Ripple Five: Shadow
written by Clavil Fon'har (NPC), Kile Durann, Bassal Toram, Caden Ives, Janis Tearsin, Beatrise (NPC), Leanna Lisette Damodred, Neilan Davram and Negrath (NPC)

Standing before the oval opening deep down in the corridors of the Old Tower, Clavil looked upon the entrance to the tunnel which would lead him to safety.

Yet how could I escape now when the bloody Gaidin Captain and his trainees could still live? momentarily, his cold heart felt fear. The Dawn of Blood will not be forgiving when he learns that the Tower is forewarned of the attack. I need to have done what I can so that I will get away with my head still attached to my neck. So he turned in the direction he was facing, lighting the sloping corridor wrom whence he had come with his newly made torch. His shortly cropped beard twisted in a grimace of hatred. They are too many to be handled all at once. I need an advantage.

His gaze lifted to the high ceiling of the narrow hall, and he saw a poorly made terrace above the opening which lead to the corridor. That will do.

"Why do you linger?" hissed a voice behind him, and when he whirled around, he met the eyeless glare of a fade. The creature just stepped out from from the edge of a shadow, its black cloak handing slack as he stepped forward. "The Dawn wants you to return to the Claw Stone."

Fear in it's truest form. Fighting off the irritating sensation which the Myrdraal made him feel, Clavil smiled. Fortune smiles upon me this day, it seems.

Kile nodded accepting the command of the small group once more. He realized now how important this task was. He was responsible for making sure that the Tower was sealed off so that a tide of Shadowspawn could not enter and wash this Grey Tower in blood. As Caden turned and walked away into the darkness, Kile turned to face his group of fighters. "Well, lets get to it fellas." He said and turned again to follow the trail of boot marks engraved into the dusty floor. The dark corridor was nearly pitch black, but at least it was dry so Kile could keep his mind off of his heavy water laden boots and on the trail. Not long after they were in the dark his eyes adjusted and he resumed following the trail left by the shadowsworn ahead of them. After they had walked about a half mile there were a few torches on the wall here and there, and then it opened into a large anteroom and on the other side was the tunnel that they were to destroy. Kile led the small entourage into the room with his hand ready to draw the blade at his hip.

With confident strides, Sa'ji'alantin Clavil Fon'har stepped out of the tunnel and looked upon the five who emerged from the corridor.

While he positioned himself opposite them, he threw back his black cloak from his shoulder and drew his falchion gradually from its sheath. The smile he gave them was filled with cold contempt. "Welcome to my chamber, Light-blinded fools. This is my territory, and you invade where you don't belong. I'm impressed how you gotten this far, because that was not how we had planned it," he said to them in his Domani accent. He pointed his heavy blade towards them. "Nevertheless, this is the end of the line, and I will not let you to pass." His dark eyes passed over their faces, weighing them individually.

"Tell me, where has Caden gone? I would have loved to kill him as well."

In truth, he was glad that his old trainer was not present, for the odds were just fine as they were. This way, the process would be shorter, and he would much sooner be on his way to the Claw Stone. They are injured, exhausted and without their leader. Things could not turn out much easier now...

Stepping into the large chamber right behind Kile his Katana held tightly in both hands after lossing the torch in the last fight he looked up ahead of him and saw Fon'har stepping out of the tunnel they had to destroy. There he is, the man who has already tried to kill me four times this day. I think it's about time I returned the favour.

His hands tightened around the hilt when Fon'har spoke he held back a growl that was rising in his throat. He grunted when Fon'har finsihed speaking and took a breath Light your about to do something insanley stupid the thought flowed over his focus but he dismissed it. If he survived he would probabley be repreminded highly for what he was about to say but Fon'har's grin and tone annoyed him so he spoke coldly "Captain Ives decided that he wouldn't be needed to deal with you Fon'har, so he left us to clear up the loose ends!" He cursed himself again once the words were out of his mouth Light, I hope the worst it does is attract his attention to me so the others can deal with him and only I have to fall he knew the thought was morbid but better his life than those of his companions.

Kile sneered as the larger man spewed filth from his bearded lips. When Bassal Toram spoke up behind him Kile only nodded and resheathed himself in the Void. A mettalic ring eched through the chamber when he drew his sword in a quick practiced motion. I only wish I had a heavier longsword against that falchion he thought, but then it was washed away as he strode forward confidently, his eyes never leaving Clavil's. Again in his life is was kill or be killed, when would the killing stop? When he reached the Sa'ji'alantin that had betrayed the Grey Tower he circled him hoping that perhaps Clavil would keep his attention on him and one of his companions could bring him down. He flicked his blade up and down constantly offering new angles and different threats while stepping lightly and waiting for someone to make the first move.

Jan's smile was not friendly as he set the bags of explosive powder down on the ground and slowly drew Skyfire from it's sheath. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other trainees draw their weapons, but no one except Kile made a move towards the enemy. And Kile didn't seem to want to make the first move as he veered off to the side, trying to keep the traitor's attention. So it looked like it was up to Jan to make the first move, and it wasn't a bad idea, either. He had the heaviest sword, the longest reach, the most battle experience (with the exception of kile) and was probably the closest in size to the other man as well.

"Clavil, turn and face me, traitor!" Jan's voice rang out like a trumpet peal. "I am Janis Tearsin, Drin'Far'Ji of the Tower, and your worst nightmare!" The Aielman moved confidently forward, holding his blade in his left hand and keeping his right hand slightly behind him. "You have brought evil into my home, and suffering to my family." As Jan spoke, and with all of Clavil's attention hopefully focused on his face and sword, he stealthily slid his little knife out of it's forearm holster and hid it behind his forearm.

"You are scum, Clavil," Jan spat at the other man's feet. "Not worthy of wearing that uniform, not worthy of mucking out the stables of my horse. You have betrayed your comrades, your brothers, and your superiors. If I knew nothign else about you, that would be enough to warrant your death. But you have also brought suffering to countless innocents, and for that, I shall tear the flesh from your dead carcass and give it to the wild dogs to eat."

Jan stopped four yards away from the other man and stood there, eyes radiating hatred and mouth curled up in a snarl of rage. "Defend yourself, honorless one, and pray to whatever dark God you hold dear that your end will be swift and merciful."

With the last word, jan whipped his arm up and launched the little dagger at the traitor's face, then gave a yell and charged in right behind it, swinging his sword in both hands and aiming for the man's right shoulder.

Bassal watched as Kile first moved towards the traitor and began circling him. He was readying himself to move next when Jan's voice cut through the silence like a knife. Wait for the right moment now then... he thought as he tensed himself making himself ready to make his attack. He listened as Jan berated and goaded the man and held back a grimace at what Jan threatenedtoday Light this traitor deserves worse than that he thought grimly to himself.

Jan's attack came so suddenley it took Bassal a moment to realise what happened the knife flew towards Fon'har followed by the huge Aiel man and his heavy blade. This would be that moment I was waiting for then before the thought had even finished forming he was chargng forward towards Fon'har his teeth bared and a wordless scream coming form his lips, his muscles ached but he still charged on, it was kill or be killed. When he was within striking distance he performed Moon Rises Over Water, his slash going in towards Fon'Har's waist hoping to arc it round to cut in at his bicep.

His confident smile not faltering a hair, Clavil raised his cheek towards Drin'far'ji Bassal. "Is that quite right? Could it not be so that he needed to return to his little wench upstairs, and left you to die?"

However, his reply remained unheard as Kile and Janis began to approach him, the latter berating him with all forms of vulgarities every step on the way. Wrapping his mind in the void and the flame, like Caden Ives had taught him long ago, the words washed off his mental armour. Instead, he entered Lion on the Hill. The huge Domani became one with the five trainees, one with the dusty and cold air of the Old Tower Ruins, one with the unyielding stone underneath their feet...

And one with the Myrdraal... perched upon the terrace above the opening where the five had emerged from.

Having seen Janis fight in Late Pariah's Hall, Clavil thought there was something strange with his approach. Was he really lefthanded? Registering the fact of the hidden right hand a moment before it extended, Clavil could do nothing but to duck and lean down to his right. The dagger crossed the space where hsi head had been a moment too late. Distracted, but not completely without a grip of the situation, he saw the sword come into motion. While he straightened, he brought his heavy Falchion up in Tower of morning to make the Aielman's blade go skyward... passing harmlessly over his head and past him. Using his momentum he hurled a savage side-kick into the man's exposed left side.

By now, The Myrdraal had leapt through the air, stooping against the approaching Bassal Toram like an eagle of death.

Turning with the kick, Clavil then directed the first quick thrust of Lizard in the Thornbush against Kile's chest... the one who had circled around on his left side earlier. He did not really aim to kill, since his weapon was of little use when stabbing, but it woudl keep the man at distance. The second slash, delivered by pivoting and kneeling, came back low towards Janis Tearsin. When coming to his feet, he would circle around Janis to the right... His intention was to make one of them get in the way for the other, dealing with them one at the time.

Then, the Myrdraal landed with a heavy thud and rolled forward. As it came to its feet it fluently hammered the butt of his sword hilt between the shouderblades of Bassal Toram before he reached Clavil. It would then likely stake the Light-blinded fool to the ground before turning back on Nykolai and Dax... still behind it by the opening.

Instinctivly Kile turned aside the shorter blade that was thrusted toward his chest by the huge domani. Stepping in, he used Parting the Silk as Clavil turned and kneeled to slash at Janis. The damage wouldn't be fatal, but it might help down the road. When he saw the Myrdraal come down a groan escaped from his lips unbidden. They would have to deal with it though he thought as he attention turned back to Clavil who was Kicking at Janis. Kile glided forward in Tower of Moning and Boar Rushes Down the Mountain. Aiming to take Clavil Down.

He charged onewards towards Fon'har his attention focused totally on him ready to make his strikes and help his comrades, that is until moments into his charge towards his enemy.

The Myrdraal landed behind him the noise slowing his charge but his focus shattered around him along with all sense of balance when a sharp pain shot through his shoulders and down his spine. His heart was thumping as he feel, each beat sounding like a drum right by his ear as it struck. He saw the ground swell beneath him and he just managed to turn taking the impact on his left shoulder with a grunt not even able to find the breath for a scream he tuned to his back and was about to get up when the Myrdraal came int his view its eyeless gaze falling upon him. The look of the eyeless is fear! how many times had he heard it said and now he knew only to well the fear as it enveloped him its icy fingers closing around his muscles and heart, it took al his strength not to coewer into a ball and to at least make a vain attempt with his hands to grope for his sword wherever it lay now, his heart beating faster and louder than before as it prepared to strike him with its unclean blade Blood and ashes, blood and bloody ashes I am going to die the thought coursed through his brain the fear sharp and cold without his Focus surronding him, he couldn't find his sword and he doubted that if he did he could bring himself to meet the Myrdraal's blade if he managed to find it.

Jan angled his sword down blocked Clavil's strike, then started to counter when he heard something behind him. And then, abruptly, the room got cold. He heard Bassal yelp and go down, right after he heard the sharp rap of something hitting bone. He half-turned to see what newcomer had joined the battle, then he caught sight of the Myrdraal. Jan's eyes went wide, and he nearly dropped his blade. With an effort, he forced his eyes from the creature and back to Clavil, but the damage had been done. As Jan had explained to Caden, he was deathly afraid of Myrdraal. Even the slightest glimpse of one was enough to turn him into a gibbering idiot. Right now, the only reason he was on his feet was because the andrenaline of the fight was fighting against the all-encompassing fear.

Cold sweat broke out on Jan's forehead, and he felt his vision blur as the realization of a fade in the room started to overcome his battle-high. He knew he would be in no position to fight a half-dead Draghkar in the space of a few minutes, let alone a skilled warrior like Clavil. But the fate of the Tower depended on them accomplishing their task now, and Jan knew that if he fell, that was one less warrior between the Tower and certain death. He had to do something...

Come on, Jan! Fight, burn you, FIGHT! his mind screamed every curse it could come up with, but his body was unwilling and unable to react. There was a Myrdraal just a few feet from him, just a few feet between himself and death personified...

The void... Jan knew that in taht emotionless state, he could shake off the effects of the Myrdraal. But, the void was the Walkers territory. If Jan went in, he would become...

Burn it, Jan, there's no time! You're all going to die if you don't do SOMETHING!

Jan flinched, but knew that the voice in his head was right. With a quick, deep breath, he pictured the flame, he assumed the void. he closed his eyes for a split second...

And when they opened, Janis Tearsin was gone. In his place stood a warrior without passion, without emotion, with nothing but the knowledge of how to kill, quickly and efficiently. Janis Tearsin ceased to be human, and became the Black Walker. His eyes were cold, and his face was blank as a stone, showing nothing, not even rage.

The walker whirled and charged the Myrdraal, who was standing over the fallen Drin's body, about to strike with it's tainted blade. The Walker got there first, his blade slamming into the Myrdraal's tainted sword snd driving both the blade and the Myrdraal away from the fallen Drin. The walker faced off with the Shadowspawn, his blade weaving back and forth and presenting the thing with an impenetrable defense. "Come my little friend," the walker taunted, "my blade thirsts for blood. Come and give me a drink, my little friend. To those listening, the Walker's voice was terrifying. It was low and quiet, but there was no mistaking the sound of madness in it. And more frightening still, the Walker showed no emotion as he taunted. His face was a solid wall of rock, and his cold eyes were locked on the Myrdraal's own eyeless gaze.

The walker was a thing to be feared, both by his enemies, and his friends.

Blocking with chopping motions... his Falchion used as an extension of his brawny arm... Clavil Fon'har ill-favored the Ji'alantin's longer range as he was driven backwards. Janis Tearsin had turned towards the Fade, and seemed lost to the eye-less stare, so the Shadowsworn concentrated on bringing his blade across to deflect the Boar Rushes Down the Mountain... and then send the return swing across Kile's abdomen. Stepping forward with his left side after the slash, the huge Domani used the range of his arm to send his iron first towards the man's face. If we was able, he would then grab Ji'alantin Durann around the back of his neck and drive the Falchion straight through the chest.

"Come my little friend," came a low and mordant voice, and out the corner of his eye, Clavil saw the Aielman engage the Myrdraal, "my blade thirsts for blood. Come and give me a drink, my little friend."

"Insolent fool of a human," came the slithering reply of crumbling leather, appearing to ignore the fact that it had people behind and the sudden and inhuman quality which had seeped into Tearsin's mind I completely, "If the tunnel cannot remain open by secrecy, by the Great Lord it will remain so by blood." And with that, the Shadowspawn stepped around Bassal Toram andCut in Moon Rises over the Water... a vertical slash followed by a falling blow o the head. Though Janis might have been prepared, nothing could tell the Fade had moved before the blade was falling.

The Walker did not smile, but he did laugh at the Myrdraals statement. "It is you who are the fool, halfman, for you truly do not realize what you face." The Walker's icy gaze never left the Myrdraal's blank stare. "You are but a servant of death, halfman. But I, I am death made man! I have slaughtered dozens of your kind on the end of my blade. I have fought in countless battles, I have been forged as steel through fires hotter than your master could ever imagine. Tremble in fear, Shadowspawn, for your death stands before you!"

Another warrior might have been surprised by the Myrdraal's swiftness. Another warrior might have been dead before he even realized the shadowspawn had moved. But the Walker was too good for that, the Walker fought by instinct and feeling, along with all his other senses. So where other men might have fallen to the Halfman's tainted blade, the Walker met the attack head on. He sucked in his gut and danced back, avoiding the Myrdraal's first strike, then swiped his blade in a tight overhead arc to block the fiend's finishing blow.

Then he moved to retaliate. His blade came down to his waist and he went into Low wind rising, looped his blade around into River Undercuts the Bank (aimed at the Myrdraal's head) and finished the combination with Courier Taps His Fan.

It should have been over. Every other time he had faced off with a Myrdraal, the Walker's speed and skill had allowed him to win the exchange in the first series of blows. But now, compared to then, his movements felt leaden and his skills seemed atrophied. What in...

"Tearsin," the Walker hissed the name through it's teeth like the most vile of curses. Of course, it HAD to be Tearsin. That bloody fool was fighting against him, keeping him from attaining full control of his mind. That meant that the Walker was not yet fully free, that Tearsin, that simpering weakling, would still be able to wrest control from himm once this fight was over.

Burn you, Tearsin! the Walker's insane mind screamed at that little corner of his psyche that held firm against it's invasion. I must have full control! I cannot win unless I have full control! And I will die at the hands of this.. This.. Neverborn! Don't you understand, burn you! We will die!

The Walker's scream was met by blinding determination. Janis would not yield entirely to his darker side, not even if it meant his death. The Walker cursed him once more, then turned it's attention back to the Myrdraal. the whole exchange hadn't taken more than a split-second, and the Courier Taps His Fan blow was just beginning to fall.

The Myrdraal craved blood more than to deal with the humans quickly, and the strange... maddened... sample it fought had wetted its appetite.

Sweeping down its dark blade after it had been blocked, he moved in opposition to his weapon. While its sword struck the rising blow aside to the left, it slithered to the right. The human's blade came back towards its head, so it was his turn to strike upwards. After the Myrdraal deflected the blow, the human struck his final blow... a falling strike towards its eyeless head. However, since its blade was already raised... the shadowspawn absorbed the strike horizontally upon the shadow-wrought blade with its shoulders and arms.

Blades high, the Fade retaliated as soon as they had made contact.

Sweeping their weapons aside to its right, it drove its shoulder into the chest of the human... spring forward with its legs. Then, with the distance gained again, it struck like the coiled viper that it truly was. It stabbed towards the face or throat with what the humans tended to call "Hummingbird Kisses the Honeyrose". The quick thrust was meant to draw blood and disorientate the prey further. When it withdrew the thrust, it came around in a tight arc above its head and came down diagonally to cleave the torso from shoulder to hip.

The sheer savagery of the Myrdraal's attack set the Walker back on it's heels, but it recovered it's balance easily enough. With a grace that almost - almost - equalled that of the Myrdraal, the big Aielman sidestepped the thrust to the face and brought his blade up into High guard. The Myrdraal's next blow came with a speed that almost caused the Walker it's life. The Walker barely got his blade up top interecept the falling blow, but when it did, it stepped forward to get better leverage and pushed. Blood surged through the big man's arms, and his muscles bulged as he forced the Myrdraal to a stop. Then, with another powerful surge, he shoved forward and hurled his smaller opponent back.

Jan stepped back and made sure the Myrdraal's attention was still focused on him. He had given the two Drin in back of the Myrdraal a perfect opening, now if they wee just smart anough to take it...

He couldn't see or hear who had managed to distract the Myrdraal but they would have his eternal gratitude But now they are the ones fighting the Fade, and they might not surrvive to accept such gratitude he grit his teeth as he lay on the cold ground onc ethat thought enetered his head. He didn't know how long the Fade had held him in its gaze but the memory of that stare, the icy cold fear sucking the life from his was enough to want him to curl into a ball but he fought the urge. Someone had just saved his life, and by the Light he was going to try and return the favour.

He tried in vain to regain his Focus as he moved each muscle throbing in pain but he grunted and fought oneward Good I'm on my knees, now to find my sword and to help who ever his fighting theat Fade behind me. his eyes searched left and right of him for his blade. Finally his eyes restwed upon it, about a foot away to his right with another grunt he pushed himself shakingly to his feet and stumbled towards it Light your in no shape to fight a child never mind a Fade! he shook his head and blanked out the thought had he scopped up his blade and held it as best he could in both hands, his breath haggered and knees shaking he turned just in time to see Janis push the Myrdraal back a bit, he smiled slightly Jan I owe you my life he thoguth was grim as he moved slowly towards the Fade his blade held in the high gaurd preparing to sweep down into the Courtier Taps His Fan once he came within range of the Fade.

Finding its strike stalled high, the Myrdraal was hindered in its pursuit of blood. He was even shoved backwards by the maddened Aielman. Yet with snakelike grace, it never lost composure and rolled backwards and to its feet again. Its Shadow-wrought blade had been held out to the side and never touched the floor, and the Fade raised its guard to engage the doomed human.

Yet when the halfman was to take the first step, there was a slight hum in the air, and it spun.

Since it had been distracted, it had not noticed how the smaller human he had intended to implae had regained his footing. And it was now painfully aware of its mistake as the young man's sword slammed down upon his armoured left shoulder. To add, the sword even found a chink in its scaled armour and gained an inch of flesh in its impact - tearing free again with a metalic sound.

Hissing, the Myrdraal flung out its left arm and clutched the human's outstretched hand - the one that held the sword. Completing its spinning movement by yanking the young man forward and into the ganuntlet-fist that held the dark blade, the shadowspawn hoped the punch would flatten the face entirely.

No time left for finishing the human off, it had to spin around again to the previous opponent. While it did so, it crouched down and performed River Undercuts the Bank, hoping to catch the Aielman by surprise if he had entered the range of its weapon. Not missing a beat either way, it combined the horizontall cut with the diagonal named Low Wind Rising.

The Walker had anticipated the Myrdraal's first strike, and it's feet had already left the floor as the Halfman began it's low blow. While in the air, the Walker swung his blade down in Boar Rushes Down the Mountain to counter the Myrdraal's rising strike. Then, when his boots his the floor, the Walker retaliated with Arc of the moons and into Falcon Stoops.

He smiled a grim smile when he felt his blade hit the flesh of the Fade but his joy was short lived as he felt a hard grip around his right hand and was viciously yanked forward he managed to twist his head so the gauntlet-fist impacted off centre but it was enough to knock him back his left eye half closed his nose snaped to the side his jaw raw and his face covered with blood. He staggered back shaking his head fighting to stay on his feet.

His ears ringing from the blow and the world reeling he grunted and tried to scream "Not until death is my fight over!" but it came out gargalled and in comprehensible as he staggered forward swinging his blade hard in both hands at the fade in a horizontal slash aimed at the creatures neck, or what he thought would be it with his lowered perception.

The Myrdraal surged to his feet with his rising strike, which was blocked by the strange human.

It did not register alarm nor shock when the horizontal counter-strike came in from above its own blade, right after it had been blocked. The Shadowspawn recoiled as quickly as it could, but the attack had been through out in advance, thus the tip of the opponent's blade sent sparks flying as it crossed over the scaled armour which covered its chest. A few black metal shards came loose with the blow and rained over the dusty stone floor. With reptile agility it never lost its balance, yet in order to do so, it had to take a step forward. And when it did, the human had swung around its blade into a thrust.

Well aimed as it was, it carried through the armour and against his movement, scraping with each gained inch.

With an in-human howl, the Halfman clenched its gauntleted free hand around the blade before it was drawn back. It knew not pain the way petty humans did. The blade had embedded itself through the left side of its lower rib-cage, and it gave him the perfect opportunity to kill his opponent in one true strike. And the blow fell from right to left with all its might.

Just as it had fallen, it sensed someone moving up from behind.

And the last thing it saw over its shoulder with its dead eyeless sockets, was a bloodied face and a clean strike towards its neck.

With the Myrdraal dead, another battle began. But this one was within the Walker, a battle of wills as Janis Tearsin exploded out of the sheltered corner of his mind and attempted to tear control of himself back from the Walker. The dark side of Jan's mind was no match for the Aielman's determination, and with a final mental shriek, it was banished back into the recesses of Jan's mind.

The Myrdraal was gone, and so to was the need for the Walker, for the side of Jan that felt no fear from the Halfman's presence or gaze. And Then, in the blink of an eye, Janis Tearsin was back. The Walker's skill was gone, but so too was it's insanity and evil.

The Aielman would have went to Bassal then, seen if the lad was alright and offered what little assistance he could, but there was still a battle going on. Jan's fingers tightened on his blade as he turned to see if Kile needed help with Clavil.

Bassak smiled grimly though it hurt to when he felt resistance on his blade as it struck home and he tared on through the Mydraal's neck with what strength he had left and stood his blade held lossley in one hand as the Shadowspawn feel and writhed upon the floor. His head was on fire along with his muscles the blood on the left side of his face obscuring his preception.

His breath was haggered as he let out a low chuckle, he couldn't see Fon'har, but then he could just about see Janis he was just on the other side of the writhing Fade, but he didn't have the strength left to look. He stood staring blankly at the Fade and his blade dropped from his hands claterring on the ground. He himself slummped hard onto his knees moments after it and sat back ont his legs his head barley held aloft Light, not dead yet...not dead yet....

Kile knew that he had distance to his advantage, the other man's falchion was well shorter than his own, but the heavier blade deflected his stiffly so he decided quickly to try and avoid any direct contact. It would just not do to have his blade break against this most worthy foe. He stepped back away from the slash at his belly and when Clavil reached in to punch him in the face Kile fanned his blade up in front of him so that if the Sa'Ji didn't pull his arm back he would lose the hand at the wrist. Moving on quickly he stepped to the right, reversed his grip and slashed at the mans head as he pivoted further to the right.

As is he had been burned on fire, Clavil snatched his hand back and upwards - out of harms way. Yet he was a bit too late, and the sleeve of his uniform tore by the Ji'alantin's blade. Pain stung him along his forearm and shot up his shoulder, and he knew he had been cut. Only the void deflected the pain before it disabled him any.

Yet with the cut, the Sa'ji'alantin's rage boiled up furiously. The void and the flame was only the thin lid on the pot... He knew himself well enough that he would be blinded with rage if he was wounded again.

Leaping forward, Clavil advanced underneath Kile's slash to his head and swung his Falchion back and across his former comrade-in-arm's knees. Aftr completing the slash, he pressed forward with the first rising slash of the Swallow Takes Flight, followed by the consecutive stab - dealt to impale the heart.

Kile grinned wolfishly as he drew blood from Clavil's arm. It was not a wound that would end the fight, but merely began it. Kile stepped back quickly slash at his knee's, but it was still close enough to open a slice in his uniform. He brought his sword up in a circle to the left to deflect the thrust for his chest and moved into Clavil and past him as he let the tip of the blade dip towards the floor and his bodies momentum made the draw cut at the Sa'Ji'alantin's side. As he looked to see the effect of his attack he saw the Myrdraal and Janis mixing it up. Silently KIle hoped that Janis was good with that blade, he had never seen him use it before, or any other for that matter.

When Kile swept his blade to his right, Clavil antichipated an attack to his left. Thus he managed to spin on the pad of his right foot and kept his facing while his left leg carried him backwards and away from the slicing cut. Meanwhile his Sword came up from its low position and over his shoudler - bearing down heavily across the flat of the Ji'alantin's blade.

If he managed to bend or cleave it, he did not know, for he moved in against the exposed shoulders and back-head with River Undercuts the Bank.

Kile hadn't expected an attack directly on his weapon so when Clavil's heavy bladed falchion crashed down on to the more fragile katana it smashed into several splinters of steel. The tip of the blade now ended about six inched earlier than it had before and the tip was still at an angle, but the opposite way that it was before. When he saw the attack coming at his back he slid his left leg back and ducked as low as he could, as the sword whizzed over him he came up with Low Wind Rising looking to disembowel his hated enemy.

Finding his blade passing over Kile Durann, Clavil Fon'har swung his sword back as quickly as he could to intercept an expected attack.

However, he was a trifle late, and he had to suck in his gut and fall backwards - the void vanishing in the sudden alarm. Pain shot up his spine as the void had left him and he impacted on the floor in a cloud of dust. Ignoring everything else but to escape a finishing blow, he threw his legs up and rolled backwards and regained his footing. Sweeping his sword once in a tentative cross-pattern to keep Kile at a distance, Clavil clutched his abdomen with his free hand. A quick glance told him that there was blood on his hand. The broken sword-tip had torn his charcoal uniform and even nicked a rib. Yet his bowels were safe, only since the sword had been shortened.

And then he had had enough, and fury built like blackness in his eyes. He did not need the void and the flame anymore, something had snapped inside his head and he acted without restraints, exoected caution or boundries.

He charged forward with a great roar and launched his right foot intot he chest of his cursed opponent and then bore down with his blade afterwards in a massive diagonal blow. And he would continue to chop down upon his opponent in Striking the Spark - a form fueled by the stamina of pure hatred.

The resistance of the blade told Kile that he had wounded Clavil deeply, but with his sword ending short it was not enough to end the contest of skill and strength. Kile began to move in to finish him, but the big man was faster than he had expected and he warded Kile off by swinging the heavy blade back and forth. Kile assumed the Middle Guard and when Clavil kicked at him he stepped to the right and chopped down into Clavil's shin, then he immediatly ducked and rolled to the right again to avoid the slash. He came in from Clavil's left and attacked with Kingfisher Takes a Silverback then right into Arc of teh Moon. As an attempt to kill the insane adversary.

The irritating opponent which Clavil strove to kill with every means possible leapt sideways and attacked, yet even if the blade tore his lower leg open and stained the floor red, he did not feel it. The world was a red haze of fury and madness, and the Sa'ji'alantin was the culmination of the storm. Dead was any who stood in his way.

Staggering his frame into balance upon his badly cut leg, he swung to his left and hurled his weapon across and to the left, he deflected the thrust, sending it wide. Unknowingly, he delayed the coming second slash enough to throw a massive hook across Kile Durann's face. He bared his fangs like the giant bear he was as he raised his heavy blade into the air. His free hand changed its route in order to come back in a tight and gargantuan back-hand, not as much to provide distraction as to simply attack in whatever way possible. And then he would cleave the man's head in two........

Yet before his blade fell, Kile Durann's broken sword came in and embedded itself sideways into his rib-cage... tearing through uniform and internal organs alike. He screamed more in frustration that he had not been allowed to let his strike fall than from the pain that also seared his mind. Even though his mind was crystal clear on his aim to kill the Ji'alantin, his body did not want to cooperate anymore. His knees buckled and his injured leg collapsed. Not yet! he thought, his face turning into a twisted mask of maddened purpose and reaching out with his free hand to grasp the grey uniform in a iron grip. He made himself fall forward, upon the opponent. You're mine! Is rabid eyes held Kile's as he folded his arm to drive the edge of his weapon across the throat... either lying down or while he fell. No matter, as long as he saw blood. You are mine!!

Kile ducked under the first punch and he felt the heavier blade delay the return of his attack. He felt the force of the back hand blow to the side of his head, but the pain was far away as his shattered sword ripped into his enemies side tearing through flesh and bone. The man's earth shattering scream of pain was music to Kile's ears and as Clavil Fonhar fell forward he thrusted the crude tip of his katana through the man's belly. As the crashed onto the floor Kile could see his blade on the other side of the man, but still he struck. The fat blade came up towards his throat and with his hands around the hilt of his sword underneath the larger man, he could only lower his chin as far as he could and take the blade to the face. He felt the burn as Clavil went limp and the wetness both on his hands and on his face. The ribs that had been wounded earlier were now certainly broken and his entire body felt bruised as he pushed the man off and stood to regard the other men under his command. "Is everyone alright?" He asked with ragged breaths and blood running down his face. "We must complete the job now."

Bassal sat staring blankly at the ground. His good right eye seeing nothing more than the half closed left eye as the blood began trying on his face. In his mind his disbelief that he was still alive flodded that it almost hurt, both the shock of it and the joy of it was unmeasurable. He felt that he couldn't move every muscle was like stone his breath deep and shaky as he stared blankly at the ground.

Suddenley Kile's voice broke through "We must complete the job now." His brow furrowed What job? then he remembered, The tunnel from the old tower...we have to seal it he ground as his head turned round searching for Kile in the gloom, he saw him, at least what he thought was him, standing over a huge body of Fon'har Blood and ashes we won! he tried to smilebut it hurt his jaw to much so he grunted and forced himself with what willpower he had left to stand. He got to his feet and his knees almost buckled when he did but he kept himself up right groaning as he retrived his sword and resheathed it, the movements sloppy and shaky almost as bad when he was first starting out. He turned to Kile and said his voice haggered and barley comprehensible "What are your orders, Kile?"

Kile nearly groaned as his side ached and the gashes on his face and body burned. Having let go of the Void let him really feel them, but he as not so sure that it was a good idea. Looking around he saw that his men still stood. Thank the Light! Now lets be done with this. He thought as Bassal asked him what his orders were. "One of you go and get the bundle that the Captain gave us." He said as he regarded the broken blade in his hands, the tip of the sword was six inches shorter than it should be and the tip was facing the wrong way. He sheathed it as the bundle was brought to him. Working quickly he tied the fuses to the encased objects and went into the entrance to the Old Tower, placing them as he had been instructed. Feeling around in his pockets he realised that he didn't have a flint. "I don't suppose that either of you have something to start a fire with?" He asked. Just as he did so he heard a loud strong note not so far in the distance. From the descriptions that he had recieved it could only be a trolloc horn. "Quickly!" Kile shouted as he hurridly began trying to light the fuse with the stone wall and his sword.

Beatrise felt her resolve harden with Negrath's oath. She glanced to the Captain's face, only to whitness him writhe in pain. His hand flung to his mutilated - only halfway Healed - face. It was then when Beatrise realized that he now recognized what had happened to him. And then a miracle occured, as surely as if the Crator himself had breathed life into him. The man she had found hairs from death rolled to his feet. Yes! She thought with desperation. Yes!!

Beatrise stood carefully against her own pain. The Warder was like a talking corpse. And she knew that it was only the bond that enabled him to stand.

"You said you could skim, Aes Sedai," Beatrise winced at the sound of his scraping voice. Again her eyes slid off his face for fear of . . . doing something unseemly, like that upon first sight of him.
"Take us to the Old Tower ruins, below Late Pariah's Hall. There is no time for anything else!"

Beatrise looked to her Mother for confirmation, and she received her answer, "I will fight with you. Take us, Daughter." The Blue Sister smiled momentarily, The quest is preserved, thank the Light! But her smile quickly faded when the Amyrlin Seat recognized the identity of the other Trainee. Oh, Creator, please . . . Beatrise prayed, gripping her deep blue skirts tightly with anxiety, . . please let her see the greater Light of Amora Sedai's purpose . . . Her sky blue eyes flickered over the Amyrlin Seat's face, searching for a sign. And then there was none. The Amyrlin Seat instead turned her gaze on Beatrise heself. That is worse than a reprimand . . . And she sighed, how would she answer for this?

And then the voice of Amora Sedai took form in her mind, with kind and wise words that fed the fire of resolve. Weave Sister, 'tis your cue.

Beatrise then turned to the only cleared area left, the murky water to her left. She waved one bandaged arm over the area, and the doorway opened unto a platform. "Follow me." She looked back only once with that same confidence that had brought her here, "And keep your eyes on the horizon. None know the depths below."

And then, they were gone. For the briefest of moments their small party existed naught in this world. They crossed a path that pinched the Pattern. Beatrise, the Amyrlin Seat, her Warder, Neilan, Negreath, and six remaining Tower Guard sped across the railess plank.

Would they be blown to pieces on the other side? It was the only question that Beatrise asked herself as the platform ended. But her resolve carried through, Justice must be served.

"I don't suppose that either of you have something to start a fire with? Quickly!"

It was the first phrase they heard stepping out of the gateway into the depths of the legendary Old Tower. Encircled in soft yellow-white light, they half-ran to the Trainees who were huddled like cubs. The Blue Sister's slippers left a trail of wet foot-prints in her stead. She glanced right and left. Fear gripped her. A Fade, and a great Sa'ji'alantin lay in blood on the floor. Yet that is not what frightened her.

Trollocs!! Not only did she hear the alien horn, but she felt them . . . many of them . . coming . . like beasts on the scent of wounded prey.

"I do." The injured Aes Sedai answered with serenity like an Angel of Light. She gradually slowed her approach to a hault. She realized then what the Captain had meant by sealing the tunnel. That bundle was filled with Illuminator's works. This side of the ruins would collapse and seal that army that was marching towards them. Two Trainees made way for her, and the bandaged Blue Sister kneeled. There was no time for neither introductions nor explanations. Not even proof that they stood in the Light. Beatrise gripped the sroll in her left hand, thankful she had not lost it between here and there. "I will open a Skim, follow me then." They were her only words before a faint spark hovered above her forefinger.

"Follow me." the Aes Sedai had said while Caden Ives accepted the wet hilt of his sabre from Negrath Devir, "And keep your eyes on the horizon. None know the depths below."

Staggering forward, the Gaidin Captain had followed together with Leanna and the rest. His sense of balance slowly steadied itself, but his respiration was still hoarse and thick and he had to lean on his wet blade in order to keep himself upright. What happened to me? he wondered, but the question was irrelevant... only the urgency that lived in his heart mattered. Why can I not open my right eye? He had lifted his blade there in the void outside the Pattern and stared at the reflection on the steel.

A lidless white eye stared back at him from the scar tissue which had been the right side of his face. There was no ear to be seen on that side of the head but a hole in its stead, and most of the hair on that side had been seared away. The skin was intact even though the craters and rifts there held deep shadows, but what was must peculiar was that it appeared he had been burned many years ago... even though the immediate proximity of his fancloak and armour smelled like it had been thrown into a fireplace and then bathed in water just recently.

His mind did not work properly yet, and he could not grasp the fact of what he saw in the reflection, so he lowered his blade again with a distant expression. Jagged and faded memories of a fight danced in the corners of his reason, and the smile of a young man in a Dedicated's uniform emerged. The Dawn of Blood, he remembered, Did he leave me to die on my own? Why did he not finish me?

He had no time for such ponderings, for Kile Durann spoke up beyond the dusty hall they emerged in, "I don't suppose that either of you have something to start a fire with? Quickly!"

There was no hesitation as they all followed the young Aes Sedai onto the platform. They left the tunnel of murky water and entered a place of nothingness. She didn't dare look down and tried to suppress the twang of helplessness that crept over her with saidar taunting her. She just couldn't reach out and touch it. The craving to hold it was overcoming her and she gripped her skirts to keep from shaking. She could have made a Gateway to help save Beatrise's strength for Healing, if only the forkroot would wear off!

The gateway opened to the other side and Leanna was relieved to step off the platform and back onto solid ground. The scene before them was rather horrid, but a surge of hope flooded her chest at the sight of the boys with the illuminator's fireworks. Even though the swarm of shadowspawn was heavy and the sound of the horn frightening to the ears, she pressed forward with Beatrise Sedai.

"I do," the woman spoke, her voice a jingle of peace, as one would expect from any Aes Sedai, despite their haggard appearances. Leanna watched, with scrutinizing blue eyes as a spark of fire appeared over the woman's hands.

****

Neilan hung towards the back of the group as they Skimmed across the Pattern. The look on his mother's face might appear expressionles to anyone else looking at her, but he knew she seethed with anger. It would be best to keep his distance until all this was over, and maybe even then, too. He shifted uncomfortably, staring at the en'Damier livery he wore.

When they arrived, his head shot up and he gazed around, seeing the fade and the sa'ji'alantin lying on the ground. He ran his fingers through his black tousled curls, sucking in a deep breath. Blood ran across the ground and he wrinkled his nose in distaste. He stayed back, simply surveying the surroundings and flinched at the sound of a trolloc horn down the hall. He pulled his sword, fear gripping his muscles. Weren't Aes Sedai and Warders supposed to sense Shadowspawn? They would have known they were coming, yet they stood there without seeming to hurry, nor an expression of fear.

He stepped up, closer to Beatrise Sedai. He was supposed to protect her, and his sense of duty was returning to him. He avoided, however, looking at his mother and focused on the dark tunnel where trollocs could appear.

Caden arrived only ahead of the group of Tower Guard that followed them, with Leanna, Neilan and Negrath already there. His single eye whirled about, taking in the scenario. His shadow sense screamed at him now, the Dark One's minions were not far beyond the tunnel opening where the Ji'alantin were trying to ignite the fuse of one of the two bundles together with the rest of his old companions. He saw also the headless corpse of a Myrdraal and the dead and bloodied body of Sa'ji'alantin Clavil Fon'har... his student of past days in the Yards.

"I do," answered the Aes Sedai, and the name 'Beatrise' suddenly emerged from somewhere in his mind.

The Gaidin Captain staggered forward towards the tunnel opening like a drunkard, yet the grip of on his long sabre was iron-firm. The dust on the floor summoned small clouds in his wake. "Place the black powder on both sides of the tunnel!" he shouted thickly in his raw and rasping voice as he pointed shakily with his free hand towards the small group he had left behind earlier that Light-forsaken day. "One bundle on either side! Hurry! The Aes Sedai will light the fuses!"

"I will open a Skim, follow me then," said Beatrise, already by their side as she addressed the probably shocked group of trainees.

"Do as she says, there is no bloody time!" he added when he reached them, supporting himself by leaning towards the wall until they could escape the explosion.

As the world returned to normal around Jan, as his combat senses died down when he realized there was no one left to fight, he became aware of two things. First was the fact that he hurt. He hurt a lot. Something warm and sticky was running freely down his back, making his Drin uniform cling to him with an unpleasant feeling. The wound in his shoulder, that he had acquired in his fight with Guara, had come open again during the fight with the Myrdraal. And, if the pain he was feeling was any indication, it had actually gotten worse.

The second thing he became aware of was Kile, running frantically with both bundles of explosive powder on his shoulders. Jan swore when he realized the torch had gone out, and was about to answer Kile's frantic question when someone else did it for him.

I do. the voice was that of a woman, and Jan turned in surprise to see an Aes Sedai he did not recognize and...

Oh blood and ashes, it was Caden. The man was horribly scarred, and Jan couldn't even begin to imagine what was keeping the Gaidin Captain on his feet. But there was no time for that now. Ignoring the pain in his shoulder, Jan grabbed the other bundle from where Kile had placed it and ran to place it against the other wall. He could hear the booted feet of hundreds, maybe thousands, of trollocs coming steadily closer, and he rattled off every curse he knew as he ran full out and slammed the bundle up against the far wall.

"It is done, my lord," Jan shouted over the sound of footfalls. "Now would be a veryu good time to light the fuses, I think."

Having followed along as the group scuffled onto, and then off, the curious transport, Negrath followed the Aes Sedai as they approached the scene before them.
He found himself studying the dead Fade with an intent gaze, despite the unlikelyhood that he'd meet another and not recognize its nature.
Hearing Caden give his orders, he straightened the slightest bit, hand going to the hilt of his blade as he scanned the surrounding murk.
Seeing his companion focusing his attention on an opening, he set his sights to seeking what surprises the rest of the place might hold, ever ready to turn his full attention on the opening that were so clearly the most obvious exit for the Dark One's hordes...

Bassal cursed himself for a loght blinded fool for dropping the torch he carried during the last engagement. He quickly searched around him for something else to light the fuses with when his head sanpped round towards the opening they were closing. A horn, he didn't know much about horns but from the looks on his companions face he knew it wasn't good. He grit his teeth and searced harder, and almost went for his sword when a womens voice spoke. Light how'd she get here he looked around the people who had appeared from nowhere.

He noticed a couple of traines from the yards, two Aes Sedai and a horribley scarred man along with a few tower guards. his eyes whipped back to the scarred man when he heard his voice Captain Ives! he knew enough to not stare especially at a time like this as Janis rushed passed him slamming the other bundle, his foot falls echoing in with those coming from the opening, down opposite the one Kile had placed. Although he still found it hard to move his jaw and he spoke up right after Janis "I agree, now would defiantley be a good time."

Beatrise kneeled over the remaining bundle as the other was transported by a dutiful dark-grey clad Trainee to the other side of cavern. She waited for him to back away before acting. Her gut writhed in anxiety and her heart pounded in her ears. The Trollocs were nearly upon them! Flame it, how could so many have come?! Her gaping sky blue eyes glanced over her shoulder, and a doorway into nothingness formed in preparation. In one mind's hand she held it there, and in the other the readied spark. But quickly she felt the drain of life's energy from her bones. She prayed she could still run fast enough after one healing and her third successive Skim . .

And then sound turned to sight. More shadowspawn than could be counted emerged like shadows from the darkness. Their swords and maces gleamed like agents of pain in the dim light. A bloodlust cry fell upon all ears and sent shivers down the wounded Aes Sedai's spine.

Beatrise dipped her finger to the first bundle before her. The fuse lit and she rose with the aid of the nearest Trainee. Then she threw her arm in a single graceful arch. The second spark flew from her index finger toward the far-sided bundle. Yet she knew not how far up the fuse it had lit . . .

"Now!" She echoed over the thunderous claps of chain mail and plated boots. With aching limbs she moved half-dazed towards their exit. Faintly she felt the slash of a blade across her shoulder, and she lurched forward. The Skim shivered as if from the dream. She only hoped it would not close if she lapsed into involuntary sleep, or open into yet another nightmare. Only dimly was she aware that the Tower Guard remained behind. She didn't hear the Lieutenant's last salute. Later she would understand . . . they had bought precious time for the others' escape. Like good soldiers, they sacrificed their lives for the greater whole. Even if they had lived through the onslaught of Trolloc and Fade, the cavern would have buried these men. The Tower's battle cry rung in her ears, and she heard the clash of steel against flesh, growls and howls, the cries of agony from good men on the altar of Light.

And then Beatrise stumbled onto the platform. She felt the thunder of rock shattering behind them as presently as she heard it. The force pushed her forward, and for a moment she feared she would fall into the treacherous depths below. But a kind Trainee caught her before she passed beyond the rail-less platform. She held on, thankfully.

"Come," she breathed, "there is much to explain on the other side. I do not think I can hold this pinch of the pattern for long . . ."

The gateway snapped shut behind them. The only way now was forward, forward to the Claw Stone and the prophesized battle at dusk on this day of blood.

Chapter Five: Where the Ripples End
~Ripple One: Meanings
~Ripple Two: The Hall
~Ripple Three: Decisions
~Ripple Four: The Messenger
~Ripple Five: Shadow
~Ripple Six: The Clawstone
~Riple Seven: The Claw Stone Aftermath
~The Final Ripple

Return to the Ripples Intro