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A sleepless night..

Posted by analyianitholan on 2006.08.30 at 20:38
After a year and a half in Novice White, Analyia felt as though life before The White Tower and Tar Valon was nothing more then a hazy dream. It had been eighteen months since she last stepped off Tower grounds, and now that she was finally able to leave, she wished nothing more then to be back within the tower gates. She wished everything that had happened within the last few months was nothing more then a terrible nightmare.

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Tour of duty

Posted by ghislord on 2006.08.30 at 08:47
The day was growing long as the afternoon sun slowly droped down from the sky. In the neatly arrayed camp, life went on as if nothing was going on. The hustle of men cooking the evening meal and patrols returning to camp kept the athmosphere lively and busy. The horses wer being tended to on their lines, the last loads of wood were coming in from the surounding forest and the last tasks of the day were being completed before the sun went down. Sitting in front of one of the tents allong one of the perfectly straight rows of perfectly identical tents, a man, dark of skin and hair, broad of shoulders and round of face sat close one of the fires, strapping his breastplate on. Across from him three men were playing dice while a fourth prepared what passed for food here. "Are you going to play tonight Maerec or are you going to skulk?" The dark man raised his head and looked at his companion. "Not tonight Vacsa, I have night watch to prepare for." The balding Tearan man looked at him with a wide grin on his face and shook his head. "Always affraid to lose your coin, are you. I thought you sea folk were ones to take chances. No matter, I'll take thier money instead." Maerec resumed tightening the straps on his crimson breastplate and his mind wandered off to the sea, to the opened air and the sound of the wind in the sails. He could barely remember the smell of the ocean, the soothing motion of the boat on the waves. Now there was only duty and honor.

A hand fell on his shoulder and he jerked his head up. "Come now Maerec, you have time for a round or two. We'll take their money yet." A wide grin split the young man's face from ear to ear. Mathrim cauthon walked forward and removed his ridiculous hat from his head to dust off the plain wodden bench on the edge of the fire and sat down. Only then did he realise taht all the men around were standing at attention. He rose and saluted, right fist on his heart. "Bloddy ashes! None of that. I've come here to play some dice, not to lead a bloody army." "Yes Lord mat.", answered Vacsa solemnly and they all sat down, a bit nervous at the thought of losing their money to him. Mat's luck was legendary and the men of the band were always hesitant to wager their hard earned pay against him. "So no one is willing to play?" And the dice started to roll. The men, as expected, were losing their money and Marec kept getting ready. He had his large two handed sword strapped to his back and his spear rested against the tent not two paces from him. He was ready. "Play a round before you go, it won't hurt." He spun around and looked at Lord Cauthon who was waving him to take a seat. The sun was not yet entirely hidden behind the trees. He has a few minutes left before he has to replace the current guards. He moved towards the warmth of the fire and sat next to Vacsa.

"You look worried. A worried soldier is not a good soldier. What's wrong?""How do you remember my name?" Lord Mat barked out a merry laugh."not many seafolk in my army, lets say that you're hard to miss.. or forget. Plus, you showed skill against the Aiel, i've heard talk of you, fighting with an ar
row in your leg and a spear in your side." Maerec's hand slid to his right side, grabbig the armor where the scar that still pained him when he made an effort lay. Mat handed him the dice and cup. "I'll wager silver against your copper. Now, answer me." He took the cup in hand and dropped 3 copper pieces on the ground. "Have you ever been betrayed?" Maerec's voice shook audibly as he spoke, the dice starting to rumble in the cup. Mat's eyes were looking inside himself now, a look that showed a man searching for something within. "Probably, maybe. Everybody feels betrayed sometimes." The dice hit the ground and tumbled to a stop. Two fours and three fives. A good roll. "And have you ever betrayed anyone?" Lord mat picked up the dice and took the cup from the tall sea man. "Perhaps... but, no, not I." He looked lost deep in thoughts. the cup rumbled again as the wooden dice tumbled around and Mat tossed them without lookig."Then you cannot understand" Mat was looking at him sternly and silently. Both of them stared at each other for a long moment before the Taeren man spoke up. "Bloody ashes Lord Mat that's the dark one's roll" Both players looked down at five dice that showed the single pip. "Looks like you win friend." With those words, Mat stood up, placed the hat back on his head and moved on. "Perhaps I do." Maerec stood up as well, picked up his spear and startel walking to his post. The three silver pieces and three coppers stayed on the ground behind him until Vacsa picked them up and placed them in Maerec's bag inside his tent.

Upon Silent Winds of Change

Posted by hawk_jahad on 2006.08.30 at 06:19
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Posted by ghislord on 2006.08.27 at 19:38
Many months had passed since he had been cast away from the Atha'an Mier. The land under his feet reminded him that he hadn't set foot on the planks of a ship's deck in much too long. The sun setting in the far hils was blinding him. So far, his treck had taken him from Amadicia to Andor then Murandy untill he met him. You couldn't tell it from the way he sat in his saddle, the way he kept playing with his knives, with the stupid wide rimed hat on his head and the scarf around his neck but Matrim Cauthon was the best general he had ever seen. He was also a good man. He had given him a reason to kep going, to keep to his feet and stay alive. The Band of the red hand was his family now and he was learning how to live by the ways of the land folk.

It was a hard life, the life of a soldier, but he carried his two handed sword proudly and wore his red breastplate with pride. Already he had seen war and death, and victory. Now his feet were carying him towards a small village in the heart of the continent, a plce called Salidar. He did not know why but he followed, and he would follow untill he was told to stop because being part of the red hand was an honor, and he was Maerec Talodan, soldier of the red hand.

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Posted by riassa_desorven on 2006.08.27 at 13:58
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