Welcome to Gaia! ::

They both looked up and smiled as he came in, and he grinned back. The three of them were like siblings. But he was still the top, and they were all aware of it. And so long as they were, they would remain treated as a little brother or sister. Darien was the same height as Romvian, with short black hair and startlingly blue eyes. There was no denying that he was handsome, and that if it ever came to having to deal with women so simpering as to be stunned by looks, Romvian would choose Darien to accomplish the task. But as it was, no such women were part of his plans; his opponents were too tough to be put off by a face, or if they were, not for long.

Oryzen motioned him to one of the four remaining empty chairs, and poured him some ale. The other two had some out already. Brown haired and brown eyed, there was little to note about her, save for her hair. It was long and fell past her feet, plaited into not one, but numerous little braids. She always put it up into a bun in battle so it was never an encumberance. Neither of them showed any signs of the strange occurences of the past four months, which could be credited to Oryzen's unparalleled skills. Not that it mattered, for outside, they always had disguises, and even the very sul'dam had weaves implanted into them, where at a moment's whim, their images of the trio's faces could be blurred, altered, or removed.

Darien's first words were disturbing however. "Someone new came. But they must not have been new. One of the Tower started to race to him. So vehemently that she did not at first register the effects of the Tel'Dashar, until her body could no longer take it and caused her collapse. He is dark in a way, and yet not. I cannot make anything of him, save that he has frequented the prescence of the Dark Lord."

Romvian sat down and sipped at his ale. He looked at Oryzen. "I am still unsure of who he is; he must be from before we were involved. Do not worry, I will find out. In any case, he also is barred from Tel'ar'an'hoid, because he is a Wolfkin, and the poisonous fog affects them even faster than it does a regular Dreamer. You said you gave the Keeper the potion, without her knowledge? I was not completely finished with it; it will wear off probably within days. You could have asked me before pouring it down her throat."

"It was only an addition, and not a necessary one at that. It does not matter; or if it does, we're more than capable of laying our hands on whoever we need to give it to." Romvian could tell by the frown which still laced Oryzen's features that she wasn't happy with what they knew was his version of a type of apology.

"Also, the Oath Rod was used recently. To Unbind." Darien stated suddenly. Oryzen and Romvian turned to look at him, thinking about the implications of that statement.

"It could be an attempt to trick us." Oryzen said, knowing that it was a vain hope. "Who was it?"

"I couldn't tell, curse that filthy rat. It can't see any type of Power, and had a terrible surveillance point. I refuse to use them anymore Romvian; they're a waste." Darien stated.

Romvian acknowledged this with a nod. "As you wish. We will have to find out who it was; but first deal with this old stranger. In any case we will not be attacking the Tower too soon, for I want you two to have time to utilize your talents. I leave the particulars of this attack to you, since you have been unable to introduce yourselves, though try to avoid them finding out about you if it can be helped." Oryzen grinned in glee, and gave him a kiss on the cheek in thanks, while Darien was musing.

"Will you please get rid of those clouds now? It's rather a waste of Power; we could put the channelers to far better." Darien commented. Romvian nodded, and then went to his room to sleep, curious to know what the pair would come up with.

After running for more miles than he thought he could on such little energy Dupre sees a farm in the distance not knowing if its his mind playing tricks on him or if it is really there. Regardless he drops to the ground and starts sneaking up to the farm. After getting closer he notices that the buildings and fences are deteriorated so badly that they looked like they should collapse if the wind blew to hard. He stands back up and heads inside looking for anything that he might be able to make some use of. Once inside he sees that it wasn't really abandoned but rather attacked. He goes through all the drawers, cupboards and the pantry in the kitchen looking for some kind of food to fill his empty stomach. After not finding anything he wanders around the rest of the house, he walks into one of the bedrooms and sees the scattered remains of what he could only guess to be a child of maybe 10 or 11. He grits his teeth in anger and turns around and walks out of the room. He leaves the house shortly after wishing the trollocs hadn't taken everything. He looks into the barn hoping to see at least one chicken or something alive that he could eat before night fell. He leaves the barn even more disappointed that when he first walked into it. Feeling his hope slowing fading away he keeps trudging on towards Tar Valon with only determination keeping him going now he's starting to realize he wont make it much longer without at least water to keep him on his feet.

After he finished carrying the dead and wounded off the field he goes back to his tent and sits down on his make shift stool. He feels the side of his head where the sword had connected with his helmet, feeling what has already started to become a sore spot. He looks around his small tent and draws his sword and starts sharpening it mindlessly. He feels Merc on the other end of the bond and all her emotions flowing through he begins to realize how much he really has missed being around her the entire time he's been up in Fal Dara fighting the trollocs.

((Oh, my God, it's MERC! Yeay! And go Ali! 10/10!))

As Mairyela hurried along the corridors, she suddenly felt a shift around her. It was as though the air had become lighter. Looking out the window, she was met by a brilliant dark blue sky, the sun creeping towards the horizon. She stopped and stared a moment, then shook her head and continued. He's toying with us... she thought bitterly. I only hope I'm there when we confront him. along the hall, she saw a group of novices, whom were staring outside at the sudden turn in the weather. Anyone with even the slightest bit of skill in the Power know's something's wrong. The initiates are afraid, scared at not knowing...I'm scared at not knowing.

At the sight of her, the group scampered away, afraid of retribution for doddling in the hallways. She paid them no mind; as far as she was concerned, let them look. It might just help save them.

Walking into her room, she closed the door behind her. A small pine dresser lay in the corner, along with a full length mirror and a wash basin. Atop the dresser, a small Sea Folk porcelin vase sat, holding a sinlge rose. She had put it out when Wyralieghn had died, and it was still holding on. Walking over, she gave the flower a sniff before digging into the bottom drawer. Nestled there was a good, thick wool blanket. Grabbing it, she left without another glance at the lone rose.

The trip back to the room seemed shorter than it had taken to leave. Walking in, she noticed Alina had not moved a muscle. She seemed to be muttering something, but the words were inaudible. She tossed the blanket over the Yellow, who seemed to curl into it's warmth. Looking towards Hurein, she asked, "Did she mention anything while I was gone?"

The woman shook her head. "Nothing. She seems to be doing fine, though she's still unconscious." she glanced outside. "The sky has cleared up nicely though. What do you make of it?"

Mairyela shook her head. "I cannot say. The initiates are afraid, and I can't help but feel that something beyond our power is going to happen. We have to think of something before that time comes."

Darien looked around the Dream World. It had been extremely difficult to find the man's star, and even harder to get in. Whatever had happened to him had also affected his prescence here. It didn't matter now; he would succeed. The inside of the Warder's mind was completely blank, a sickly grey void. He embraced the Source, and extended thick bundles of Spirit outward; at first they seemed to go nowhere, but finally they managed to latch onto the spherical internal surface of the star.

He needed to know if this was working. A few moments of intense focus later, there were three large mirrors in front of him. The middle one showed nothing, but was black. The other two mirrors displayed both sides of Yurin. There was one Accepted there, studying some book or other. Darien played with the Spirit a little, and then finally settled it. He created a chair for himself, and sat down, gazing intently at the mirrors. This was tiring for anyone, even Romvian, and he would have to finish quickly. Darien nodded, and mumbled something. On the mirror, Yurin's right hand twitched. The Accepted, on his left side, did not notice. Perfect. In a flash, Yurin's body had gotten up and clasped his hand to the girl's throat, sending her into unconciousness. He would have to return before she woke up, though that was unlikely to be an issue. He arranged her in the chair to look as though she'd fallen asleep.

It was a good thing Yurin was an Asha'man. Darien tapped into the Source; the control was imprecise, but he managed to create two Illusion weaves. One showed a sleeping Yurin still on the bed, and the other made his body invisible. Both weaves were inverted. He paused. There were few male channelers in the Tower, but unfortunately for him, one of them was on this floor, just down the hall in fact. He'd have to risk it, and hope whoever it was hadn't sensed him yet.

Quickly opening the door, he stepped out into the hallway and closed it behind him. The door bore the insignia of the Amyrlin; at least he knew clearly where to bring Yurin's body back to-the Amyrlin's quarters. The male channeler he had sensed was in what he guessed was the Amyrlin's office. A door farther down to his left was closing, and there was the click and slide of a lock and bolt. The sigil on the door indicated the Keeper's quarters, and he thought he felt a bit of saidar used shortly after, but he couldn't be sure. It wasn't his concern. He had a long way to go, and was unsure of his route, so he would have to hurry. Darien directed the invisible body of Yurin down the hall towards the visible flight of stairs, hoping to get his information without being caught or intercepted by any of the male channelers.

((omg...i have to READ all that??? Merc, have you been possesed by Mog???))

((O.O insane you are yes?

we will miss you so very very much! (even tho you wont really be gone -.-))