the Trollocs that had managed to circumvent the earthen attack and grow closer.

Warders and trainees fired bows or stood ready. The One Power continued to wreak havoc that slowed but did not stop that which was coming.

They were in trouble.

OOC: H’okay, people! We got a MASSIVE FIGHT on our hands. If you want some type of offensive weave, weapon skill, or mastery, this is the time. There will be one more “event” after this, but this is the big one for right now. I’ll post again with the “twist” after a few posts from y’all, but FIGHT before and FIGHT after. Please don’t die. But feel free to get injured.

Suggestions: I’m too lazy to double-check, but I believe there is some kind of warding style weave that affects sound. Can someone do something to keep the Draghkar from siren-song-ing the group? Or kill it. Do something!

Lots and lots and lots of Trollocs. There is a giant group in front of us and a smaller group coming around behind. Darkhounds--about seven to ten--coming in from behind, but they may split up. I will tell you there is a Myddraal out there, you can see it and how it’s directing the very organized Trollocs, but don’t kill it yet.

The main thing is that the enemy seems highly organized against our specific force--going for trainees and learning ranks first, like they know who the trainees and learning ranks are. Some arrows can still be coming in, aiming for the channelers; especially for the powerful channelers, like Mia and Zeen. Interpret this as you like and however makes it fun to write.

If you have questions, just let me know!

[Roan]

Tia Tomosan

The landscape looked dead. Grey skies seemed to blend into the grey rocks and soil. The only thing that seemed to have any color was Tia’s bright green vest as she stood in the midst of the barren landscape. The clouds seemed as if they were a boiling mass, though there was no wind to speak of.

With slow, deliberate steps, Tia turned in a circle, and found no matter which way she looked, everything looked the same.

“It would be easy to get lost out here, pet. Easy to be forgotten if one were to get lost from the group,” Aluana’s husky voice sounded amused. “Where is the group, hmm?”

Fear welled up in Tia as she spun in place, yet she was still alone.

“You realize you are the weak link in your party, no? You can only defend yourself with your power. What if you couldn’t speak?”

Tia tried to protest and found she couldn’t open her mouth. Her fingers went to her lips, and she found she had no mouth. Panic began to fill her just as a Trolloc emerged. With its emergence, there was a surging wind that picked up dust into a massive dust devil that circled it and the Aes Sedai.

“Things are not as they seem pet. You could use me at your side. I could direct you. I could make the decisions of life and death easier.”

Just as the Trolloc reached Tia, and reached out to grab her, there was an explosion. . .

Gasping, Tia sat bolt-upright in bed. Another dream. Letting out a silent curse, she looked to the door and was about to tell whoever knocked to enter when a booming voice filled the hall, “Everyone is to prepare to leave immediately. There is an attack on another outpost, and your assistance has been requested. Meet in the Yards ready to ride!”

Tia was not one to take ages to get ready even when she might otherwise have the time. Within moments of getting out of bed, she was dressed, pulling on her riding boots before leaving her room. Quick strides took her to the stables where everyone was getting their mounts ready to ride. The boy, Jace, was already brushing Storm for Tia when she arrived. She flashed him a warm smile as she grabbed her saddle and put it on her mount’s back.

Satisfied with her last check of the girth, Tia mounted Storm and not a moment later, it seemed the party was riding out through the gates on their way to Outpost Kersai. The nightmare haunted Tia’s thoughts as the group rode on. Things are not as they seem, echoed in her mind in Aluana’s husky voice.

The Green Aes Sedai was uneasy as the group pressed onwards. Her unease only grew when the group came to a stop at Mia’s command, and then shifted into a defensive formation. An uncertain tingle tracked along her spine as they continued to their intended destination.

The trap was sprung moments later as an arrow landed in front of the group. Tia pulled the Source into her, and could feel every bit of her tingle as the other Aes Sedai did the same. The shield thrown up by Miahala stopped most of the barrage of arrows. By that point Trollocs poured from the abandoned outpost. Someone called from their ‘rear,’ and Tia spun Storm around to see more approaching from behind them.

The trap had been sprung carefully, and the group from the Grey Tower were effectively surrounded. Her bones seemed to vibrate with the arrival of the Draghkar. Growing up as part of a Grey Tower family meant Tia was more than well versed in the creatures of the Shadow. She was less well versed in Wards, but wondered if a ward for eavesdropping around the creature might protect the group from it’s sing-song voice.

Tia was about to attempt to create the Ward when she heard, then saw something else that made her heart sink. Darkhounds. They were fierce beasts, incredibly difficult to kill, but. . .but they hated rain. Would it stop them? She didn’t know, but Cloud Dancing was her forte.

Calling on threads of Air, Water and Spirit, Tia focused her efforts on coalescing everything into a storm focused over her party and expanding outward to give a bit of a boundary between their party and the Darkhounds. Thunder started to rumble as the storm grew and the first drops of rain started to fall. The first few seconds only saw a few sparse drops, but then the storm opened up and a constant heavy rain began to fall.

Below her, Storm seemed antsy, but the horse held her ground, her ears flicking as she took in each threat around them. She caught sight of the Draghkar and used her Cloud Dancing skills to call on Lightning to try and strike it from the sky, but it moved at the last minute, and she missed.

Before she could attempt another volley, she looked back and saw the group of Trollocs closing in from behind were nearly upon them. She hoped someone with greater skill than her could take care of the Draghkar as she focused on the group of Trollocs and pulled together swirling weaves of air to make a vortex that she rammed through the middle of the group. Some of the beasts were picked up like rag dolls and spun off well away from the group.

An arrow landed just off to her left, and Tia looked up to see Zeen a mere foot away from the projectile. Another arrow landed near Mia, and the Trollocs that were closing distance seemed to be going for the two more powerful channelers in the group. The Cloud Dancer turned her attention on those Trollocs that would dare try and attack her Memma and used whips of air that were razor sharp to slam into those at the front of the charging pack. Three fell almost immediately.

With grim satisfaction at the results, Tia pulled on more weaves of air, but before she could unleash more havoc, an arrow slammed into her thigh. Storm spun in place and let out a nervous whiny, but didn’t bolt, a testament to her training. Tia’s grip on the One Power wavered as she cried out, and the thunderstorm seemed to waver with it. Pain shot through Tia, but she knew the party was out numbered.

Doing her best to push the pain from her mind, Tia re-doubled her efforts to emprace Saidar and fed the storm she’d called upon to keep the hounds at bay. Focus was a struggle. Holding on to the storm was possible, but attempting to create other weaves was testing Tia’s limits. She saw a Trolloc close distance, seemingly focused on Zeen. The Aes Sedai snarled as she pulled weaves of Air, Fire, Water and Earth together and focused a bolt of lightning at the beast charging in. It slammed into him squarely in the chest, throwing the twisted beast back some fifteen feet.

With one Trolloc dispatched, Tia tried to focus on the chaos around her, but felt herself straining. For now, she’d have to focus on the storm, and the odd bolt of lightning as she could, and hope those around her could help pick up the slack.

[Jenn]

OOC note: I’m having trouble getting in touch with pre-bond, pre-M’Hael Zeen. Originally this was to all occur as he was Captain-General, but due to what I just mentioned and to things happening that I want to include as plot and character fodder... I’m going to just write him as he is now. It won’t really affect anything else, save my own internal timeline... buuuut... magic. *jazz hands*

---
Zarius Iiro

She was not the prettiest thing he had ever encountered in his life, nor was he the most handsome, but the two soldiers sprawled across his bed with him were eager, warm, and most importantly, willing. Zeen allowed himself to indulge in the exquisite distraction of soft skin, eager lips, and the thrill of exploring and tasting.

He vaguely recalled falling asleep with limbs wrapped around his body, pressed against contrasting sensations of soft curves and hard muscle. Callie’s disapproval had been a caustic mountain that tapped incessantly at the back of his mind as he unmasked the bond. Zeen stood in the middle of the cold room now, bristling with saidin. He did not remember waking up. He did not remember leaping to his feet. He did not remember seizing the Power. Flat grey eyes registered that Callie was standing in front of him, barring the way, her only arm poised to level the wicked flanged mace she held at whatever it was that was attempting to beat down his door.

The Amadician relaxed as the summons to ride was relayed, Yelled, rather he thought with detached humour, through the door, the brief explanation equally curt and brief as he released his hold on the Source. The salty broad spun around, glaring at him, before chasing the two soldiers out from his bed with sharp eyes and even sharper words.

“There was no need to threaten them.” He did not so much as glance up as he began locating his clothing, his voice mild and provocative.

Callie did not answer immediately as she threw the few belongings she had into her saddlebag, cinching the top closed with a furious jerk of her teeth. “Hurry up,” was all she said, striding out to wait for him in the hallway. “And put on some bloody breeches!”

Zeen bared his teeth at the empty doorway, running a hand through tousled brown curls in an effort to tame them. He hissed as his fingers snagged painfully against a snarl of tangled hair. This far away, he felt little from Red save the general direction of the smaller man and that the Altaran lived. That was good enough for now. Jaryd had not been sent after him, playing fetch at Ninya’s behest. The M’Hael slammed his fist down onto the table, the stinging ache of bruised knuckles the only outward indication of his displeasure. He pulled on his shirt as he left the small room behind, swinging his saddlebags over his shoulder. Long legs ate up the distance to the stables, Callie an angry boulder at his side.

The death glare his bondmate leveled at him stopped him from even attempting to offer help, the Asha’man instead seeing to his own dun gelding that he had cleverly named Dun. Lips quirking in private amusement, he took up his position near the rear of the column.
~^~ Silver-grey eyes went flat, the colour turning cold, like granite. He did not need to hear Mia to know that something was very wrong. He could see it in the way she held herself, could see it in the way her Warder-husband moved. Callie echoed those movements, a rumbling deluge of caution and frustration. Moments later, any doubt was erased as the group around him shifted into a defensive formation. It did not seem right that he was in the middle while the nublets - his nublets - formed a protective ring of bodies around him.

The pace was slow and painstaking as they neared the outpost that looked thoroughly abandoned. The female warrior that moved as his shadow growled as Mia ordered them back, weapon flying up into her hand. Zeen felt the hairs on the back of his neck lift in screaming protest as everything around him exploded in sound, arrows, and Trollocs. Like a tainted tide they poured out of the outpost.

Bloody flaming ashes...

“Nugget!” Callie cried, metal flashing in the sun as the aimed her mace to the side. Icy fire prickled up and down his arms, the M’Hael shivering reflexively in response.

Saidin lit the world from horizon to horizon, Earth leaping and thrashing in emerald brilliance as he nodded, the Void stealing the emotion and inflection from his voice. “I see them.” Frustration danced along the numbing edges as he realized he could not simply bury the Shadowspawn. This close, anything he did to the Trollocs and the outpost risked destabilizing the ground they stood on as well. He gnashed his teeth together. As he knocked the first rank of Trollocs off their feet with carefully directed quakes and tremours, droplets of rain began to fall. He created an earthen trench between the group and the beasts that sought to flank them, twisting flows of Power hollowing out the surface of the ground and pushing back the advancing tide, at least a little.

He grunted as the back of a mailed fist smacked into his chest. Irritation flickered but failed to find purchase. Zeen lifted his eyes to where the mace pointed. He felt his mouth go dry. Well. That was new. Draghkar. And Darkhounds. Fire circled and breathed like a living thing as he filled the trench with thick crimson flows, setting them and tying them off so that the rain would have minimal effect. That should keep some of the Trollocs busy. He nudged Dun out around some of the trainees, picking out the tall Terric easily among them.

Zeen’s brows arched a little as he accepted the battered patch from the Ji. It rolled between his fingers, and he felt the corners of his mouth lifting a little. “From what we know, Trollocs are divided into twelve bands,” he explained, reaching down with his free hand to scratch the dog behind its ears. “There are other bands and other symbols, but I will keep to what is known. This... badge, bears the mark of the Ghob’hlin band.” The Asha’man pronounced the name harshly, his tongue curling.

And there was the doveling. And Tia... he was in front of the line of nublets that were meant to protect him. Zeen turned his head to watch impassively as an arrow grazed his foot, embedding itself into the rust-coloured dirt. Dun flinched, but did not bolt. Fire and Earth wound into the Amadician’s hands again. The land beneath him rippled for a moment as he drove the weaves beneath the surface of the ground, forcing the flows of Power forward, faster, harder, a rippling shockwave slamming into the center of the group. The ones in the direct path were turned into something akin to jelly, those farther out tossed upwards and outwards like refuse. A brief moment of stillness seemed to fall over him before he directed a pillar of fire up, flames erupting up from the ground where the shockwave had ended. Half a dozen Trollocs were incinerated on the spot. The hard smile that came to his face held no warmth.

He could hear Callie hollering insults, feel her blistering hate and fierce satisfaction pour through the bond. Zeen wheeled Dun around, his attention focusing on the Darkhouds. They... were not advancing yet... why? He began readying more flows of Earth, wishing to simply swallow the hounds whole and entomb them deep within the ground when... the oddest sound reached his ears. His head cocked to the side and for a moment, the bond flared with panic. The scar on his forehead twinged and he started to look for his bondmate... but then he heard it again.

His brows went up. Music? It was music... sweet, lilting... completely out of place... but Callie... the salty broad had been worried. Afraid, even. It... something was wrong... his thoughts listed to the side as the music came again, filling and clouding his senses. His awareness of the bond dulled and when he pushed back blindly, the music sounded, louder. It sang to him, enticing and promising... insistent, even... and soon it was all he could hear. His face went slack, saidin slipping from his grasp. Why had he been holding it...? The music... Light, but it was beautiful. Where was it coming from? He wanted to find it. He had to... find it... The Amadician slid off Dun and did not even feel his boots touch the ground. It was as if he was floating.

“Nugget!!”

His head lifted. Light, but it felt so heavy. He felt groggy. The music... what? He kept walking forward, towards the beautiful song.

“Nugget!!”

He felt something stir through him, a flicker of terror that did not belong to him. Who...?

“ZEEN!!”

That was his name. The voice sounded familiar. The Asha’man turned around slowly. His brow furrowed as he saw her - my bondmate - yes that was it, his bondmate, running towards him. He did not understand. The confusion and vulnerability on his face was laid out and naked for anyone to see. “Callie?”

“Zeen!!” She was trying to smash her way to him, but there were Trolloc bodies in the way. Why was she so afraid? “Stop!”

“But...” he frowned, glancing back over his shoulder at the tall, slender form, leathery wings unfurled and outstretched, drowning him in the shadow of its song. “The music,” he tried to explain, the words forming awkwardly on his tongue. “Do you not hear the music?” He started to turn back towards the source of the devastatingly beautiful sound, the blood red lips and sharp pointed teeth filling his vision.

He grunted as something thudded into his shoulder, a fraction of a second before pain seared and crackled along his arm. The impact drove Zeen to the ground, the abrupt smell of burnt flesh driving the haze from his mind. He could not feel one of his hands. He was flat on his back, blinking up at the sky through streaming eyes as he ground his teeth together in the effort not to howl. No... no collar... it was... he was free. He could still move. Fingers tore at the ground as he tried to pull himself up, the air hissing from him in an audible sound. A guttural groan sounded as he twisted to look at what under the Light had hit him. An arrow. In his shoulder. Not of Trolloc make. Burns all along that same arm.

Dragkhar.

He fed everything to the Void, his pain and his rage going last, and as Callie yanked him to his feet, Zeen shook himself as if coming awake. He did not so much as flinch as his bondmate matter-of-factly snapped the feathered shaft as close to his body as she could. She prodded at the burns and murmured something about needing to have them tended to soon. Someone... had saved him.

“You owe them,” the woman snapped as if reading his thoughts, jerking the mace head towards the group.

He looked over and saw that it was Terric and Avyra. Zeen bowed his head in acknowledgement, the Void keeping the searing agony at bay. “I will thank them afterwards. Where did the Dragkhar go?” Before Callie could answer, a soul-shivering howl sounded. They did not have time to speak further, saidin coming again as one of his Warders herded him back into the marginal safety of the group. His right arm hung at his side, limp and useless. Red... I am sorry... Flows of fire leapt from Zeen’s fingertips and wrapped around one of the hounds. The fire burning so hot that it turned the tainted creature into a moving pile of char.

Bloody flaming ashes...

[Locke]

Terric

“You can’t come with me today,” Terric said to his companion. The big golden dog simply barked once. Terric shrugged, there was no arguing with that logic. The duo sat alone towards the edge of the muster field. With a full quiver of arrows and his spears tucked behind his bow case, there wasn’t much Terric had needed to do when he was awakened by the messenger. Now, he and Dog Gaiidin, who had even less gear to prepare, sat to against a wall as people rushed to and fro carrying weapons or leading horses. Once the chaos began to die down, and the members of the expedition were taking their places in the order of march, Terric and his dog took up a position near Muireen and Avyra.

“Are you sure you’re going to be able to keep up?” Muireen asked, looking down at him from her horse.

“I’ll try not to out pace you,” Terric said stretching. He’d learned from his friend Gaval Hanania that only heroes in stories galloped their horses for an entire journey. The warriors in this band would want their horses fresh for battle, and night riding already put horses at risk. He and Dog Gaidin would use the times when they moved at a trot or walked the horses to catch up. He knew he couldn’t keep up with a horse at a full gallop, but he could keep up at his top speed much longer.

When the gates were flung open and the column set off at a brisk trot, Terric realized, much of the fear he had carried with him earlier in the trip had retreated. He was sure it wasn’t gone, but it had been replaced by a more familiar feeling. The Black Fortress’ existential fear had been replaced with the nervous excitement of going into battle. Battle was familiar territory for a veteran Algaid’d’sisway, he no longer tried to count the number of skirmishes, raids, and pitched battles he’d participated in over the last two decades. He fell behind when the housemen kicked their mounts into a full gallop, but it didn’t matter, he would be there on time. Terric simply fed any doubts he had to the Flame and ran on in the Void.



It was a trap. That was becoming rather obvious with the horde of Trollocs boiling out of the fortress gates. The outpost was obviously overrun so a fighting retreat was in order. The Channelers were holding their ground though. Whatever choice they were going to make, they needed to do so as a group or they would be picked off and killed. Fight or run, a few dead trollocs would go a long way. He knocked an arrow and let it fly. He let a second fly. Then a third. The Channelers went about their grim work, blasting the monsters into the air. An expected rain began to fall, probably more work with the Power. His bow string would be ruined soon. In the Threefold Land, archer’s never had to worry about such things.

As if an ever growing horde of trollocs wasn’t bad enough, Terric could hear a melodic sound above the sounds of battle.

“Draghkar!” he yelled, recognizing the familiar crooning. Raising his voice, Terric began to sing at the top of his lungs, “Wash the spears while the sun flies high! Wash the spears while the sun falls low!” Hopefully he could drown out the draghkar’s song.

Terric could hear a clear female voice raised above the den. “Roll me over in the clover,” she sang. “Roll me over, lay me down, and do it again.” It was Muireen. Her voice was quavered with fear, but she had caught on.

“Make noise! Keep singing!” Terric shouted, “Wash the spears who fears to die? Wash the spears no man I know!”

Muireen continued singing her bawdy tavern song, “Now this is number one and I'm buttering up her bun. Roll me over, lay me down, and do it again.” Voice stronger, she moved into the second verse. Others around them were beginning to sing as well. Their voices rose in defiance, over a dozen voices singing over a dozen different songs.

Spindly as they were, draghkar weren’t much of a threat without the element of surprise. Terric and his small corner of the fight were safe, well as safe as they could be with trolloc arrows zipping through the air. Other sections of the battle weren’t faring as well. The flying monsters swooped down amongst soldiers and Channelers doing their best to enthrall and deliver their fatal kiss.

A tall Asha’man walked slowly towards one of the creatures. Even in the darkness and rain, he recognized Zarius Iiro. The man was supposed to be a fierce warrior with the Power. Why didn’t he just burn the draghkar where it stood? The creature stretched out it’s leathery wings to embrace him. He didn’t have much time, he raised his bow and shot. The Asha’man dropped to the ground, clutching his shoulder. Terric grunted. That was embarrassing, he’d meant to shoot the the draghkar. His second arrow slammed into a batlike wing pinning it to the thing’s chest. The third took it through the neck.

He didn’t have time to take pleasure in his kill though. He could hear hooves pounding on the wet ground. Something was charging towards him, from the trolloc lines. He turned just in time to see a myrdraal mounted on a massive black stallion charging towards him. The fade’s cloak was unaffected by the violence of its charge. The black sword came crashing down towards Terric’s head, spraying water. Terric did the only thing he could, he lifted his bow to block as he threw himself aside. The black blade lodged in the wood, twisting and splintering the bow.

Breathing heavily, he pulled himself to his feet as pulling one of his spears free. The myrdraal was circling around to come again. Terric lifted his spear, holding it in both hands, bracing for the charge. Teeth gritted against the thunderous charge, Terric readied himself. He would only have a small window. As soon as the myrdraal closed to striking distance, Terric lunged forward, thrusting nearly a foot of Power wrought steel into the black beast’s neck. The giant stallion floundered, knocking him aside before crashing to the ground and tumbling several yards. The myrdraal leapt to its feet and charged.

Groaning, Terric pulled himself back to his feet. His spear had been ripped from his hands and he was covered in bruises and scrapes. He pulled another spear free and prepared to meet the fade’s assault. The myrdraal seemed to flow forward, fixing Terric with it’s eyeless glare. Terric could feel an iron fish clenched around his heart. Even in the Void, he could feel the creature’s gaze.

It attacked in a blur, black blade slashing and stabbing from twenty different directions. Terric was forced back, dodging and twisting, using his buckler and the shaft of his spear to knock away the blows. He couldn’t keep this up. The fade stabbed for his heart and he twisted away, blade scraping a line of fire across his ribs. A pained hiss escaped his lips. He definitely couldn't keep this up. He had to go on the attack. It was the only way. Buckler just below eye level, spear thrusting at chest level, he rushed the myrdraal. The black blade flicked up to parry. Power wrought steel met steel forged in the valley of Thakan'dar with a blue flash.

True the spear’s tip was the focus of the Aiel fighting style, but the buckler, the hands and feet, and the spear’s butt were all effective weapons. Terric attacked with everything he had. The myrdraal batted away his first thrust but the follow up caught him off guard. Terric slammed the spear’s butt down into the creature’s skull. Pain blossomed in his knee as he slammed it into the myrdraal’s hip. A black gauntleted fist slammed across his jaw, snapping his head back and flinging him away.

Shaking spots from his vision, Terric climbed to his feet for a second time. Spitting out a glob of blood he charged the myrdraal. They met with another flash of blue, as they ducked and weaved, attacked and counterattacked vying for an opening. There, the myrdraal attacked low. Terric lept to the right stabbing down into the fade’s shoulder as the black sword bit into his hip.

The myrdraal threw its head back and let out an inhuman shriek. It twisted and flailed in agony and Terric’s wrist flared in pain as his spear was ripped from his hand. The wounded fade’s fist sent him flying again. He looked up from where he’d been flung to see a black boot careening towards his face. It impacted the bridge of his nose with a sickening crunch and a flash. He peeled his eyes open to see the myrdraal standing above him, sword poised to take him through the neck.

“Wash the spears who fears to die,” Terric grunted out through swollen lips. Every man woke from the dream at some point. He would have prefered not to today and facing death in the eye did not mean he would go down without fighting. Without warning, he reached for his belt knife. The Myrdraal was faster, trapping his hand under a heavy boot. It lifted the sword again but it’s head snapped back a metal fan lodged where a eye would have been. Another fan burried itself in the creature’s bicep and it turned to run. Terric rolled his head back to see Muireen standing above him, a third fan flying from her fingertips. With a small smile, she reached out a hand to help him up.

[Bella]

Blood spattered onto Miahala’s face as a Trolloc head went flying from its body, hitting the ground with a wet thud and rolling away when kicked by the back foot of her spinning mount.

She spit the warm, metallic liquid out and then lashed out with cords of Air. They wrapped around a man-beast rushing towards the group, halting its progress. It flailed both weapon-hand and empty hand, trying to swim against an impossible, invisible current. She pushed it back, knocking it into its fellows. Some pushed it around, but she held it fast. This achieved them injuring it, but she held firm.

Spinning the five powers together, she twirled the Rod of Storms into the space created by the Air-bound creature.

It was far enough away to spare any of her group, but deep enough in that when she released the invisible tie, it exploded and tore apart as much flesh as it could reach. The pile that fell around this epicenter of devastation steamed into the dry Blight air. The Trollocs around it seemed to realize that something terrible had happened that they couldn’t see, only the result of, and they steered clear of that spot based on their animalistic instincts.

The Green risked a glance around her and saw the beating that her group was taken. She had such power at her call, and yet it was not enough to spare them all of this. This was too much for her to handle, even as powerful as she was.

That fact rankled deep inside her. If we all die, it will be my fault… How could she lead them into this trap?

We were set up. She had trusted the outposts. The information had been from within...so who?

There wasn’t time to wonder about it. The fight was too much. She had to turn back to it, and she did. Whips of razor Air. Blood boiling beneath flesh. Lightning strikes in the middle of the hordes that sent bodies flying in every direction, taking out others with them. Someone slayed the Draghkar. The rains came, and Mia felt sure her kin was at work…

Then, something happened.

She didn’t know what it was then, or how it was even possible. In all her ages to come, she would never be able to figure it out. She just knew that something happened.

Suddenly, her world began to quiver. It began slightly at first, so slightly that she almost didn’t notice it amongst the ardor of battle. Then her equilibrium was shaken, and she began seeing things. At first it was hard to tell if she was seeing false images or not, they bore so close to reality, but then they looked like faces of people she knew to be not there…

Or did she?

Everything began unraveling, and she desperately tried to hold onto the threads.

She was in the middle of a battle. This was no time to come undone!

The darkhounds were getting closer...right? She spun around and lashed out with a bolt of lightning. She missed. It hit the ground and exploded next to...someone. Was it a Trolloc? Was it someone she knew?

The world swam, and the images danced before her.

What was happening?

OOC: Okay, not my best work but this is a plot post that moves us into the final phase of things. Miahala--and Zeen if Jenn is up to it!--are going to be affected. They will still fight the bad guys sometimes, but sometimes might make a mess and get someone from the group. Or close to. Play with it. Run wild with the effects. They will get progressively worse, so you’ll have a fight on two sides. You can try to restrain them during the fight or just finish it and hope they don’t kill you in the meantime LOL.

Aside from the lunatic Greens within, you can start moving the fight towards it’s conclusion.

--Kill the last of the hounds
--Get to the Fade! Once it dies, the rest of the Trollocs will be easy to route. Kill most, some will run. Up to you guys. Post at will and it all ends when the Fade dies. Then y’all get to deal with Mia and Zeen.
--Attempts to restrain them will not be 100% successful until after the fight, ‘cause I’m mean that way. After that, we’ll wrassle.

If you have any ideas you aren’t sure of or want to ask questions, just let me know! Have fun!

[Locke]

Terric

Battle raged around him. Blood dripped from several wounds and others were beginning to swell. The Void however, kept the pain at bay. Muireen had been separated from him at some point but he forged on. He was aware of two things: his right hand refused to work and the Myrddraal had to die.

Discarding his buckler, Terric drew his last spear in his left hand and dashed off in the direction he’d last seen the twisted creature. He ducked between fighting men and trollocs, gate uneven as blood dripped from his hip wound. Finally, he found it, spear still sticking from its shoulder as it callously hacked a pair of soldiers to pieces. The creature turned to him, kicked aside a disembodied head, and charged. This time, it didn’t toy with him. The black blade lanced forward like a striking viper. Terric rushed forward, ducking low, putting everything behind his left handed spear thrust.

The moment hung in the air, stretching into eternity. The Myrddraal’s decapitating swing lightning speed slowed to creeping honey. Pain creeping in around the outside of the Void. His wrist, his hip, his jaw. Throbbing pain shook the Void. Each pulse brought the Void one step closer to shattering. Win or lose, this fight would be determined in this moment with this blow.

The black blade parted the air above Terric’s head, cutting a few unruly hairs in its passing. After one last crystaline second, the Void shattered. Terric’s spear struck home, ramming up into the twisted creature’s soft under arm.

Exquisite agony flooded in from every direction as his momentum bore the Myrddraal back. Blackness clawed at the edge of his vision, but he did not have time to fade. To fade meant death. The Myrddraal toppled back, flailing, battering at him with inhumanly strong limbs. Releasing his spear, he clawed awkwardly for his heavy bladed knife. Pinning the creatures sword arm beneath a boot, he began the grisly task of hacking the creature limb from limb. The strength slowly drained from his body as, but it had to be done. As he began to hack at the creature’s maggot pale neck, the ground lurched beneath him, tossing him into the sky.