Ripple Two: Chance
written by Thepon (NPC), Tan'qui al'Taya, Jolartin Votashen, Durent Antian, Negrath Devir, Firredal Osiellin, Aynaiss Cuelaen-Walker, Traen (NPC) and Castar (NPC)

His white eyes widening by the movement in the courtyard, Sinon Clegine's arms tensed to raise the crossbow in his hands.

Yet he lowered it down the inch again. His world was now the courtyard below. He knew everything that happened down there. And it was not his prey who had walked it into the Blue Ajah Courtyard, but a small entourage led by two Warders and an officer of the Tower Guard. There was a young man with them as well, a Soldier by the look of his uniform. They all seemed alert and their pace was set hard across the open area. None but them occupied the yard, and when they left... six steel-clad guards in their wake... it was empty again.

The albino looked away a few moments after they left his world. He did not contemplate the purpose of the odd group that had passed him, but he had a feeling his current employer was involved. Amora en'Damier, he thought, the calm before the instant of tension parting a little for his rage, For Ranno's death you will die, and after your death my brother I will release. Now come out and meet your fate!

Thunder crashed in the distance, and the winds howled like wolves in the late noon.

When they entered the Green Ajah Halls, Tan'qui saw another group of people coming up to him. There was one stranger, with quivers all over him, but no arrows or a bow. He walked uneasy, and when he focused he could see the threads of Air holding the man. Next to the captured was a Trainee, a Drin if he was not mistaking. Behind them were two channelers, an Asha'man and a Dedicated.

Here's the help you requested, Thepon he thought with a smile. But at the same time he was curious to what those men were doing, and who they had captured. He gave a glance to Thepon, and decided not to anger the man more than he had already, and leave the talking to the two Warders.

Jolartin felt startled as he realized that another group was walking toward them. As both groups stopped, he got a chance to see that the Warders seemed to be attempting to ascertain what was happening. Knowing that his knowledge regarding the Black Ajah's movements within the Tower surpassed all others, but also knowing that knowledge meant little when it injured the pride of a superior, he chose to keep silent.

After their little conversation, he knew that Durent Asha'man would have some ide of his skills, and knew that he would be called upon to speak if needed.

Durent was about to respond to something that Jolartin when he noticed a group of men walking down the corridor toward them. Instinctively he took a hold of saidin but released it once he recognized who it was. Durent recognized Aynaiss Gaidar. She was someone who he knew of but didn't actually know. His eyes then fell upon six tower guards along with the man he saw by his uniform as their captain. He saw also a soldier that he didn't know. Finally his eyes rested, and locked with, Firredal Gaidin. His right fist clenched suddenly, but released itself just as quickly. The two had a history that was not easily ignored. He was able however to keep his face completely emotionless as he addressed them.

"Firredal Gaidin, Aynaiss Gaidar, it's good to see friendly faces. I hope you know what in the Light is going on here, because I've been rudely brought into it by this man here," Pointing to the assasin. "He was sent here to kill someone, Jolartin and I fought him and his brother in the library. We cought him, however his brother is still here on the Tower grounds somewhere." He made sure to tell no lies, without telling them the complete truth of -who- they had come here to kill. Durent would let Jolartin reveal that and the reason behind it if he wished to. "I'd come here looking for Miahala Sedai, but she's not here." He paused for a moment, "Why exactly have you come here?"

Seeing others walk toward them, and tossing a glance over his shoulder to see his companions slowing, he let his blade lift to tap his prisoner on the shoulder to stop him.
Letting it fall back into place between them, he contented himself with listening and watching as initial greetings were exchanged. Evidently both trust and insecurity were in the air, along with a few slightly stronger emotions...
As he perceived none to be aimed his way, he waited for the inevitable word to continue once the road became clear.

Firredal hesitated, looking from one group to the other. Light above, who can we trust? Looking across at the Green Asha'man, he experienced a moment of profound terror at the thought that Durent - or worse, Kylara - might be of the Black Ajah. Ridiculous, he told himself... but the fear remained.

"We come under orders from the Gaidin Captain and Saphire Sedai." Firredal's face was expressionless, and he glanced over the other group. So, two channelers and a Trainee with a captured darkfriend; or three darkfriends with a captured archer. He knew Negrath, at least in passing, and had seen the Dedicated at archery practice in the yards. Not quite Green, and not quite Asha'man, but near enough in both cases. What was his name...?

What decided him was the simple fact that he recognized all three of these men, and not their prisoner. The Grey Tower was unlikely to have called in outside help, but the same did not apply to whatever cabal of Black Ajah and darkfriends was at work here. Therefore the odds were good that the stranger was exactly what he appeared to be, and exactly what Durent had claimed: an assassin. Even so, his words were cautious:

"Sitter, we have one dead trainee and another missing, and a part of the Warders Hall has burned. We were sent to learn what we can of what is happening." He paused - minutely, but perceptibly - then added, "Soldier Tan'qui joined us along the way. If it does not presume too much, may I ask where you were taking your prisoner?"

Aynaiss followed the rest of the group and guard escort over to the pupils holding watching a prisoner. Out of the men guarding, she recognized only Durent Asha'man with a vague memory hazed by the day's incidents and a year or two under their belts. Her mind grazed over the thought of Angel and Beric with worry and anxiousness, although none of that emotion even brushed the firm façade of her face. They were safe, and she needn't worry about them now; Jerid was a fine father to protect them. Aynaiss guided her sword behind her as she maneuvered among standing bodies to get a better look at the prisoner. Bound by air the man was, but the lack of rope made her wary, knowing that if those bonds undone, nothing else would hold the man back; except his wounds might drag him.

She tossed the remainder of her hair over her right shoulder and looked to Durent before quietly commenting "His brother?" Aynaiss blinked, and turned her head to gaze with sharp green eyes at the prisoner. They rested on the man momentarily before they focused on Firredal who was explaining their reason of being here.

A brother? Still roaming the Tower? Aynaiss narrowed her eyes and took in a deep breath of the air, tasting the mood and violence around. Her Talent let her smell the scent sweeping off of the group before her, the student escorts and the man, ecspecially the man. Although not much blood had been shed, she could tell these men had fought recently. Firredal and herself reeked with the aweful musk as well, from capturing Samsu, but her main attention was not on her Talent, but her the hallways around them. Where is his brother...?

Making something invisible was a trick of bending the light. Trean knew that one could become "invisible" by wrapping oneself with light, but it ripples when one moves. By using Fire and Air, the Asha'man had now made him and Castar invisible as they stalked the halls of the Green Ajah. Few in the Tower owned the knowledge to fasten invisibility upon a moving body.

While Castar was more skilled in Earth, Trean was known as one of the most skilled with Illusion in the whole Tower. Thanks to that, they had managed to kill one Sitter this far. Their mission had merely begun, yet it would continue as far as they dared.

Trean brushed long light hair from his face as they rounded the entry of a Hallway and walked across it. Like two ghosts they were. The unseen reapers of the Dark One. The hallway was empty, so he decided to speak to Castar in a hushed tone. "It feels good to carry out the orders of our true leaders at last. For so many years, we've had to be at the feet of ants, doing their bidding. While in my heart, I have yearned for the day when I could pay them all back for the years I've lost doing what the Light-blinded fools wanted."

Though he could not see Castar beside him, besides the faintly shimmering outline of his body, Trean could hear him grunt in confirmation. "And when the day is over, we will be able to return here. And when we do, we rise to Sitters ourselves since the ones above us will be dead, and direct the Grey Tower in the course of the Great Lords wishes. When we have reached that far, I know that we are one step closer to life eternal... by the grace of him."

They fell silent then after spurning themselves to carry on. They needed confirmation that what they did was not pure folly. There was great danger for them to do this, although they had the capability and he element of surprise.

The door on the end of the hallway was open so they did not have to wait until the coast was clear to reach out and open it. As they walked through it, they stopped just beyond the doorframe. Standing very still, they are as good as gone from the real world. They had emerged on a stone walkway that circled a long rectangular hallway, with some stairs nearby who lead to the ground level. Overlooking the expanse of the hallway, they saw a group of people standing quite far below and in front of the door they had come though.

Trean narrowed his completely transparent eyes to see Sitter Durent Asha'man and? the Dedicated Jolartin.

He is the one who can tell our affiliation by sight. He is the one who can sense us. Trean had thought the man had been assassinated already, he had thought it to be done since he and Castar had been sent out on his mission now. Then he saw one of the twin assassins, standing injured and by the mercy of their enemies. Fighting down panic, Trean could see the Dedicated turn his head in their direction. He knows we are here! he did not turn to Castar when he whispered, "Kill the Sitter and the Seer, now!"

At once they turned their heals and walked away from each other, Trean beginning to conjure weaves of nasty intent. Apart, they would not fall victim to one single attack. Castar had already lashed out with the weaves he had held ready, and Trean could see the impacts below. The ground began to shake uncontrollably, and the stone floor erupted in great clefts and great rifts opened up to the next floor, far far below. Great chunks of stoen tore loose and flew towards the group of people, the two channelers in the centre of their course. Not only that, the steel blades of three Tower Guards exploded, sending shards into bodies and armour alike.

Trean, on the other hand, tried something he had not done since many years back. In the Black Ajah's service, he had been taught the forbidden weave named Compulsion. He wove it now, and set the weaves against what looked like the commander of the guards. The Arafellin's head jerked up. I did it! He decided that he had to deal out the order as quickly as he could, and screamed over the deafening noise Castar had called upon. "Kill them all!"

And the great Arafellin leapt forward, engaging battle with the young Soldier... who stood closest. Somewhere, Trean pitied the fate of the young man, and for all of them?

As the first tremble shook the floor, Negrath cursed himself for having neglected the possibility of Powerwrought rescue.
The next moment, he chastised himself; *what could you have done, recruit?*
Refocusing his attention on their captive, he was idly aware of people being threatened, and dangers arising from the most unlikely places.
Bringing the pommel of his blade to the back of Dinan's head*, certain of little other than that it might not have been enough, and that he had not killed him. Whirling, he moved to defend the one responsible for the man's bonds. He could not allow them to be disturbed**...


*:trying to anyway. :)
Just in case the good prisoner would have anything to interject...
**: more than they already has been...?

Keeping her emerald eyes open, Aynaiss looked for any suspicious happenings or whatnot. The captors of the assasin, Durent and Jolartin were still talking with her party of Tan'qui, Firredal, and the Tower guards including their captain. Her nose was still smelling the low wafts of violence around here, but it wasn't that which put her on edge.

Before she could say anything, the hall began to quake as the floor created gigantic chasms. In turn, she heard a noise like glass shattering as the bare swords in the Tower guards' hands exploded, sending shards everywhere that rent flesh and arm alike. Aynaiss shouted a curse before something hit her chest hard, but was thrown several feet across the floor as her own sword exploded at her side. It felt like a horse had collided into her side at a full canter. Breath stolen, she gasped and sat up. She looked down to her chest and saw metal wedges sticking out of her armor like pins in a pincushion. Eternally grateful that she had put on that leather armor, she tore them out, only a few tips stained red at the end from going all the way through her armor.

Crumbling stones flew at them like annoying bitmes, but all of those standing mananged to dodge them. Leaping up to her feet, she about rushed to begin fighting with Tan'qui, who was now being onslaughted by the Captian Thepon in full rage. Feeling at her side, she rememeber. Her sword had exploded, and she was weaponless. Knowing unarmed combat, well enough, she'd much rather have a sword in her hands. Or a quarterstaff. A quarterstaff!

Aynaiss slid over to the nearest tall floor candlelabra, she hastily brushed all the candles off of their holder with her right arm. Helfing the wrought metal into both her hands, she felt the weight of it and nodded. Close enough, I guess. Coming over to the fight with Thepon, she quickly smacked a flying stone away with her candelabra, before watching for an opening.

Tan'qui felt the weave as it exploded, and knew it was earth. Then the ground shaked, the swords of the guards exploded, pieces of metal flying everywhere. Without thought, he wove earth, and managed to get a shield of pure earth up before any of the shards reached him.

As he took in more Saidin, he drew his Katana ... only to notice it had exploded as well. The wooden sheath had protected him from harm. Wooden sheath? Better than nothing. He believed in combat on more than one point, so he kept the sheath, as a backup. Suddenly, he saw Thepon attacking him like a rabid dog, and he struggled to defend himself using his sheath, while he used Saidin to battle the earthquake. He didn't think he was as powerful as the one making these weaves, but Earth was his strongest affinity, and he should be able to do something. He barely noticed the Gaidar, Aynaiss, coming up and joining him, using a candlelabra as a quarterstave.

He backed off a little, leaving the fight mostly to the experienced woman, only helping out when needed most. He found a pattern in the weave. Using a counterpattern, he drew all the Saidin he could, and calmed down the floor underneath the two channelers. This is a battle of Saidin, they should be ready he thought. He managed to calm their floor down to a mere rolling, like a ship on a calm sea.

Having spotted more than a comfortable amoung of Power-abused blades, Negrath hoped nothing would befall his...at least not until their survival was ensured.
Jumping across a rift in the floor, he dove for cover, scanning the room for possible hideouts for their assailants.
As it were, they did not seem all that interested in proper cover. Why should they? He'd have no real chance to get at them, and even if he did, he'd be largely helpless. Why he remained standing at all, was a mystery to him.
Not one to look a gifthorse in the mouth, though, he hightailed it back to their prisoner, thinking himself best used in ensuring that he stayed put. Trying to help the others, he'd likely just stumble in the way. Here, he could move more freely, giving full use of his training as he dodged pieces of floor and wall, smacking the unnatural projectiles in the direction of the balconies with his blade when he found the chance...

Firredal rolled sideways as the floor began to shake. It was purely reflex; he was not consciously aware that someone was attacking them with the One Power until several seconds later.

He had not had time to retrieve his own armor, and so the only protection he had was a chainmail shirt he had taken from one of the armories. It was barely enough; the shattered sword blades threw pieces against his back, and he felt something split his left ear as it passed. He came to his feet, then rolled again, fetching up against a wall. With luck, he was out of sight of their attackers. But then, with my luck I'm in full view of them. Automatically, he looked to Durent. We'll need the channelers to survive this.

He was on his feet in an instant, leap-frogging across the shattered and shaking stone of the chamber. Time to defend my co-husband. Wish I'd brought a shield... His blades were still in their sheaths, but now he drew the longer one, sheath and all. Their opponents were channeling, which meant that they had to able to see the group - but Firredal could see no sign of them. Twisting, he blocked a flying chunk of rock with with the wooden sheath of his sword.

The area around Durent was relatively still, and Firredal settled himself in a low stance beside the Sitter. His job would be to block debris and anything else that he could see. Durent and the Dedicated would have to take care of their enemies.

Durent was about to answer the Gaidin's question when all of the sudden the floor began to shake. Just a moment before he had felt some twinge in him, like his instinct was trying to get his attention. He was not able to act quickly enough and was knocked to the ground. Luckily for him, because at the same time, the blades of the guards exploded, he was lucky that he only received cuts along his chest and arms. It was then he noticed that he could feel the earthquake, and the shattering swords. These were attacks of the Power. Bloody Black Ajah. Durent immediately tied off the bonds that held Dinan, knowing that he couldn't concentrate on holding them. They would hold unless a channeler should try to break them.

The floor underneath him grew slightly calm, the rocking and swaying subsided slightly. He knew that either Jolartin or Tan'qui was attempting to calm the quake. Durent also vaguely noticed Aynaiss fighting with the guard captain, Negrath attending to Dinan. A small rock, a broken piece of the stone floor was flying toward Durent when suddenly it was knocked away by a sword. He looked to see Firredal standing by him. He nodded to the Gaidin in appreciation.

Enjoying the relative protection and calm section of floor, Durent drew deeply on saidin and started weaving many many flows of Air. The group, his and the channeler's were not as a whole taking up all that much room. Using them as a nexus, or eye, for his weaves, he began to weave a circular pattern around them. Strong winds flew around them in a circle, picking up debree. Chunks of rock, and shards of blades were now whipping around in the tornado. Anyone standing outside his 'circle of protection' would either be struck somehow by the debree or would have to focus on countering it.

Tan'qui drew as much Saidin as he could, determined as he was to keep the Asha'man and Dedicated from being distracted by the shaking floor. He noticed Aynaiss was having a though time with the Guard Captain, but she seemed to manage pretty well. Occasionally, he stepped in and blocked a blow from the captain towards her, but he couldn't do much without losing his concentration to his weave.

He noticed Firredal getting up and defending Durent from incoming rocks, and was thankful for it. You read my mind, Gaidin. But then again, you wouldn't have become Gaidin withoout knowing how to help channelers.

Then Durent started to channel, weaves of air formed a giant tornado around their little party. He felt the weaves forming the earthquake weaken, as the channeler responsable for them used some Saidin to defend himself.

In response, he drew back some Saidin as well, since the floor was shaking less, and kept it ready. He was on the edge of forming a very nasty weave out of Water and Earth, called Quagmire. If they show themselves, they'll have another problem up.

Thepon's mind was corrupt; driven by an unseen hand.

His two curved blades wielded to draw blood... to kill... he saw only featureless puppets dancing before him. The dolls dance to their death... Yet he realised that he was dancing the same dance, for the ground did not seem to stay in one place. One black-clad puppet danced away from his attacks. That annoyed him, for he had to move over the unstable floor to reach it again. Another then came his way. It bore the resemblance of a woman... he judged... by the frame and bearing of it. The woman swung a candelabra at him, and he grinned when he saw that this world he had been thrown into... with neither past nor future... provided him with a challenge. One thought repeated itself inside his skull, and it burned to be carried out in his limbs; Kill them all!

There was nothing else. Forcing one end of the puppet's strange weapon into the ground, his other sword came horizontally for the head, and then swept back in a reverse cut.

He felt the other, the enemy, change his weave. And this time Tan'qui didn't recognize it, so he prepared for the worst. But what happened was beyond his imagination. Suddenly, he started to go down, and as he looked to his feet, he saw that the floor he stood on was turned to sand. He tried to get a hold for himself, but he was too late. With a angry and scared scream, he fell down. But again, his luck saved him. As he fell down he wove Air almost unknowingly, and made a platform a few feet above the floor. It was all he could do with Air, but it was the only thing he could think of. And it saved him, though only barely. He landed on his feet and rolled backwards to break his fall, but the force of his fall needed a longer roll than possible on the platform, and he fell again. He landed on his left shoulder, and a burst of pain trailed through it, almost hitting him unconscious.

He took a few moments to grasp his breath, and to get his eyes back into focus. As soon as he no longer saw a double picture of the room he was in, he slowly got up. Only sitting straight gave him a jolt of pain trailing from his shoulder to his head, and he looked at it. His shoulder seemed hurt pretty bad, maybe even broken, but he didn't saw any bones coming out of it, so he would leave it this way. He eventually managed to get up on his feet, and he managed to stay that way. Fighting the waves of pain still emaniting from his shoulder, he slowly accuired the Void. This brought a relief, for in the Void, his pain was of another man, and though he was unable to use his shoulder, at least he could think clearly again. There was no way for him to go back up there and help his comrades, he simply wasn't strong enough in the One Power. What shall I do? Where shall I go now? I want to do something, but how? And where? Wait! That's it! Drelle! She's up for some pain! A freaking darkfriend she is!

Rembering she once told him her rooms were in the Indigo Ajah halls, he looked around for a weapon. Unfortunately, he saw none, so he kept Saidin close, and walked into a hallway which should lead him, to the Indigo Halls, if his guessing was correct.
Along the way, he thanked the Green Ajah for being the battle Ajah, for he found a small closet which, after he forced the door open with Saidin, contained numerous weapons. He took a nice looking Katana, and holding that in his right hand, he walked on, suddenly feeling strangely reassured by the weapon...

Firredal waited, though he could see the holes in the floor opening. I need a target. Until I have one, all I can do is defend. Turning, he intercepted half-broken chair with a wide block. Chunks of wood stung his fingers, but they were only bruises - not worth worrying about at this point. "We should pull back!" he shouted, but with the winds and the crumbling floor his words were swept away.

Negrath had been on the lookout for those responsible when he heard the captive shout his offer of help. He was about to prod the man to silence when the kick came.
Spinning out of the way, he directed himself forward, striking with his blade. He felt a momentary resistance, but when he could focus on the asassin, he was already airborne, heading for the wall of winds.

Utterly stunned, he took a moment to gather his wits, but then started looking to the others of his group.Deciding not to bother them with it, he toyed with the idea of following...when the floor turned to mush beneath him. Using what little resistance it had left, he lept clear of the sudden bog, rolling nearly into the wall. Only frantic scrambling helped him stop in time.Lying there, breathing heavily, he looked after the former captive, carefully feeding a rage he knew would help him get through. He could only hope he wouldn't choose to jump just as the collected splinters of the blown swords flew by...the thought made him shiver, and he fled into the Void. Getting up, he looked about at the wall, trying to figure out which portion were the least damaging...he wouldn't be up to much chasing if he got all his bones broken...

OOC: Destiny compells you to take that jump, now!

Follow Negrath's story here, in the next Ripple.

It was complete and utter chaos; wind and earth breaking free and crashing into the walls and people alike. Her companions were spread out around the floor, some lying on the floor, unmoving, and the others doing their best to shield and defend against the Power.

Candelabra clutched into her hands, she circled by Thepon, his face twisted in with feral rage, rabid. Aynaiss tightened her grip on the wrought metal, and carefully used the necessary footwork for advantage. Doing the best to ignore the bruahaha around her, she prepared herself when Thepon struck.

He used his curved blades, wicked and intent with synthetic malice, to strike first. Blocking with a ring of grinding and grating against metal, the heavier part of her weapon was forced down to the ground. Bloody hell...two swords...! Unbalanced by her weapon, Aynaiss ducked at the slash and paired return to her head, and used the staff to stop his second sword. The pure strength in the crazed Captain's arm shook her own limbs with a violent shake. That man's an ox! And as crazed as a habitual drinker with ale withdrawl! Quickly, she brought one hand over another to circle her staff like a maple seed to dislodge both swords and put distance between her and the Captain.

She bit her lip and instantly decided she had to attack, to put the man down before he injured anyone. Alright...will it work?... Cautious about the amount of sharp bare steel in the Captain's hands, she darted forward and stepped to his left at the last moment. Aynaiss jabbed her heavy end of the candelabra to his chest in a feint, withdrew her weapon as if a snake gauging its neck strike and flipped her staff to the other side with a quartergrip. Although the lighter side of her staff was coming down on his left shoulder, there was plenty of momentum behind her move.

Kill them all. Kill them all. Kill them all. Kill them all, the words came with the quick beating of his heart.

The puppet he fought had the insolence to dance away from Thepon, hence he wetted his lips and came after it. However there was no need, for the female doll came back with her make-shift weapon and thrust it towards his chest. Bad choice, he thought, as he grinned widely and shoved his left sword forward to slam the candelabra away. His right sword rose to deal the finishing blow?.

However, his sword hit nothing.

And before he could reclaim his guard his left shoulder was jarred by a hard impact... steel ringing against steel. He was sent to his knees and he groaned. His whole arm was completely numb and the pain throbbed in his shoulder and up his neck. His fingers could not grasp the hilt of his left balde, hence it clattered against the white and black mosaic.

Curse you puppet! He brandished his right sword widely to regain his footing, hearing someone coming up from behind. "Captain Thepon, what are you doing?!" shouted a male puppet, wearing the same kind of plate armour that he wore himself. It seemed to have lost its helmet. Kill them all. "Have you gone insane?! She is no foe!"

He was the last of the steel-clad puppets on the erupted floor. Kill them all. He would have to die too. He smiled to the puppet. Feranoa, he recalled it to be named. Roaring, he swept around and cut from hip to opposite shoulder with his right sword. The plate armour saved the puppet, but it lost its balance and landed upon its back. Thepon spit on the floor and went after him, lifting his right sword to cut off the unprotected head. However, he knew the female puppet would come so he rounded on her with the sword first when he saw her come with his periphery vision. The blow came in a rising arc from his right side.

Aynaiss smiled grimly when her stave hit hard, disarming the Captain with her blow. She did not pause to savor her small victory, but stopped dead when the last guard came behind Thepon. Her eyes widened as she saw the malicious look on the face of the enraged man on his knees before her. Still, his right blade was useful...

"Wai--" was all she could make out before Thepon struck, slashing diagonally across the man's chest. Shocked by the stroke of his superior, the man was sent to the floor. Thepon made a made to finish the man, who unfortunately had lost his helm or faceguard in the chaos, but Aynaiss made a few steps forward. She couldn't allow an innocent to die while she stood their.

Sliding her candelabra into the usual middle guard used by the common person, Aynaiss advanaced, slowly but with a purpose. Expecting a strike, she stepped---and was almost surprised when he did strike, much sooner tha she had anticipated in a flashing arc. Raising her staff in protection, Thepon's sword glanced off her candelabra with a loud ring. Following her block, she side kicked at the Captain's side, hoping to hit his lower right hip. To cover her open right leg, she matched it with a jab of her butt of her candelabra.

Thepon's sword was glanced of to the side, and the next thing he felt was a hard impact in his side. The kick must had been meant for his hip, but the savage block and the fact that his sword had been momentarily caught in the head of the candelabra had made him loose his footing somewhat. Burn you, she-doll!

He fell to his left knee and tried to bring his sword back to cut out the puppets leg underneath her. However, he had only managed to shift his grip before the foot of the puppet's weapon clouded his vision. Blind and utterly stunned by the impact upon his frontal bone, he rolled backwards as best as he could without sense of balance and despite the heavy armour he wore. He almost regained his feet when he came up again, but he stumbled slightly while he tried to orientate himself. His face was a twisted mask of forced purpose and hate... with blood streaming down his features from a deep cut on his forehead. "Where are you, my little puppet? Come here!" he growled and wiped his eyes clear with his left hand. "I said come here!"

As he had assumed Lion on the Hill, the floor then gave away underneath him. A large portion of the mosaic tiles shifted sideways under his weight, and only by crouching down could he keep his composure. The rents in the floor had spread around him and the floor? eroded under his feet. No! I have to kill them all. Kill them all!

Thus, when he knew his doom was at hand, the hand around his mind lifted... and he saw the world for what it was. His eyes sought the woman he had fought. No mind-less doll, he observed, a woman. I know her? His brows knotted in bewilderment. "Aynaiss? Gaidar?" The floor shifting once again under his weight, he found his feet and calves buried in the black and white sand. "No? Forgive me," he said and looked up, his stark face creased in controlled fear. "Help me, Gaidar."

Durent barely had time to react when the floor itself seemed to be melting away. And saw the young Soldier slip through. Aynaiss seemed to be handling the Captain just fine, but Dinan had escaped with Negrath chasing after him. Durent turned to Jolartin. He knew that he would be able to sense any darkfriend, and sure enough, he seemed to be staring intently in a specific spot on the walkway above. Durent was about to weave an attack at that spot, when he sensed the storm being manipulated. They are playing to my strengths instead of my weaknesses, that's how I'll take them. Thanks to his Talents, Durent could sense the bolts before they were even formed. He focused as much saidin as he could and used it to redirect the path of those bolts straight to the place Jolartin was staring.

The result was gratifying, all three bolts went within feet of where he wanted them to, and Durent quickly wove a shield of Air to protect the group against any more falling debris. He collapsed to his knees, but he knew it would soon be over, one way or another.

It did not go as planned.

No! Trean bit off a scream as the lightning bended and struck at the walkway where he and Castar were standing. The three bolts hit somewhere between them and with deafening crashes and a low rumble... the walkway shattered. Had they not distanced themselves from each other, they both had died instantly. However, Trean lost the hold of his weaves that made them invisible... the Mirrors of Mist. His black uniform materialised out of thin air beneath him and his hands gripped at what they could. As he scrambled to get away, Castar screamed over the chaos behind.

For a couple of moments the White Ajah Asha'man did not know if he lived or not.

But soon order restored his mind, and he found himself lying just by the edge of where the walkway had shattered and fallen. He was covered in dust, grit and gravel and pain seared in his limbs and torso... as if he had been stoned by a ferocious mob. Glancing over his shaking shoulder, he could not see Castar on the other side of the gap. He is lost, he told himself, Now run! Get away. Scrambling to his knees found himself running while ducking under the railing, hidden from the eyes below. His boot steps must surely have been heard, but it mattered little since he darted into the next corridor... which he reached in a few moments.

Safe from view, he ran upright and used small weaves of air to blow the residues of the lighting's impact from his uniform and face. Just then, channelers and servants alike came running to see what had caused the sound of inferno inside their halls. Fear clawing at his heart for the punishment he would receive form Eya Sedai or the Dawn of Blood, he disappeared into the masses.

Apprehensive with the old face of the Captain, Aynaiss lowered her guard slightly at the cry of the man. He was caught in one of the traps in the floor, and if not helped, he would most certainly and assuredly, fall to his death. Her thoughts rushed for a moment, thinking that this might possibly be a diversion, or trap...but then again, his cry had seemed very genuine.

Aynaiss set her candelabra down with a clatter of metal (she had set it upside down upon the ground), and went to the aid of Thepon. Her green eyes watched the ground carefully as she placed her feet, and she stretched her arm out to clasp the Captain's. When their callused hands met, Aynaiss pulled back with her lean muscle and grabbed ahold of an opening in his armor for better purchase. She heaved back and stopped only once Thepon was a good pace beyond the sinking floor. A breath of relief escaped her lips as she kneeled down to check on him, to make sure if the man was alright before letting her complete guard down on him.

"Captain, are you al--" was all she could make out before an almost gutteral rumble followed the flash of lightning made from the Power. Where the two channelers of the Shadow had been working their craft, crumbled and fell to below. A cloud of dust spread in pillars after all was quiet. Aynaiss blinked when she thought she saw a body, but thought better of it when she remembered the echoing screams of the men as they fell.

His breathing shallow, Castar knew he was dead... his body had just not come to terms with the obvious fact.

He lifted his head and glanced out through the hall... the destruction blurry and colourless to his wet eyes. Hawking sharply and spitting upon the ruined white and black mosaic, he began to see silouettes of shadow stride towards him. The White Ajah Asha'man was not unfamiliar with shadows; he had lived in the dark for half his life. To what end? he asked himself now, when his life's blood was leaking out upon the rocks underneath him. Fools rush in where fools have been before. I should have known better than to give away my soul.

The shadows stood by him now, and he could discern their faces. Five they were, varying in rank from a captain of the Tower Guard to a Sitter of the Green Ajah... people he had fought to slay. He blinked away blood from his eyes and gave them a faint smile. "As you look upon me," he wheezed, "you are thinking ?How... could this happen? How can the Shadow be among us?'" He turned his eyes away from their faces, looking into the ornate ceiling... upon the paintings of yore glory and approaching prophesy.

"I have an... answer for you," said the Asha'man after a moment, "though I could not discuss my reasoning with my fellow Ajah members, I have reached the conclusion... that the Creator underestimated his ability... when he created man. Strange as it seems, no amount of learning can cure stupidity, egoism or need for power. Trust me... nothing in all the world is more dangerous than sincere ignorance and... conscientious stupidity. The Great Lord of the Dark is just a manifestation to which the craven and hungry turn, seeking... to live out the darkness... and the simplistic needs of their souls. I have known this for a few years, but it is not until now... that I can accept the truth of it. And now... is too late."

A raking cough shook him, and he swallowed the blood in his mouth. "I feel that..." he began, turning his face over to the side to look upon them again. "...I need to apologise. But no apology of mine... would ever reach your ears, much less your hearts. So instead, I will help you... That way, maybe the Creator... incompetent as he is... might just save me... from the Lord of the Grave."

Castar's slack face betrayed the intent look in his eyes as he tried to focus. "The Blood of Dawn has come to the Tower. It is he... who commanded all the actions that were taken. His disciple is... Eya... Grenwyne Sedai," his eyes went to Durent Asha'man, "you know of her. She is in... your Ajah. When I came here, it was she who had given me... the orders to kill every Sitter or Ajah Head I... could before leaving the Tower for the Claw Stone. The plan was that Aes Sedai and Asha'man of the Black Ajah would take their places. I will not... tell you the name of my companion in this endeavour... for he has been a close confederate for too many years. Professional... courtesy, you understand. However... I doubt him and I were the only cards... in the Great Lord's hand to be played in order to reach this aim. Most likely, Eya Sedai... have made sure to eliminate the ones... we wouldn't reach. And there is only one place where... the Sitters and Ajah Heads of the whole Grey Tower is gathered. My... suggestion, is that you all stop her before she... is finished with... the Ward that will... make it all true."

His mind foggy by all the pain and the blood-loss, Castar gestured awkwardly towards the gathered shadows. His hand remained outstretched towards them, resting upon a boulder, while he leaned his head. "Now... It would please? my tainted soul... if you could give me a fast... and clean death. The pain... is not of this world... I wish you... The best of luck... for I love this... second home of mine..."

He was ready, to cross the final threshold. He could not see the ceiling anymore, but his chest convulsed in a retching movement with each wave of bane that swept over him. "Please..." he whispered. "Please..."

Firredal glanced at Durent, then drew his blade. Its wooden sheath was battered, as were his arms and fingers; the chainmail shirt had kept him alive, but even within the Void he could feel his injuries. Before he could think about it - before he could hesitate, or begin to wonder if he was even capable of this - he brought the blade down.

Castar's body twitched as the point found his heart; then his eyes clouded, and the last of his breath left his lungs. Looking down at him, Firredal wondered if he should say something... but he could think of neither curse nor benediction that seemed to fit. Wrenching his sword loose, he shook the blood from it and put it away with an absent gesture.

Durent panted with breath as exhaustion grappled him when he released the Source. It was not every day that he channeled so much of saidin in such a small window of time. He managed to catch all of the Black's speech, however. When he finally got his breathing back to normal, he stood up in time to see Firredal put the man out of his misery. However when Durent regarded the man's dead body he had to fight back the urge to spit on it, and the look of revulsion was obvious on his face. Finally he turned away from the body and regarded everyone that was still there. Firredal, Aynaiss, Jolartin and the Guard Captain. "The place that he mentioned is the Hall. We must go there immediately and stop this Eya from doing whatever it is she plans to do."

Firredal nodded. "You lead, and I'll follow." He drew a ragged breath. "It's times like this I wish I was bonded, though."

Chapter Four: The Shadow Unleashed
~Ripple One: To the Claw Stone
~Ripple Two: Chance
~Ripple Three: Continued Hearing
~Ripple Four: Fate
~Ripple Five: Death in my Wake
~Ripple Six: True Purposes
~Ripple Seven: The Wait and the Pain
~Ripple Eight: Darkness
~The Final Ripple

Return to the Ripples Intro