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| Confrontation (ATTN: Zakrrid); (Shen al'N'dore al'Mordero Quarters) | |
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| Topic Started: Oct 17 2008, 03:04 PM (64 Views) | |
| Sarecer | Oct 17 2008, 03:04 PM Post #1 |
Rei al'Aman Val
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Two days after the events in the Amyrlins office Sarecer sat behind his desk staring at a piece of paper. He face was blank but beneath the surface his mind raged. He could not believe that he had been duped by Zakriid. What angered him the most was that the man could find enough sitters to enact sanction 31. He knew it would not hold there was not enough evidence and there were to many loose ends. But the gall of the man to even hint at such a betrayal by the Amyrlin was beyond him. Sarecer looked out the window at the stormy weather lightening flashed in the sky followed closely by thunder. Standing he pushed his chair back and walked into the center of the room. He opened himself to the power and let the raging waters of fire and ice flow through him. The constant battle invigorated him scowling wickedly he opened a gateway and stepped through into another office. He felt the trap spring but he was quick to put his defenses into place. The trap hit and fizzled out. If he had not had over 200 years of experience with the power he was sure he would have been burnt out. A thought that would usually cause a shiver to run through his spine bounced off the void. Turning he looked at Zakriid in time to catch a hint of the surprise on the mans face before it was washed away. "Zakrrid," Sarecer said calmly, "I apologize for barging into your office, but we need to talk." Sarecer paused and glanced at the desk. "I will replace your desk if you wish." He finished lifting his hand to push his long hair behind his ear. He glanced again at the large section of desk laying on the floor were his gateway passed through it. |
 Talents: Spinning Earthfire, Blossom of Fire, Foretelling (sporadic) | |
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| Zakriid | Nov 2 2008, 11:31 PM Post #2 |
Rei al'N'dore al'Mordero
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There were certain watchwords in existence which were enough to lever individuals into appropriable positions. Darkfriend was one of those words. Zakriid had but to allude to it, and offer minimally sufficient evidence to hint at what he meant, and the ebb and flow of cloak and dagger polotics shifted his way. It all came down to one thing, a tainted Amyrlin could not stand. Browns, Whites, and Greys were Zakriid's favourites. Those devoid of compassion, or mired in strict tradition were more pliable to Zakriid's brand of reasoning, the correct brand of reasoning. Now while the Dancing Death Rei might instigate events and opinions into his favour, the ultimate fact was, he had not fabricated the evidence, there truly was something rotten at the heart of the Tower, and that was simply unacceptable. It was worse to do nothing, to waste time with qualms of morals or the upstanding reputation of an Amyrlin. If Zakriid had to lean on people and throw around his authority, and maybe cajole and coerce people here and there, he would, if it got things done. The less likely an Amyrlin seemed capable of being a Darkfriend, the less chance Zakriid could take. The most dangerous of dark individuals would be the most seemingly innocent. And if the Amyrlin were truly innocent, then all well and good, but if she were not, well that chance alone (slim as it might be) was reason enough to induct an inquisition. No matter what Zakriid did in the name of Draconian legalities, the ends justified the means. Rules, orders, social niceties, and personal feelings could and would be bent, pride could be stung and relations affronted, because those things could be repaired. What a clever shadowed Amyrlin could break, could not. It was the eve of war! If the dissension and chaos the like of which Alviarin and Elaida had engendered centuries earlier were fostered now, it would take just as much if not more time to undue it as it had then. An age had ended and an apocalypse had been fought against the Shadow to repair that damage; how could that compare to forcing a trial and enacting sanction 31? These thoughts and more flashed through Zakriid's head as he was mulling over the previous week's events. His agents were working through their wetworks games to bring around the trial, and hopefully forestall a full gathering of the Hall, and the convening of those unreceptive to his flavour of persuasion. If he could strong arm and trick enough authorities into backing him, and the sooner he could put the Amyrlin to the question, the better. If the binder (oathrod) would not suffice, Zakriid would be forced to use the breaker. A tragedy if it came to that, for few if any recovered from having their mind broken wide open, but other leaders could be found to replace the subsequently brain-damaged Amyrlin, so long as the truth was rooted out. And maybe the Amyrlin was as innocent as she protested, however that counted for little, since puppets of the Shadow were most often effective because they were wholly unaware of being compromised. The Amyrlin might very well have no recollection of writing the writ authorising the weapons transfer, that did not pre-negate the option of her perpetraating the treason though; in that case she would indeed be a victim, but a guilty victim nonetheless. Zakriid could not compose his features straight off when he felt his ward trigger, but it was enough that the incoming gateway would not be able to open right on top of him and decapitate his most valuable personage. That at the very least his ward had seen to, even at the cost of his most beatific and masterwork cherry wood desk. The second ward tripped when the unexpected invader stepped out of the gateway, this ward was parried. It had not been inverted because the obviousness of this ward hid his other ward (which kept gateways from slicing him to pieces, and that was far more an important task than simply stopping incursions.) "Zakriid, I apologize for barging into your office, but we need to talk. I will replace your desk if you wish." Zakriid looked visibly askew for a moment, before aligning his features impassively. With a wry tone he perorated, "Oh? I'm more worried that you make such a poor guest, not accepting my hospitality sooner, and turning down your guest-right. I do say, that ward would have done little but make you most happy." It would do just that, it would attack the pleasure centre of the brain, creating an overdose of 'happy chemicals,' much like lethal opiates achieved. Such a level of pleasure stimulation shattered minds and created an addiction junkie. It gave Zakriid a measure of control over that person, because few knew the detailing of the crippling pleasure ward, and none of them from this world. Zakriid's area of Powered expertise lied wholly within Spirit, and thus intangibles like the mind. If Sarcerer had not parried the ward, he would be a drooling invalid for the next half hour, wrapped in his own Power induced nirvanna, and jonsing for a repeat fix ever after that. A pity the other Rei had not made things so simple, but by not accepting that ward, things had just become... difficult. |
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"I watched my world burn under the arms of chaos and madness, who are you to judge me until it happens here? Follow my words and pray to the Light that it never come to that." -Zakriid, addressing a critic, right before pushing him into a skimming gateway. Spirit Elementalism | |
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| Sarecer | Nov 11 2008, 10:20 PM Post #3 |
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Rei al'Aman Val
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Sarecer looked down at the little man his hair flowing down below his shoulders. His face had begun to show signs of age that and the silver hair made him even more intimidating. For an Asha'man to have lived as long as Sarecer had meant he was experienced, as well as having a spark inside them that allowed them to live when others died. Men like him had a strength about them that other men, that other Asha'man wished to have. Looking at Zakriid, Sarecer saw strength behind his eyes. It wasn't physical power or power in the one power, it was the strength of someone who had lived through disaster. Having read reports on the world they had come from Sarecer could understand the strength of the little man. What he would not understand nor forgive was what the man was bringing about. Sapphira was innocent of the charges brought against her. Listening to Zakriid speak took effort. "Oh? I'm more worried that you make such a poor guest, not accepting my hospitality sooner, and turning down your guest-right. I do say, that ward would have done little but make you most happy." Taking a seat across from Zakriid Sarecer was quiet for a moment and continued his study of the man. "Happy would be an understatement if I haven't missed my guess." Sarecer said chuckling softly, "I am not here for your hospitality. I am here to speak." He paused to float two glasses and a tea pot over to the table. He poured himself a glass and set the other cup and the pot onto the desk. Taking a sip he frowned and continued. "I did not appreciate being put into that situation. You should have told me everything you knew." Sarecer did not let go of the power. |
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Talents: Spinning Earthfire, Blossom of Fire, Foretelling (sporadic) | |
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| Zakriid | Nov 11 2008, 11:25 PM Post #4 |
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Rei al'N'dore al'Mordero
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Sarecer was of the old guard, an ambivalent creature of antiquity, it was one of the reason's that the flaring redhead tolerated the man's company and it's grossly ungracious presumptions. Of course while Zakriid often played with the airs and the civilities of the whites, both men shared a common history if worlds apart in the nature of their Black Towers, the Rei guessed. The man's very airs and actions spoke of a much older and more Draconian outlook. Back in the days when there was still a Farm to speak of, when the taint was remembered, and everything was done with the Power. Zakriid did not come from the same era, but had grown up with its spirit. Oh sure, some facsimile of civilisation was held, but it still came down to a primarily aggressive militant organization. Politics of the sword were as much the rule as anything written down in the books. Unlike this world where the Black had centuries to evolve and the Towers had more peaceably come together, it was only in the face of mutually assured extinction that his own world's Towers had allied for Tarmon Gai'don. The wild command of Sarecer's nature, a brutal relic, is what Zaks respected, and why he accepted these archaic forms of 'hospitality.' "Happy would be an understatement if I haven't missed my guess. I am not here for your hospitality. I am here to speak. I did not appreciate being put into that situation. You should have told me everything you knew." Zakriid steepled his fingers, which was certainly off putting as it emphasised the absence of one arm, but none the less it was somehow fitting due to his physique already being split by his mismatched eyes. "You'll find my dear Rei, that you were given as much as anyone outside my Shen is given for information, prior to anunveiling; more in fact. What you would ask for, for me to take you into my confidence, well I quite doubt that you're prepared to pay the high price for such a privilege." Zakriid paused only long enough to slip a hand into his desk and remove a piece of toffy, popping the tidbit in his mouth before continuing. "Yes, I said privilege, because only those within the Rei and its fellowship of fidelity have a right to all my information. Everyone guards their intelligence networks most carefully, the only difference with me is that every one in my Shen has a full accounting of everything I know, and only because they are all above and beyond reproach." Zakriid did not think the man would enjoy the tea very much, few could enjoy the bitter tang of Gooseberry, Loganberry, and Poisonberry; which despite the name only tasted like poison, it was actually quite a useful laxative when ingested in even moderate amounts. In minimal quantities it helped to settle the stomach after a meal, though. |
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"I watched my world burn under the arms of chaos and madness, who are you to judge me until it happens here? Follow my words and pray to the Light that it never come to that." -Zakriid, addressing a critic, right before pushing him into a skimming gateway. Spirit Elementalism | |
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| Sarecer | Nov 12 2008, 12:36 AM Post #5 |
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Rei al'Aman Val
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Sarecer placed tea glass on one of his knees balancing it carefully so as not to spill its contents. It definitely wasn't something he would normally drink. He would finish the glass though to stubborn to admit he didn't like it. Leaning back in the chair he watched Zakriid wondering what the younger Asha'man was thinking. Sarecer thought about the world the man came from, what it must have been like. There would have been the manipulation and political bureaucracy that has infected this world but there would have been clear enemies. Sarecer would have been in his element battling the shadow on the front lines raining destruction upon the enemy like a vicious storm on the north sea's wrecking havoc on the shipping lanes. The glass shifting on his knee brought him out of the thought and back to the present. He hated bureaucracy. After Zakriid finished explaining himself Sarecer nodded. "I Commend you for keeping secrets." He paused, "But even the least skillful of us can do that. I did not ask you to tell me every piece of intelligence your Shen has come upon. What I said was that I should have been informed about Sapphira. I did not walk beside you to her office to arrest the Amyrlin. I walked with you to question her about the document. You have insulted me by putting me in this situation. I do not like your manipulations." He paused and took another sip of the vile tea. |
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Talents: Spinning Earthfire, Blossom of Fire, Foretelling (sporadic) | |
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| Zakriid | Nov 12 2008, 11:30 PM Post #6 |
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Rei al'N'dore al'Mordero
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Zakriid looked at the man, as the tea was set down, and scrutinised him through mismatched eyes, and wondered at the dreamy scent of wistfulness coming from the Rei. Maybe he was remembering something glorious and vain in his youth, it was amazing how many gruff and elderly codgers could be stripped down to nothing with the plague they called nostalgia. Then again, maybe the Rei was having a premature bowel movement; the characture of the brazen and antiquated hero was Light knew how long old enough for it. However, Zakriid stilled his tongue, only tittering slightly with the amusement at his own jape. It did not matter what the Rei thought, only what he did. Zakriid could tolerate the man because he did things that worked towards the greater good of the combined towers, an ends shared by Zakriid, even if their means diverged excessively. In the simplest terms, Sarecer was summed up as an antique sword and Zakriid was an exotic garrote, an assassin's weapon far less common in this side of the world. The west lands were far more avid of their knives and poison. Zakriid preferred diversity and flavour in his operations. "I Commend you for keeping secrets. But even the least skillful of us can do that. I did not ask you to tell me every piece of intelligence your Shen has come upon. What I said was that I should have been informed about Sapphira. I did not walk beside you to her office to arrest the Amyrlin. I walked with you to question her about the document. You have insulted me by putting me in this situation. I do not like your manipulations." Zakriid raised his eyebrows for a moment, before tittering once more. "You, you honestly think that the least of our kind has been able to keep their secrets? Oh, oh, ho, ho, ho. Surely that is a lark, why even you must have bought some people in the other Shens, I certainly know some of my own have contrasts of interest. I tell ya what Sarecer, secret keeping isn't as trivial as they used to be in this age of information dealers. No not at all. And as to my 'manipulations,' I would point out that if not for the friends of yours and their gross mishandling of events, I would not have forced to turn an issue of edgework into something blunt and efficacious. It was they who forced my hand, not I. You knew everything that was relevant to the situation, and then the situation changed." Zakriid paused to roll the bit of toffee around on his tongue, before spreading a lolling grin upon his almost adolescent features. |
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"I watched my world burn under the arms of chaos and madness, who are you to judge me until it happens here? Follow my words and pray to the Light that it never come to that." -Zakriid, addressing a critic, right before pushing him into a skimming gateway. Spirit Elementalism | |
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| Sarecer | Nov 14 2008, 11:20 PM Post #7 |
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Rei al'Aman Val
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Sarecer lifted his hand and removed a stray bit of silver hair from in front of his face. He enjoyed the length of it but it often irritated him. After the hair was moved aside he again focused on the one armed boy in front of him. Listening to the haughty speech he used as his reply Sarecer had to admit he did pick a little bit of truth out of it. He kept the secrets his Shen produced carefully not trusting some of the men that claimed allegiance to Al'Aman Val. But the difference he told himself was that in a situation like this one he would have informed any Asha'man or Aes Sedai he recruited to stand beside him with all of the information pertaining to the task. "I do admit that secrets can be easily bought for the right price," He replied with a slight nod of his head giving Zakriid the point. "But somethings need to be told. I will not trust you in the future." He paused and smiled coldly at the man in front of him causing the other mans boyish grin to falter and turn into a scowl. A scowl he was sure any lesser man would have feared but Sarecer feared nothing. He had seen to much to let fear register in his mind. Sarecers smile faded as he locked eyes with the young man. "I will protect Sapphira Calren. Al'Aman Val will protect the Amyrlin Seat." He finished forming the weaves to create agate way to his office but waiting for a reply before he let it open. |
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Talents: Spinning Earthfire, Blossom of Fire, Foretelling (sporadic) | |
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| Zakriid | Nov 15 2008, 12:04 AM Post #8 |
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Rei al'N'dore al'Mordero
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"I do admit that secrets can be easily bought for the right price," Zakriid noticed he didn't out and out admit having bought anyone, similar to how he himself had only said his own people might have juxtaposed interests. An important distinction in admitting something is possible, and in admitting that something has been done. Zakriid began to idly run his fingers along the smooth bevelled edge of his cherry wood desk, enjoying the oiled contours. "But somethings need to be told. I will not trust you in the future." At this point, Zakriid's previously jovial and warm demeanour evaporated, leaving a touch in the air, a scowl on features. Trust? He wouldn't trust Zakriid in the future? No doubt about it, Zakriid was dealing with a blunter breed of warrior. Sarecer asked for more than he had needed, and while the man seemed to have a tyrant's expectations, Zakriid refrained from breaking down and capitulating like a Novice caught hugging a stable boy in the wrong places. "I will protect Sapphira Calren. Al'Aman Val will protect the Amyrlin Seat." And that was it, the final nail in the coffin. Zakriid entertained and was tolerant of a lot of things, but unfortunately things had just become unacceptable. With a flick of his wrist, Zakriid had drawn a dagger and driven it down with a thunk into the desk, the handle angled towards the other Asha'man. Zakriid was on his feet like lightning, but he had not drawn an aggressive stance, nor was his arm raised, and neither had he drawn upon the Power. Instead he used the edge of his tongue. "Shen Al'Aman Val Rei: Sarecer; I do not give a burning blood and ashes where your personal feelings and loyalties lay; first and foremost your professional ties are to those Towers United. The oaths of service we swear are to them, and not to a throne placed in the Hall of Servants, nor to anyone whom may sit upon it. Moreover, I would remind you that while Sanction 31 is in effect, the current Amyrlin Seat is no longer one and the same as those Towers. Your protection cannot legally extend above my execution of the writ in prosecuting any and all guilty parties. If you are proclaiming open treason, I must ask that you take the knife and cut those coloured bands from your uniform now, and resign your commission of office. Otherwise I will assume you were simply being gallant, poetic words uttered as emptily as any other figure of speech, and leave it at that. You have my permission to consider yourself dismissed." |
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"I watched my world burn under the arms of chaos and madness, who are you to judge me until it happens here? Follow my words and pray to the Light that it never come to that." -Zakriid, addressing a critic, right before pushing him into a skimming gateway. Spirit Elementalism | |
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| Sarecer | Nov 15 2008, 02:32 AM Post #9 |
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Rei al'Aman Val
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Sarecer smiled again as the younger Asha'man exploded into motion. He watched as he slammed the dagger home deeply embedding the blade into the solid wood of the desk. He had expected his words to cause a reaction and he was pleased with himself for having done just that. When Zakriid finished his flamboyant speech Sarecer let his gateway open up. "You are mistaken boy," Sarecer said emphasizing the last word. "Treason of the worst kind has already been committed. But some are to blind by their past to see what they are doing. Your 'Sanction 31' is flimsy at best I will see to it that the full Hall meets and then we will see what those who have not been bought and those who are not blinded by ambition believe. You have made a mistake. My world is not yours." Taking a step to the desk he reached down and plucked the dagger out of the wood examining the blade. "This is good steel." He said sticking the blade into a band on his belt. "We will see who's colours are cut from who's shoulders. Good day" He finished as he stepped through his doorway closing it quickly behind him. Walking to his desk he poured himself a glass of wine and took a sip. Opening the a drawer in his desk he sat down in the large wooden desk and reread the report. An Aes Sedai of the darkest sort is suspected her servant is being tracked. Signed A.V.106 Sarecer smiled again as he replaced the note into his warded desk. Edited by Sarecer, Nov 15 2008, 02:34 AM.
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Talents: Spinning Earthfire, Blossom of Fire, Foretelling (sporadic) | |
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| Zakriid | Nov 15 2008, 03:09 AM Post #10 |
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Rei al'N'dore al'Mordero
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Zakriid watched the old Asha'man go, taking none of the words to heart. Once the elder man was absent from his presence the cold mask dropped away to reveal the same lolling grin, this time another knife was in his hand, much the twin to the other. Not everything was as it seemed, quietly Zakriid slipped from out of his desk, walked over to the shelf on the rear wall and probed the hand mirror resting there with a weave of spirit coded to his own design. The hand mirror shivered, went cold and then the long, full body mirror in the opposing corner of the office rippled and went shear. The glass in the wall mirror drew away, pulled into the golden frame like a mercury curtain; revealing a hidden passage beyond. Zakriid loved ter'angreal. A tall and gaunt Asha'man stood leaning in that passage way, a lazy smile on grizzly emaciated features. "How'd you know he'd take the blade, ser?" "I didn't Barrin, I could only guess. He was right not to trust me." The tall Asha'man Barrin seemed to consider these words before responding. "Begging your pardon ser, but if we're to save this world, won't we have to trust each other?" Zakriid saddled up into the passage, the silvery liquid curtain pooling back into place in his wake; solidifying. The Rei gave his subordinate an incredulous look. "That kind of fool's trust is why the Shadow runs deep in these Towers. You have to become like the shadows to fight shadows, Barrin. We trust in the oaths taken, not the oath takers." The gaunt blackcoat still looked unsure, but simply rolled his bony shoulders as if to say it didn't matter. Zakriid agreed to the silent gesture with a nod, and they moved on. Barrin moved through the inner passage a step behind the far shorter Rei, whom tossed in a last word as they began their descent down a spiralling set of stairs. "'Sides, 'fraid that the old demon is far too late to matter." Reaching the bottom of the stairs, they stopped just short of a hidden door, at which a third Asha'man with gold-flecked green eyes and mahogany curls stood at attention. "Banes!" "Ser?" "I assume everything is ready." "Yes, ser. The war tribunal is ready to ring in session at your command." "Excellent." Zakriid concluded, stepping through a door, hidden in an empty cell in the Towers' dungeons. The goal of this sojourn was one of the vaults down here, which had been arrayed into a temporary justiciary's hall. A trial for an Amyrlin was set to begin. Far too late indeed. Thought the red Rei. |
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"I watched my world burn under the arms of chaos and madness, who are you to judge me until it happens here? Follow my words and pray to the Light that it never come to that." -Zakriid, addressing a critic, right before pushing him into a skimming gateway. Spirit Elementalism | |
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9:43 PM Nov 25
