Ripple Four: Seekings: Setting a Search
written by Croi al’Cor’vron, Caden Ives, Ranno al'Din (NPC), Leisha Lukonia, Croi al’Cor’vron, Thanan Yenge (NPC) and Edon Santagar (NPC)

Sliding from Daishar'dore's saddle as he rode into the Tower stables, Croi looked back over his shoulder as Notrym Aielrohn, his loyal man, slipped through the side door and moved towards him after sighting little activity within the stable itself.

"Croi, this was to be delivered to you this morning, but you were out for your morning ride. Theres been another death in the Yards." Taking the note from Notrym hastilly, Croi glanced at the wax seal before opening the paper. Scowling as he read, Croi cleared his throat and stuffed the paper into his cloak.

"Notrym, time to work. I need you to go into the city and surrounding farmland; watch for any sign of activity in the Shadow: theres quite the problem, and we are prepping for war. Report directly to myself or Leisha Gaidar in my absense." Scowling again as he hastilly removed his steed's barting and saddle, Croi ran over the contents of the note in his head. A drowning, several beatings, and a hanging; and worst of all, an Aes Sedai in its midst, with her three m'taal posing as sa'ji'alantin.

Slipping from the stables, Croi personally carried his gear to his chambers, walking slowly through the yards studying faces. Among the faces missing where those of the sa'ji'alantin, Wesa Drin'far'ji, and numerous other trainees whos names mattered not at this point. Locking his door as he stepped into his room, Croi tossed his gear aside and strode to his wardrobe, producing a map of the Tower. Laying a map of the Tower grounds and area on his table, Croi produced several pins, placing them at the kill sites.

"The gardens..." Croi said quietly to himself, remembering a small clearing used over 30 years ago as a meeting place for the Black Ajah. Setting his peacestrings to fall at a tug, Croi pulled the pins and tucked the map into his cloak with the letter, he would bring everything up with Cpt Ives at a later time. Locking the door behind himself again as he slipped out of the room, Croi made his way cautiously into the gardens, stalking slowly up to the clearing.

Slipping into the trees, Croi pulled his fancloak close in around himself. Approaching slowly and listening for any movement, Croi paused short to check for any activity. Observing the flora, Croi noted the numerous places where something had passed, some more prominant than others.

Careful not to disturb the pathes, Croi moved slowly closer to the clearing, watching for any other sign of activity. Producing the map and an inkpot with quill, Croi started drawing a small diagram in the corner of a page, noting trails and activity within the clearing itself. Stepping carefully from bench to bench, Croi drew in each footprint, making note which belowed to what foot. There were 5 sets of tracks, 3 belowing to boots commonly wore by the learning ranks, a small set, light movements leaving little sign of where they had past. The last were a track he recognized. After following the set foot pattern for 28 years, Croi knew his son's print when he saw it. Finishing drawing in the last print, Croi turned to an empty bottle laying under a bench. It still faintly smelled of wine, and a vintage Croi recognized, though he wasnt positive from where. Tucking it into his pouch, Croi turned his attention to the firepit.

Still warm coals gave away the night prior's fire. Whoever had used the fire either could not channel or did not know how to hide weaves, this Croi knew, furthered by two spent tindersticks laying beside the firepit. Leaving coals was an amateur sign of anybody trying to hide, leading Croi to assume that those who had lit it had not been spooked in the least. Standing back up, Croi made his way back out of the clearing, careful not to disturb the clearing other than smoothing out the ground where the bottle had laid. The least evidence showing in the clearing the better the chances that the occupants would continue using the clearing. Studying the pathes through the trees, Croi marked which path had been made by each person, which in, and which out. Deciding to make his way to the beach to contemplate his findings, Croi cut back out to the trails, casually wondering towards the beach.

When the Warder came out of the clearing, Ranno al'Din stepped out of the low oak's shadow ... emerging to the right of the old Gaidin's path. "Someone told me once," he said, lifting his crossbow casually so that the ready bolt pointed to the old man's heart, "That he will win who knows when to fight and when not to fight."

A wind blew through the undergrowth, stirring the grass below their feet. Ranno's eyes were unblinking ... fixed on the man about to die. He did not know why he wasted time talking to the dead. Maybe, somewhere he owned some respect towards the old veteran. It would not hurt to share his thoughts now. "I know that our veil has been thorn, for else no Warder would thread here and examine this place. The time of secrecy is now over for us. And we will now act towards our aim. Hence I have to fight you now, old man.

He was dressed in his formal sa'ji'alantin uniform, the black coat and breeches worked with a silvery grey on the sleeves and collar. His longsword was sheathed by his left hip and his quiver at the other. The crossbow was of medium weight and could be re-cocked by hand. Yet if his shot would miss, he wouldn't have the time for it. This fact was perfectly clear to him. "The same man told me that he will win who knows how to handle both superior and inferior forces. If I could afford the chance, I would have preferred to face you in a more respectful way. A chance to face a swordsman like you in real combat ... mano a mano ... seldom comes. I don't know if you are superior to me or not if it would come to that. And too much is at stake, so I will have to kill you with this cowardly weapon," he paused, "peace favour your sword, and die knowing you will be followed by many others of the Yards by the end of this day."

And then he fired.

Lei ran her hands over her head, dragging her nails through her hair - almost hard enough to make her scalp bleed. This was all bloody infuriating. She was headed to the gardens, to stop and to think and to go about that which she was told to do.

She was not so sure of how far she'd traveled, but she was approaching an area she was unfamiliar with... and a scene, she did not want to see. She yelled out Croi's name as loud as she could and then pulled her own bow from her back quicker than she ever had before. There was more at stake here then even she realized. She did not have time to see Croi's reaction to her warning, but she had an arrow ready to fly and a warning to this assassin... to surrender now or she would shoot him and at least he would see and know that her arrow was coming for him.

Catching the edge of his fancloak with two fingers as he began to spin to his right and back diagnally, Croi threw the edge high, spinning with the force of the bolt torn through his cloak, barely missing his torso in the process. Shrugging his shoulder to free the scabbard hanging there, Croi caught the hilt of the sword, finishing his spin and drawing his blade around into High Guard.

Spotting Lei out of the corner of his eye with her arrow nocked and ready to fly, Croi scowled at the would-be assassin. "You wont get that chance, m'taal. Submit now or die where you stand. I highly suggest you put your hands behind your head, drop to your knees then lay on your stomach."

Ranno lowered his crossbow somewhat. He is quite nimble for his age? he noted, not turning towards the newly arrived Gaidar.

"I thank you for your suggestions, old man, but I rather stand. It hardly makes any difference now," he said casually, ignoring the underlying threat the Gaidin posed completely. "It seems the tables have turned."

His cruel smile came then and he gave a low whistle, signalling for the three that followed him to come forward. "Or have they?" Three students in the crossbow ... and subjects of his cause alike ... came out from behind trees on the other side of the Gaidin, dressed in drin'far'ji uniforms. "You couldn't honestly think I didn't have a back-up plan, did you? Do reckon me for a fool?"

Two of his students took aim at the Gaidar, while one had his bolt directed to the back of the Gaidin, as he was turned towards Ranno. The Shadowsworn never let his steel-grey eyes off the veteran in the fancloak, while he tossed aside his crossbow and drew his longsword. "It will rain blood this day," he said solemnly, and then turned his head to the two who aimed at the wench. "Could you please kill her before she fires?"

Moving in against the man named Croi, Ranno closed the distance and Moon Rises Over the Water, paired with Tower of Morning.

Noting the shuffle of footsteps behind him, Croi turned his head far enough to see three archers behind him, and rather close. Scowling, Croi growled his responce. "Then you die. Carai an'Cor'vron!"

Matching his words, Croi slid into motion. Replacing the first thrust of Lizard in the Thornbush with Kingfisher Takes a Silverback, Croi blocked the first slash of Ranno's assault, turning hard to his left and sinking below Ranno's second slash. Drawing his blade back from the archer who had had his crossbow aimed at his back, Croi continued his turn, moving into Low Wind Rising to meet Ranno's Tower of Morning, forcing his longsword high to the side before cutting back towards the coward's body with Stones Falling From the Cliffs.

The drin'far'ji falling to his knees, blood gushing from the severed main aorta, would never more wake to a new day of training. His crossbow twanged and sent the bolt deep into the grass by his feet. His boyish face went slack when his high wail died. And as his deep blue eyes rolled back in his skull, he sank to the ground.

In the Void, Ranno's surprise to the Gaidin's swiftness never showed in his face. He just barely got his longsword down to intercept the attack with a matching Stones himself. The advantage of staying undercover for so long in the Yards, Ranno had been taught various techniques by many of the Gaidin. When the steel of their swords joined, they continued to grind at each other. He had locked horns with the old man, and he stared into the man's eyes ... never faltering. "I will drink your blood." Remembering his training with Caden Ives, he broke their stalemate by pushing away his opponent and himself alike ... distancing himself before coming back with Wind and Rain to drive the man back. He tried his best to find an opening and when it came, he broke the form and struck with Parting the Silk - aiming for surprise.

Raising his sword to block the series of chops and thrusts, Croi caught the lad's foot turn, the tell tail sign of the impending spin. Stepping forward, Croi shoved the sole of his foot hard into Ranno's rear, following through with a light poke from his sword to Ranno's right shoulder, stopping the blade short as it released a single drop of blood.

"You are still but a fool child, al'Din, and slow. As for blood, yield now or your lifeblood will soak the trails, I will not warn you again." Dropping low into Leopard in the Tree, Croi prepared to slip forward when Ranno decided to fight.

Letting the void slip, Ranno spun around, his hand moving to touch where the sword had made a small slit in his flesh. His lips curling into a snarl, Ranno barked quickly at Croi, "My steel thirsts for your heart, old man, let it have your blood!". Ignoring the void altogether, Ranno leaped forward into Kingfisher Takes a Silverback, dropping his blade low and coming up into Low Wind Rising.

Scowling slightly at the man, Croi dodged the angered thrust, moving into The Swallow Takes Flight, his slash smashing Ranno's longsword far to the side, leaving him wide open. Following through with his threat, Croi continued the form, thrusting his blade hard into Ranno's chest. Twisting the blade as he pulled it back, Croi stepped deeper into the void as blood ran down his sword, and puddling around Ranno's feet. Stepping back as the young man fell to his knees with a hand covering the gaping wound in his chest, Croi reminded himself this boy served the Shadow. Ranno, veins protruding from his eyes, neck and forehead, shook as he leaned forward, supporting himself with his longsword. Blood pouring out over his lips as he began to cough, Ranno looked down through pain-blurred eyes, his blood bubbling around his hand.

""As men... they say we are all equal in the presence of death. But the Lord of the Grave awaits me now... I hear him... I failed him..." Scowling again, Croi stepped forward, his blade arcing up hard toward's Ranno's neck. Drawing his blade out as his sword severed through flesh and smashed through bone, Croi caught Ranno's body with his foot, pushing it back. Turning so as not to have to watch the head roll, Croi saw the young drin archer, a matching gash in his chest. The difference in which way the blade went when striking a rib made all the difference.

Lei had never let her bow lower and when she saw the other archers she felt her heart pound in her ears and her breath pounded in her chest. However, they took a long time - long in the time of this situation. She moved back behind a tree, covering her body but not her bow. Leave as little as possible exposed. She heard the one in charge tell them to shoot her and as the word slipped past his lips, her bow let loose the arrow and it hit one of the Drin and he dropped immediately. She went for another arrow...

Out of fear for Ranno Al'Din, Thanan Yenge would not back down. He had only hesitated because the Warder he was to kill had been a woman.

Though the sa'ji'alantin's order had jolted him back to his senses and he had lifted his crossbow. He had not yet delived his shot until a bow-string twanged and a scream rang in his ear. He had not been intirely sure it was his friend that had been shot until Ferdean slumped to the grass - arrow his his heart. It could just as well had been him.

He could not risk the three sa'ji'alantin's displeasure - they woudl torture him to death if he was to fail them. His courage manifesting itself in a scream, he did as Ranno had taught him and rushed forward and sideways. The grip of the Crossbow made his knuckles white. His breath sounded hollow in his ears - as if they were nto real anymore.

When he had angled his path and gained enough ground to see the body and face of the Gaidar while she nocked another arrow, he threw himself to the groud and took aim from a lying position.

He would never have the time to reload his Crossbow, so if he missed, he woudl have to draw hsi sword. He knew next to nothing abotu swordfighting yet. His aim true, Thanan pulled the trigger and sent his only bolt flying.

They loosed at the same moment. His movement had forced her to move as well and that had lost her precious time, plus his fall to laying had made her re-adjust. He was good at this. She moved as quickly as she could and they each loosed their arrows at once. Lei had aimed for his heart, but she did not have to see if it hit, as his found itself in her arm. She made a strangled grunt, so as not to scream, as she moved back fully behind the tree, trying to gather the strength to prepare for an attack if she'd missed... and to look to see if she had. She would not be caught blind.

Thanan Yenge did not feel triumph over his hit, for his life was damned.

The arrow the Gaidar had fired at him now sprouted from the soft tissue above his collarbone ... straight from the torso. He had trouble breathing, so he gulped down air, which refused to make it down past his throat. "Mother?" the young man managed, his eyes blank. How could it end up like this? Had he ever had a choice that led away from this ending? What could he have done instead?

His fingers grew numb, yet per mechanical movements Ranno al'Din had made him repeat hour by hour; he cocked his weapon and reached for a new bolt. He did not know what he was doing anymore. The world began to bleach in his eyes. The new bolt was in place, and he folded his elbows to raise his aim again. Mother would never understand his decisions, nor would father. In the end, Thengan did not understand them himself. All he did was out of fear for failure. He would not fail.

Seeing the tree the Warder hid behind, he drew the conclusion that he could not shoot her. The tree was in the way. And he had not the power left in him to move. The aim of his weapon travelled; he had to find a target. He would not fail.

And the only target in sight was Croi Gaidin. From hsi position, he could not see his liege anymore, yet the old man's balde was staiend with blood. His arms not feeling the weight of the Crossbow anymore, he closed one eye and took aim. He would not fail. There is no honour? in failure.

With his final thought, the world turned dark, and he pulled the trigger.

Spying the young man change his aim too late, Croi drove to the side, the bolt sinking into the muscles of his left shoulder. Grunting, he fell to the ground, his hand moving to the bolt. Grinding his teeth, Croi snapped the bolt off an inch from his shoulder before making his way to his feet, his arm simply hanging at his side; his sword grasped tight in blood-soaked hands. Throwing the broken bolt to the ground, Croi shuffled his feet to a sprint, running straight towards where he had seen Lei duck behind a tree after being tagged, though he hadnt seen where the bolt had lodged.

"Leisha!" Screaming her name, Croi burst around the tree, blood dripping from his left hand down to the leaves under the tree.

Lei heard her name screamed out and she braved the look out to see that the shadowed bowman was dead and Croi was running towards her tree, blood covering various areas. She still had the arrow protruding from her arm and she fell back against the tree with releif when she saw him alive... She fell back against the tree, laughing out of release. She looked down at the arrow in her arm. Funny, she didn't feel pain. "Guess I should get this out, huh?" She asked with weak, morbid humor.

Smiling as he saw Lei laugh, Croi spotted the bolt in her arm. Running a hand lightly over her arm across from the bolt, Croi nodded slowly. "Lets get you back into the Tower, we'd do too much damage removing it here." Removing his belt, Croi doubled it over and handed it to Lei.

"Here, bite this; it will help with the pain." Pinching the bolt two inches from Lei's arm with his left hand, Croi wrapped his right hand around ths shaft, steadying it as best possible while snapping the bolt. "Its not bad, you'll be back in action in no time." Smiling softly, Croi stood, offering Lei a hand up.

"We have to report to Cpt. Ives as soon as possible, and this needs to be cleaned up before knowledge spreads; theres no telling what this will stir, and we need to be ready when it does."

Lei hadn't bitten on the belt, as it never really seemed to help. She was teeth grinder by nature anyway. She grunted softly at the breaking of the bolt and then took his hand as he helped her up. "As if this weren't enough of a mess, now we have the politics of knowledge prevention to deal with." She muttered dryly, heavily.

Wrapping his arm lightly across his chest, Croi turned to look at the bodies of the four young men. "These gardens are travelled too much for us to be able to simply leave the bodies, should we stash the bodies and then come back with re-enforcements?"

Lei looked over them, as well, "Except the sight of all that blood won't do the rumors any better, in fact it may be worse for it..." She sighed, and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment to think. "If we're to hide the bodies we must cover the blood, too."

Nodding slowly, Croi looked at the puddled blood. "Sand. We need sand, and a broom. Theres some sand in the clearing, and thankfully I've documented everything there already, so we can take what sand we need from there; at least its close." Scowling slightly, Croi slowly rolled his stiff shoulder, pain rippling across the surface of the void.

Lei glanced side long at him, noting something else near the expression. "Are you all right?" She asked softly.

Looking quickly over at Lei, Croi slowly rolled his shoulder again. "That will light forsaken m'taal was a good shot, thats all." Smiling softly, Croi pulled his cloak forward slightly over his shoulder, careful not to catch the shaft stub with the cloak.

Lei knew the feeling. She nodded brusquely, "Then let us be at this and done with and back to the Tower." She said simply.

Nodding slowly, Croi strode quickly to where his scabbard lay, thrusting the blade quickly in before slinging the sword back over his good shoulder and moving into the clearing to gather sand.

Slipping quickly and quietly through the Tower halls, Croi and Lei quickly approached Cpt Ives' quarters. Looking around quickly, Croi rapped quietly three times on the door. Even if Caden wasnt available, his squire should at least be around, and able to locate Caden quickly.

Opening the redwood door slowly, Edon Santagar appraised the two injured Warders standing outside his master's threshold through strands of dark hair. He knew their names already. As squire to Caden Ives, he was required to know the people in his midst.

Dressed in his white squire's robe, he bowed in the correct angle for their rank while resting a hand on the pommel of his curved sword. "Good day to you Master Croi Gaidin and Lady Leisha Gaidar," he said in his formal voice. Etiquette was of the essence, even if the Gaidin Captain's guests were dirty, bloody and appeared to have murdered their neighbours. "Forgive me if I ask, but do you require some brandy, salves and later cloth to bind your wounds? Or need you find Master Caden right away? If you are, I'm afraid he is in Council with the other Warder Officers. Please, come in though. You really need to have your wounds seen to. Caden tells me I'm as good at stitching wounds as the next man."

Edon, the squire, in his mid-twenties and harsh on himself and his appearence, was to keep to formality no matter what the circumstances.

Stepping quickly into the antichamber as Edon finished speaking, Croi nodded. "Stitching will be needed, but I must first speak to Captain Ives, and I dont care if he is in council with the other Officers, this pretains to them at least. We do, however, have to speak to Caden before all others; there isnt time to wait for the council."

Slowly removing his cloak, Croi began unlacing his shirt, pulling it back to expose the bloody wound in his shoulder. Scowling, Croi glanced at Edon. "If you would kindly pass the summons to the Captain, it would be much appreciated."

With a brief pause of decision, Edon bowed to the Gaidin.

"Certainly, master Gaidin. I will carry the word to the Gaidin Captain myself. Though I urge you to do something about those wounds. Here, I will fetch you the stitching utensils first. I know where Caden keeps them," he said, walking over to a chest standing to the side of his master's wide desk ... which faced a stained glass window displaying a classic battle of the Trolloc Wars. Quickly he rummaged through the contents and found a small flask of very strong brandy together with a coil of boiled horse mane and a sharp needle. He placed them on the desk and lit a thick candle already standing there. Pointing to a smaller table by the foot of the bed, he started towards the door. "I'm afraid there's only lukewarm water over there. However, the sponge there is useful to clean the wounds. I trust you know to heat the needle before putting it to the flesh. Seeing your wound now, I suggest you use your knife first to cut it into a straight line. A long wound heals better than a round one. It can take weeks for a round wound to close itself." He stopped by the door.

"Forgive me if I speak out of turn? but what in the Light happened to the two of you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, he wanted to now before he left them there. He lived for knowledge. "Need I alert the Tower guard of any intruders or the like? Should I tell master Caden what is going on?"

Moving towards the basin as Edon stopped by the door, Croi drew his dagger, laying it beside the basin. "The Guard cannot be trusted at this point, Edon. Time is of the essense, Caden will understand. However, if you can muster a few trustworthy men, I have work for them. They need be top-notch, Edon, but if you would kindly summons two or three... But first pass word to Caden, we can tend to the wounds." Pulling a chair to the small table, Croi tossed the sponge into the basin and poured the water over it. Motioning for Lei to sit, Croi opened the brandy, sniffed, and poured a small ammount over the blade of the dagger, angling the blade by the candle's flame.

Another pause. "Certainly, master Croi Gaidin," he said and bowed, and then did the same to the Gaidar, "Lady Leisha Gaidar."

Turning on his heel, he crossed the antechamber and left his master's quarters behind. I wanted to know what's going on... Though he said that time was of the essence, so I'll have to wait until I bring Caden Ives back here. That is, if he was still alive, for it seemed this day had a lot in store for the Grey Tower. Trainees dead and dissapearing. Turmoil in the Warder Ranks. Who knew what could happen? Who would indeed.

He did know some trustworthy men of his own, through his affiliations in the Tower. And he was sure they would meet Croi Gaidin's expectations, but one could never be too sure with an old Gaidin like him. Running now, he was determined to do his best.

Lei was not one to do what she was told when the situation did not precisely call for it. Thus, she didn't sit down. She walked over to where Croi stood with the dagger and flame, her arm now mostly limp at her side, throbbing as it were but pain she was used to. "Don't think I'll sit down and let you have all the fun." She muttered with a half laugh, both dry and morbid. "What can I do to help?" She asked, although her head was beginning to hurt...

Smiling softly at Lei, Croi angled the blade slightly more. "You will get your fun, but first let me see to your arm, that bolt needs to come out." Setting his dagger aside, Croi reached into the basin, lifting the sponge and looking at Lei's arm.

"We will have to either cut out the bolt, or force it the rest of the way through, your choice." Squeezing some water over the area, Croi gently slid his thumb along her bicep, feeling for the bolthead.

Lei's right eye lid fluttered in a wince for a moment and then she looked up at him, "I don't think its far enough in to come out the other side. Just dig it out." She muttered dryly, digging her teeth in to her lip.

Smiling softly, Croi handed Lei the brandy bottle. "This should help the pain for now." Pulling the candle and dagger closer on the table, Croi ran some water over the wound, inspecting it closely before setting about removing the bolt, as gently as possible. Borrowing the brandy long enough to slosh a little more on the blade and around the wound.

Lei wasn't shy at the bottle, knowing what this was going to be like. She set it down, so she didn't break it in a few moments, and she took a breath. Gently as though he tried, it still hurt like hell, but she grit her teeth and waited it out.

Setting the bloody bolt on the table, Croi once again cleaned the wound. Readying the horse hair and curved needle, Croi soflty pinched the wound closed, the line from the cut drawing the wound to a red line, surrounded by pink skin. Kissing Lei softly on the forehead, Croi looked into her eyes. "Almost done, and as you know the worst is done, so just try to relax for now." Smiling softly again, Croi dosed the hair and needle in brandy before passing it through the flame and set about stitching the wound closed.

Lei couldn't keep from laughing faintly at the 'relax' comment, "You're a very funny man, Croi," She began in lower tones of a tense jaw, "You are still sticking an object through my skin and that's never been something I've been found of." She glanced down at her arm with a 'egh' expression. "Nice to have it done by someone who cares though." She added quietly. She was trying to relax, really... but it really wasn't exactly easy.

Tying off the last stitch, Croi smiled softly. "Of course I care." Kissing her softly, Croi raised the brandy to his lips before removing his shirt. Cloaking himself once again in the void, Croi felt the pain change, distancing itself so that it felt like somebody else's shoulder. "I had hoped the help would be here by now, but Edon is only one man, afterall." Sighing softly, Croi ran his finger lightly over the end of the bolt in his shoulder. "Suppose we had best get this out now."

Return to "Seekings"

Chapter Two: The Martyr's Letter
~Ripple One: All But Pride Mended
~Ripple Two: Serpent in Shawl
~Ripple Three: A Shadow in a Black Robe
~Ripple Four: Seekings
~Ripple Five: The Twin Archers
~Ripple Six: Aftermath
~The Final Ripple

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