Shift 1: Commandos and Ravagers

[Ashfalcon]

"I am Birno," said the Brown, leaving his ostensible Warders behind him as he approached the circle of Aes Sedai and Asha'man. "Asha'man of the Brown Ajah. I am here to chronicle the actions of the Tower, and make whatever observations I can of this False Dragon. I defer to any decisions you might make; I merely wish to bear witness to them, and record them for our history."

Behind them, the Gaidin leaned forward and spoke softly to the two Drin. "Listen well. When you are bonded, you will need to know your Channeler's mind as well as their orders. That we are not in danger now does not excuse any of us from remaining alert."

"Yes, Master Warder," said Safaire, and Illa nodded. She'd known Birno long enough to be able to predict him, but direct advice from a proper Warder would be foolish to ignore. The man stepped back, looked over their armor and equipment, and nodded to himself; Illa did her best to ignore him and pay attention to the Channelers, but the implied approval felt good.

She waited with Birno as he fell silent, watching for the Red Ajah to signal their direction.

[Dan]

Cold grey eyes regarded the younger folk before him, dry lips still and silent. Their words stirred feelings in his heavy heart, the tones in their voices, the life in their eyes. The old man was taking care to listen, he tool care to watch, and most importantly, he knew to wait. In his mind, he visualized that old sword of his, hanging above his hearth. A swordsman knew when to strike, and when to wait, and reposte.

We're his past loves to ask him, he'd be hard pressed to deny affection for this younger generation. The faces of the young replacing the faces of those lost to the wheel. He'd support these children, it was his duty, after all. Different Ajah's, open with each other. Asha'man and Aes Sedai treating gaidin and gaidar with the respect entitled to them. He'd smile, but he was sure some Cairhienen out there would get suspicious about something or other.

Much like the Warder had done, the Asha'man looked over their equipment, with Saidin itself. Like very few in Hama Valon's history, he had certain specialized talents with the earth weaves. There were many things he could no longer do, age of the mind took it's toll eventually, after all. But if you do weave certain threads enough, they became an integral part of your experience as a channeller. But there was one thing, amongst a very limited skillset, he could still see, and feel, and experience the very ores of the weapons and armor present. Delving the weapons, analyzing their cores.

The Asha'man nodded in satisfaction after his investigation. Hama Valon does itself proud,i he thought to himself as he reflected on the maintenance the equipment had clearly benefited from. Old habits died hard, it was a habit of his old self to put extra consideration in equipment maintenance, he could let the younger folk figure things out, if they need him, well, that's a line they will all cross when they get there.

[Chris]

Nate looked at the other Non-Reds with polite interest. It would be hypocritical of him to deny any of them a space at the Red table - nor did it feel like his place, really - but at the same time, if he was being invited to give his opinion, then give it he would.

There was something about the older man who neutrally dodged around the actual name giving - any channeller worth their salt knew how to omit a simple truth, not that Nate had any reason to do so in his Non-Oathsworn state - that tickled the back of Nate's mind. Sadly, various instances of being hit in the head, having plenty of Compulsion, and whatever the heck transpired in Viadulo, had left sufficient plot-relevant holes in his head that meant he didn't make the connection with that painting in the Blue quarters, or the name he may have scanned across a history book at some point. Still, that slight unease of being a wilful youth faced with age and experience sat on him a little bit. Maybe it made him project his voice a little more, puff his chest out a bit as if he didn't already take up considerable space. Maybe it was all far more internal than any of the above, but it was still there.

The nerdy Brown was neither here nor there with his retinue. Heck, having some observers and recorders might actually be pretty cool, having people to write down his deeds and accolades.

"Alright," here the Blue looked around and, in a fit of pique, plucked out a scrip of paper and pencil from the bag of one of the other channellers without asking. He idly and thoughtlessly made a small table of cloudy Air, tied it off, and set the paper down. His right hand pinned the curled edges down as he scrawled with his left; after a moment of concentration (and dramatically raking his hair back from the paper a few times as he hunched over) Nate had presented a rough, but not entirely inaccurate map of Tar Valon as he remembered it. "Soooo," he said, now brandishing the pencil like a pointer in a hand marked with graphite along the side, "reports say that this is probably the building that's being guarded. Then over here... across the way... is where this False Dragon is. What's the Red's MO? Maintaining order and preventing the misuse of the Power? I'd say they're prime targets. Getting their interest might bring out the False Dragon. I say we split up - have a bunch of Reds handle those guys and while they're distracted, some of us head on in and get this False Dragon!"

This was, unfortunately, not without flaw if rumours of the ter'angreal were to be believed. That was another building marked on his map. One of the NPC Reds pointed it out, so Nate drew an X. "Start there then, break some shit, then storm the castle. It ain't subtle but neither are we." He gave the group a toothy grin, though he reigned himself in and straightened up when he was met with a lot of Reds. "I mean, uhh, that's just my suggestion," he added diplomatically.

[Ashfalcon]

OOC: Since we seem to have run aground a bit, I'm going to throw in a couple of NPCs.

IC:
"A moment, Blue weather-weaver," Kailos cut in before his wife Loisa could lose her temper and turn this from a well-planned capture to an accidental civil war. He could see from the way she stood that she was fuming already. "You will allow that the Red has some small experience with these situations?"

He continued on without waiting for a response. "The map is helpful, and I thank you for it. However, we are not Greens; we do not charge in uninformed and without a plan. This False Dragon is said to be protected by some mysterious ter'angreal, and it would be folly to assault him without knowing more. This is a hunt, and a proper hunter begins by studying the prey."

"Yes," Loisa affirmed. "In addition, we must consider the learning ranks. Some may have been traitors, but I understand that others were simply kidnapped. If we simply move in, we place their lives at risk." She swallowed, then added reluctantly: "We welcome your help, especially if your Talents can help us locate the missing students and evaluate the threat. But a direct assault, at this point? Madness."

[Dan]

Once he had been the First Selector, head of the Blue Ajah. But he had made many a friend in his era, and a few of those had been experts on the production and use of Ter'angreal. And as M'Hael, he had used the position to further educate himself on the matter, not only for the sake of community, but he personally enjoyed the field of study and craft. He himself had made several minor Ter'angreal, things today's students would make with ease during the middle of their studies.

The old Asha'man looked upon the speaker, and said; "child, what else do you know of this Ter'angreal? Much can be surmised of how it works by the way the materials transmute during production. There have been many papers written on the subject, perhaps with a little information,we can better prepare ourselves ahead of time." As the old Asha'man's voice echoed in the air, an arthritic hand reached down out of sheer habit for the hilt of a sword. But in his condition, that was no longer a possibility.

He began to softly whisper to himself, recalling out loud about a sort of protective Ter'angreal former M'Hael Daimenin had created to keep the tower safe, revealed the day Hama Valon had finally been finished. A smile creeped into his expression, the blue fondly remembering the indigo Asha'man. Alric too, another former m'Hael, and brilliant expert on the field. Old colleagues. If he could, he'd shed a tear, to accompany the sad expression on his wisened face.

[Bella]

Andraste listened as much to the words as she took in how people said them, how everyone conducted themselves. Group discussions like this were typically rife with subconsciously-given clues that even the best of them could not entirely conceal. She was sure that others could pick up some things about her as well, but she didn't let that stop her.

In its way, this was a negotiation. She had learned how to do that plenty in her "before times," her life before the Grey Tower. It was a life she would never forget, despite how much this place became one's identity.

"Well, then, we <i>do</i> we know about this ter'angreal?" she posited, choosing now to re-enter the conversation. "According to what the M'hael told us, all we know is that is offers this False Dragon some type of invulnerability. He cannot be targeted directly by Saidin, but we don't know if it blocks Saidar.

"The way it was described as being in the White Tower's lower levels and needing a guard, I would offer the surmise that it is not a small item to be simply carted about in one's pocket. So for those among us with more experience in objects of the One Power, does this strike anyone as familiar?"

This was not her own personal area of expertise, though the Reds did need to have some knowledge of angreal and such because one never knew if the rogue channelers they pursued might have one. Her dark eyes flashed around to each member of their little enclave.

[Ashfalcon]

"I, um, might have something to contribute," Illanova said, and stepped forward. "My left hand is artificial, a ter'angreal. It works as a hand for me, but it also disrupts both Saidin and Saidar. I have been... reluctant... to let anyone study it, or even know about it, but if there's any chance that this other ter'angreal behaves similarly, well..." She swallowed. "I only ask that you don't remove it, or destroy it. Without it, I cannot be an archer, or much of a warder."

One of the reds turned, approached, lifted her hand, and then frowned as she tried to channel. "Where did you get this, child?"

Illa swallowed again. "In the Tower of Ghenjei."

"How...? No, later for that. We must examine it, and I suggest we send for the Indigo to assist us. The Red has its pride, but this is their specialty."

[Dan]

"Stop" the old man's voice called out, a thread of anger giving his tone obvious displeasure. "We will not use authority to lay claim on the sacrifices of others. If the child was brave enough to speak out as she did, we will not betray her trust." There was no hate in the Asha'man's eyes, but the mere thought of making a claim of the child's hand, that was offensive to his ears, and he made zero effort to hide his position.

One of his greatest achievements, amongst his great failures, was helping create the House of Hope. He would not allow the faith of the younger generations be abused, or broken. His commitment as a Blue had been to protect the children who were vulnerable and at risk. Some habits, and lifetime commitments, could not be ignored.

"If one were to ask politely, and made legal assurements signed by the Triumvirate of Hama Valon, I think safe arrangements could be made to study the item, while under the absolute purview of it's owner." The old Blue couldn't help but smile, he had practiced law for a small part of his life, it felt nice using those old muscles again.