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| On the Brink; OTA | |
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| Topic Started: Feb 8 2009, 05:37 PM (383 Views) | |
| Robert Laurel | Feb 8 2009, 05:37 PM Post #1 |
High King
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All is in readiness. All of the players are in position. Now is the time for the game to begin... Robert looked around from where he stood at the top of the dais. Sapphira and Reor were there on their thrones in the full regalia as the heads of their respective Towers. Ranged behind and slightly lower were the thrones for the rulers of Tear, Cairhien and Andor occupied by their respective sovereigns. Just behind them were the commanders of their armies. Aes sedai and asha'man were lined up to either side of the stairway that led up to the dais, and the Hall was filled with channelers of either sex, as well as with as many prominent citizens as could get in. There were even a few trainees; those who had been told off to assist. Guardsmen with pikes lined the entryway leading from the great doors to the stair. The buzz of the crowd overlay everything else. The ambassadors from the southern nations were waiting outside. The Whitecloaks had given up all pretense, and the Amadacian envoy was the second-in-command of the Children. That had caused a near riot in the City, and Robert had been forced to post guards around the Amadacian embassy to guarantee his safety. Cheeky bastards, he thought to himself. He was still wanted in Amadacia for thwarting the Whitecloaks in their attempt to seize control of Altara. He looked over at Sorcha in her place behind Queen Morgause of Andor. She smiled back. Then he looked over at King Alain of Cairhien, who refused to meet his eyes. "Sapphira, I think we're ready," he said in a low tone to the Amyrlin. Robert had already seen the text of the ultimatum that had been presented. The demands were totally unacceptable, and were really just an excuse to declare war. They would be formally presented, and then formally rejected, and then Robert expected declarations of war would immediately follow. He moved back to his place just behind and to the right of Sapphira, waiting for her and the M'hael to formally open the audience. Edited by Robert Laurel, Feb 8 2009, 09:16 PM.
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Robert Laurel -- High King. Warder to Sapphira Cairen Aes Sedai, High Queen and Chancellor of the High Kingdom Robert's biography | |
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| Amore | Feb 8 2009, 08:13 PM Post #2 |
Head of the Blue Ajah
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Amore stood among women who were all Blue, but none would guess without prior knowledge that the Head of the Ajah stood watch today. The Hall would be called to declare war, and the Blue Sitters already knew their feelings and how they would vote. The gathering was beautiful, magnificent in its elaborate decorations and scores of people. The Amyrlin looked like a good spirit sitting upon her seat of power next to the M'hael. The men laced throughout the crowd drew Amore's eyes like pepper among the salt, each male channeler standing out to her mind. She did not know why, but everything felt complete, where something had been missing before the men had rejoined the Tower. The mood was excited, thousands of whispers turning into one giant buzz of the collected watchers. Rulers from kingdoms near to far were present, each with a full honor guard. Amore's eyes watched the Amadician party like a hawk. She knew how fanatical the Children had once been, she knew better than most, but why would they send there second to such a meeting? Obviously great care would be taken to choose who to come, but this was a rather bold move. A hush soon fell over the crowd, it appeared things were about to get started. Edited by Robert Laurel, Oct 27 2009, 02:22 PM.
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 Ward Weaving, Shield StretchingPower Strength 86 (Strong)Bonded to Gaidin Androus MordinMinister of Health and Education
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| Sapphira Calren | Feb 8 2009, 11:33 PM Post #3 |
High Queen & Chancellor
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In any other context, Sapphira would have thought the hall looked beautiful. Full of Aes Sedai and Asha'man proudly displaying the might of the Towers, with the backing of three powerful nations. Today, however, Sapphira would have prefered to be anywhere else. This was it. After this it would not be the far off war in the south, it would not be a distant headache to worry about. Today it would become their personal headache, and worse. It would become their war. The combined Towers had never been at war, the last official war in White Tower history was two hundred years ago- that was something most did not know about though. The secret histories were known to Sapphira and a select few others, but most of the world knew nothing about it. The last public war the White Tower had been involved in was the Aiel War, and even then, the only Aes Sedai involvement had been Healing. Granted, that was when there were still three Oaths, Aes Sedai could not have helped with the fighting without being in danger personally, or afraid that their Warder was. Now it was going to end. Oh, not right now, not here in this beautiful hall, but close enough. Sapphira resisted the urge to smooth her skirts and straighten her stole. She was nervous, and she did not want this to happen, she did not want the Towers to be at war. But she had to appear confident. She had to look as comfortable as if she were sitting down to tea in her own rooms. Light, the games she had to play. But play them she did, because she had no choice. She could step down and let someone else take over, but as far as she was concerned that was no choice at all. Right now, she trusted no one else to be in charge of the White Tower. Not that no one else was competent, simply that no one had the experience Sapphira did, no one knew her plans. No, Sapphira was absolutely certain that she was the right woman for the job right now, and although she wished she did not have to deal with everything that was going on, she would do it, and she would see the Towers through it. She and Reor would, anyway. Sapphira wondered how Reor felt just then, he had not been M'hael a very long time, and he had a lot on his plate very early in his reign. He had seemed calm and confident when Sapphira had spoken to him before, and he certainly appeared so now. Still, Sapphira was certain that beneath his cool exterior, he had to be feeling at least something of what Sapphira was. How would it look? Only weeks after beginning his reign, the Towers were going to officially declare war against nearly half of the Westlands. It would certainly be a footnote to his name, unless he managed something to overshadow it. That would have to be truly spectacular indeed, and Sapphira hoped that if Reor did pull that off it would be a good sort of spectacular. Robert stepped up beside her throne, pulling Sapphira back to the present. He said simply that he thought they were ready. Sapphira nodded slightly and he moved to stand just behind her. It was time. This would be a footnote on her reign too, no doubt. Sapphira had been Amyrlin a long time, but she had certainly not done anything this important, at least not on a worldwide scale. Apparently the audience was watching, as Robert moved back to his position, a hush fell over the room. There was no putting off any longer. She had to let the Whitecloak envoy in, she had to let him have his say, and she had to turn him down. But there was no changing it, she did have to do it. She glanced at Reor and very carefully did not take a deep breath. She had to be completely calm, and even a deep breath would give away her nerves. She nodded at the guard on the door directly across from the dais where she was seated. As the door opened Sapphira stood, and wished she were anywhere else in the world. Edited by Robert Laurel, Oct 27 2009, 02:24 PM.
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| Reor Rahidram | Feb 9 2009, 08:08 AM Post #4 |
M'hael
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War. So far the Black and the White Tower had not been involved, other than sending out hordes of mediators to try and settle things down. That had not worked, obviously, since today they would be at war. Reor had studied every option, and there was no other; the White and the Black Tower would be at war after this... spectical, this ridiculous meeting. These sort of things should be handled face to face, behind closed doors. But that would not do. The whole world needed to know. Reor looked slowly around. Aes Sedai and Asha'man dominated the crowds, but there were others, civilians even, citizens of Tar Valon. And the three rulers, Kings and Queens and their envoys. And Reor sat on a throne of all things, a great black one, in his best uniform, his chin closely shaven and his hair carefully combed. He sat with his back very straight and his face calm and smooth, but the whole situation fought against his nature. He should not be up there on the throne, he should be down there, in plain yet official clothes, chatting to people he knew, getting to know people he didn't, trying to get into the feel of the crowd. That was where he had belonged all his life as an Asha'man. Now he belonged to the throne. He looked the part, at least. And he would keep on looking the part. He hoped that one day he would feel as confident and as comfortable as he looked. And he hoped that that day would come soon. But for now, he needed to act. A lot of eyes were on him, and the Asha'man relied on him for decisions. The Amyrlin relied on him for decision. The decision they would make today for the Black and the White Tower would affect the whole world, and he needed to do it. The responsibility was enormous, but he did not feel burdened by it. It was an opportunity, a chance to show what he was worth, even though the topic was far from joyous. He would make the decision, leap at the opportunity and survive the best he could and hopefully he would come out successful. He was rather... excited. It was the situation, the setting that made him feel down. Robert moved close to Sapphira. The Amyrlin nodded to him and he moved back to his position. Sapphira looked at him, calm and in control. Reor looked back, his face as level as hers. He knew that Sapphira could not be as calm as she looked, decades as the Amyrlin or not. But this was no time for emotions. This was time for leadership, for stern decisions. Sapphira nodded to the guard to let the others in. Soon it would begin. |
 Talents: Travelling, Spinning Earthfire, Inverting Weaves Artwork by M.Luisa Giliberti. | |
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| Farina Aileen | Feb 9 2009, 08:49 AM Post #5 |
Aes Sedai of the Green Ajah, Lost during the War
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Farina wrapped the shawl with the green fringes tightly around her shoulders. This was an official affair, so she did not stand out wearing the shawl even though she was not a new Aes Sedai anymore. Three years as an Aes Sedai, and already it was time for action. It was time for War. Time for the Green Ajah. Farina looked coldly at a woman who pushed against her in the crowd. The Gaidar nodded apologetically and moved a bit further. Farina kept on looking at her for a while before turning to look at the Amyrlin and M'hael again. It was time for war, and Farina was not bonded yet. She had a candidate on her mind, but he was not yet raised to Youngling. As soon as he was, she would bond him, that was for sure. But it did not hurt to look for other candidates as well. She did not rule out a woman as a Warder, even though she was actually more comfortable with men. Farina focused on the present. The M'hael and the Amyrlin both looked calm and comfortable, despite the situation, despite the consequences of today. Farina was not too well aware of all the details; being the second youngest and the weakest Aes Sedai of the Green Ajah meant a little bit of extra work to be told things, to be let in with the secrets. But she knew that it was the Green Ajah's opinion that today war would touch the White Tower. And Farina wanted to be there to witness it. The buzz of conversation quickly withered and finally it was almost quiet. Farina noticed how the Amyrlin nodded to the guards and she quickly turned to stare at the great big doors that were slowly opening. |
 Talents: Cloud Dancing, Healing, Keeping Deceased during the War Avatar artwork © Lee Bogle | |
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| Androus Mordin | Feb 10 2009, 07:33 PM Post #6 |
Gaidin
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Androus and the rest of the Warders were all on high alert. Although the Tower Guard may be on duty, it did not stop the constant sweeps of the crowd by the Warders. Men and women alike moved through the cround like shadows among the multitudes. Androus was not one of the patrolers, he had a special purpose, unassigned and unexpected of him. He watched from nearly forty feet away, ensuring her safety. He had been with her nearly three weeks now, and was falling for the woman more than just as a potential Bond holder. She was the first thought he had in the morning, even before he mentally went through and ensured himself that his rooms were cleared. And worse, he fell asleep to her smile, her warmth filling his mind. He knew the answer which he would give her when in five weeks time she would require it. He was falling in love with a woman who was more than six times his age, and yet, it did not seem odd in the least to him. There was something deep in his being that made him feel older, as if he had walked this world before, and he found his missing pieces in her, down to the twinkle of intelligence in her eyes when she smiled at him to reveal a hidden plan. Over the three short yet long seeming weeks since they had been together Androus had watched Amore lay plan after plan, most if the time to no one elses knowledge. She was brilliant, with a finesse unmatched by any woman he had ever met. And yet, the manipulations, the bullying; it was never out of sheer ability to do so, never unwanted for the outcome she sought, and whenever possible, she was her warm personable self. Yes, she was everything he expected of a woman he would marry, and that was the same for his bond holder. Noticing movement on the dais, Androus waited for the decisions to begin so that things could be about business. Still, his gaze flickered to the beautiful woman surrounded by women whom he barely noticed. |
 Bonded to Amore Sedai +Quarter Staff +Martail Arts +Piano +The Great Game
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| Sarecer | Feb 11 2009, 07:29 PM Post #7 |
Rei al'Aman Val
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Sarecer stood a little behind and to the right of the M'heal. He was dressed in his finest silk uniform, the colours of his shen and rank proudly displayed upon it. His pins both the silver sword, and golden dragon shone with a shine that could only have been gotten through use of the one power. He stood proudly knowing that his shen would soon be called into action he had prepared for this day his shen was once again full of proud warriors and diplomats. Sarecer was authority incarnate, what Reor achieved because of his title, Sarecer got through age and legend. War was a bloody affair and one he knew all too well he had been battling the shadow in a never ending war for over two-hundred years he had shed more life than any he knew of. The blood on his hands were shadow spawn and worshipers of the Dark One, unless he was attacked he was proud to believe he had not killed an innocent, but this war he knew was going to be fought by innocent men, farmers and craftsmen who knew not the honour of a true soldier. There would be soldiers in it the vanguard of either army but the nations of the westlands had called upon their peoples to rise against each other. He stood silently his face stern, he was proud to be apart of this but he did not look forward to the bloodshed. He knew many of his men who had not seen the face of battle could not wait to put themselves in the midst, he knew both Towers would loose men and women in numbers they had not seen since Tarmon Gaidon. Sarecer turned his head to gaze out at those assembled and paused longest on the White Cloak, disdain filled him. He wished that he could rid the world of their vileness they had grown to powerful and the balls of the Lord Caption Commander must have been large to send his second to Tar Valon "City of Witches." He would keep an eye on him through the rest of his. The crowd went silent and he turned to watch. |
 Talents: Spinning Earthfire, Blossom of Fire, Foretelling (sporadic) | |
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| Robert Laurel | Feb 11 2009, 11:23 PM Post #8 |
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High King
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At Sapphira's nod the massive doors opened, revealing the envoys. There was a collective hiss when the crowd saw the Whitecloak uniform. But there weren't the hoots and catcalls and insults that Robert had almost expected. This was too solemn an affair, and the crowd felt the mood. The men climbed the stairs. The Whitecloak looked around him disdainfully. He looks mighty confident for someone who's in the middle of a crowd of thousands who hate his guts, Robert thought. He did have to admire the man's courage, though. No doubt he thinks that the next time he comes here it will be as a conqueror. Robert could see the hands of the honor guard turning white as they tightened their grips in anger at the Whitecloak's attitude. The five halted and bowed to the assembled rulers before them. Sapphira regarded them impassively, waiting for them to present their demands. The Illian ambassador brought out a long sheet of parchment, upon which the southern demands were laid out. "These are our terms. Rejection of one means rejection of all." His leaving off the honorifics brought angry murmurs from the gathered crowd. Robert surreptiously made a sign to the honor guard commander; he did not want a riot and possible death of the envoys, no matter how deserved it might be. It would not do at all to start off a conflict with a gross violation of the law of nations. The man started to read. The murmurs of anger grew louder and louder as he read out his ultimatum. The terms were impossible to accept. Not and let the City keep any shred of independence. "And finally," he concluded, "an absolutely non-negotiable term is that Tar Valon shall turn over for judgment to the Children of the Light the war criminal and murderer Robert Laurel and his family." Robert saw Sapphira's nostrils flare with anger at that, the only sign of emotion she had shown throughout this entire absurdity. Robert stepped forward. "If you want my head, Stephan of Alcantara, then you have to come and take it. I suggest that you remind the present Lord Captain Commander as to how he got into his office." Robert had killed his predecessor in single combat in the final battle of the Altara campaign, the battle that had put paid to the Whitecloaks hope of absorbing that kingdom. He stepped back, waiting for the Amyrlin and M'hael to formally reply to the terms. Edited by Robert Laurel, Feb 26 2009, 11:50 PM.
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Robert Laurel -- High King. Warder to Sapphira Cairen Aes Sedai, High Queen and Chancellor of the High Kingdom Robert's biography | |
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| Amore | Feb 12 2009, 09:17 AM Post #9 |
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Head of the Blue Ajah
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The gates at the far end of the gathering seemed to open in slow motion. Envoys, many more than she had originally thought, walked with the Children. Illian's man standing in the front of the ridiculous procession held a rolled up parchment which Amore would have given a great deal to know who had written. Perhaps not the hand which took the notes, but the one who pulled the strings, the man not present although so many of his so called allies were. The lack of respect from the men, here in the place all Aes Sedai found power, stirred a deep anger in the older Blue Sister. Her eyes were absolutely ablaze, and as he read his demands, Amore placed herself on the brink of embracing the source. Her anger was such, that she could only stand on that hair's width step for so long before forgetting about channeling and instead turning to motion Androus over. She had seen him some time shortly after she had arrived, he had gotten much closer with the arrival of this excuse of diplomacy. He was next to her, in between her and one of the Sitters, and the woman looked not best pleased already, she turned to give a good lashing to the man, only to see his face, bite her tongue, and return her angry stare back to the party. Androus wasn't her's yet, but among her Ajah he was as good as promised. Amore would have to soften some of his edges, but any way you looked at it she was working with above average materials. The anger inside of her seemed to lessen in his presence, her mind absorbing him calming effect. Amore's voice was low, for the crowd was silent, but the Blue women around her could hear if barely. "This will never work, they know. Hold your tongues until we return to the Hall." It would do no good to let the citizenry see how irate the Sister's were. When the man called out the Master of Arm's Amore stiffened. While he was not her favorite person, he still seemed as much a part of the Tower as the walls themselves. Some of the other people around her did not or could not hold their angry cries, and she understood the feeling. This was war, and these men who just entered came knowing it would be this way. Amore wanted very badly to see each member of the envoy die a hideously long death. In the back of her mind she was loosing a small grip on herself. There was an orphanage in Illian, another in Altara. When these men found out, as surely the Whitecloak spies would soon learn of the Tower funded project which Amore had so carefully hidden, what would they do? Destroy the building surely, but what of the women who worked there, her staff and friends? What of the children? Cold dread found its way to the pit of her belly, where it slowly began to grow. |
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Ward Weaving, Shield StretchingPower Strength 86 (Strong)Bonded to Gaidin Androus MordinMinister of Health and Education
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| Reor Rahidram | Feb 13 2009, 08:01 AM Post #10 |
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M'hael
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The doors opened and the envoys walked in. The Whitecloak uniform sent ripples of angry murmurs and hisses through the crowd. His sour expression did nothing to help the mood of the crowd. A Whitecloak in a room full of Aes Sedai and Asha'man and he did not have the courtesy to show a single sign of respect. No one was channeling, but each and every Aes Sedai and Asha'man could kill the man in an instant, not to mention Robert's men and women who were working as guards for tonight. But the Whitecloak looked around, disdain obvious from his face. Did he not realize that his life was in danger? There was no reason to make it any worse. Reor did not appreciate his mentality. Well, it was nothing he had not expected. This whole affair was useless, just insult upon insult until war was officially declared, nothing more. The Illianer ambassador opened the roll of parchment that held their demands and started reading it in a loud and clear voice. Reor listened to them closely, but they held nothing he had not expected. Each term was an impossibility, an insult, and meant to be nothing else. Everyone knew it and he noticed a lot of faces in the crowd rolling their eyes and whispering to their neighbours. Reor did not move, his expression did not change. But he let his eyes fall on the Illianer. Reor had concidered himself an Illianer maybe... sixty years ago. After that he had been an Asha'man, and now M'hael. But he still felt the tiniest sting when he considered the fact that soon the Black Tower would be at war against Illian. He suppressed it quickly. The last demand was actually a bit of a surprise. He had not realized that they would get so... personal. Of course the Towers could not even consider giving up their Haran al'Tari and his family to the Whitecloaks. He wondered if they would demand for other members of the Towers to be delivered to them. No other demands came. Robert retaliated, speaking out of turn but he had a right. All eyes turned to the thrones, to him and Sapphira. Reor stood up, his back rigid, his face immobile. He did not look at Sapphira, he did not glance at the Reis for comfirmation, there was only one possible answer. "The Black Tower finds your terms unacceptable." |
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Talents: Travelling, Spinning Earthfire, Inverting Weaves Artwork by M.Luisa Giliberti. | |
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| Gwen Laurel | Apr 19 2009, 11:14 AM Post #11 |
Heir-Presumptive to the High Kingdom
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Gwen watched intently from where she stodd atop the dais, behind the rulers and their commanders. The ultimatum was nothing new, she had been present when Robert had received a copy and had listened to his caustic comments. She had been surprised at the part which had called for her father and all his family to be handed over. Forget nothng and learn nothing seems to be their motto, her aunt had commented. Aunt Erin had gotten back just a couple of nights before, her and her party riding in to the City with some prisoners who were tied to their saddles, hooded and cloaked. They were in the Guard's dungeons now, awaiting trial. Her aunt hadn't said a word about it, not even to her own brother. She saw her aunt motion over a guard officer. "Make sure that their embassies are completely empty and that every person from their parties are down by the Southharbor. Have guardsmen outside the doors escort them immediately to their ship. I want them out of the City as soon as this farce is finished. Send them down to Aringill and they become Morgause's problem" There was a real danger that the delegation would be assaulted by an angry crowd on their way down to their ship. Gwen listened to her father's challenge, and then heard Reor's rejection of the ultimatum. Now she waited for the Amyrlin to speak. Edited by Robert Laurel, Oct 27 2009, 02:29 PM.
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Gwen Laurel Heir-Presumptive to the High Kingdom Gwen's biography | |
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| Erin Laurel | Apr 23 2009, 07:43 PM Post #12 |
Princess Regent of Cairhien
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Erin stood a few feet behind her brother and the Amyrlin, watching and listening and taking in everything. She had only gotten back just a few short days before, her and her party of scouts and asha'man, who had brought in those responsible for Kiren Thyme's assassination. Well, most of them, anyway. She was sure that the real ringleaders, the movers and shakers behind it all, had gotten away. But they had gotten the actual ones who had performed the deed, and the questioners of the Guard and of the White Tower were very, very efficient. She had done things that she had never imagined that she would ever do. They were things that she didn't walk to talk about. She would have to, some of them anyway, at the trial coming up. But there were other things, dark things, that she would keep in her heart for a very long time. She turned her head slightly to the right and studied the teenage girl next to her. Nathalie, the Daughter-Heir of Andor. She looked to be only sixteen. Her eyes were darting back-and-forth, taking in everything, missing nothing. She was tall, with long black hair, and a slim build, and was wearing a suit of light chain along with a sword. Apparently Morgause had decided that since her daughter had failed the test for the Tower, that she would have to defend herself with steel. Channelling was like that; sometimes it skipped generations. Morgause herself was an Aes Sedai of the Blue Ajah. Nathalie caught her eye and nodded at her once. She had been well briefed, then, one the way things were her in the City. It would be interesting to see how she would react at the meetings that would follow. Edited by Robert Laurel, Oct 27 2009, 02:19 PM.
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Erin Laurel Duchess of Laurel and Princess Regent of Cairhien Erin's biography | |
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| Nyere Sieten | Oct 27 2009, 02:46 AM Post #13 |
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Aes Sedai of the Yellow Ajah
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Nyere stood, her raven black hair swaying slightly as the odd breeze drifted into the hall and stirred her dress, if only for a bit. Her storm grey eyes hovered on the main double doors. Her pale face was lifted upright, and her gaze stony hard. She stood with her fellow Yellow Sisters, her long yellow silk shawl drifted down on both sides of her body to her waist, sometimes merging with her blazing yellow dress. Sisters of every Ajah, grouped according to each Ajah, stood on one side of the Hallway, and Asha'man of every Rei, grouped according to Rei, stood on the other side. The rulers of the Alliance of Four were on the dais, sitting just below the Mother and Father of the Towers, Sapphira and Reor. Nyere's eyes burned as the double doors opened. The Golden Alliance had been causing most of the trouble in the Lands, especially the Whitecloaks. They had been manipulating the troubles that had been happening in the world relatively subtlely before. But now, the Amadican ambassador had been changed to the second-in-command of the Whitecloaks. A sign that the Whitecloaks had been ready to step open. The city had nearly broken out in riots when that happened, and although Nyere wouldn't have minded seeing the whole embassy going up in flames, there was national politics still to consider. She didn't really need to read whatever the idiots in the southwest had written to know the outcome. The Hall would declare war, and chaos would result. Nyere had a mind to fling open the double doors and seize the parchment, and rip it to bits. But she couldn't, because then she would be the cause of the war, and she would be blamed for the Towers troubles, and that would not be pretty. But it might be better if she did anyway. But she was an Aes Sedai, and being an Aes Sedai meant having self control, and she exerted it now, with all the mental strength she possessed, from embracing Saidar, breaking the doors open, and incinerating the parchment to pieces. As the double doors opened, Nyere gritted her teeth as the Illian ambassador, a whitecloak, walked up as though he owned the place. She looked right at him, eyes burning, and when he surveyed the hall, his eyes finally came to rest on hers. He met her intense gaze, burning like white fire, shining bright, and he blinked, and looked unnerved for a second. Then, regained his composure as he remembered his position, and read out. "These are our terms. Rejection of one means rejection of all." The man started to read. The murmurs of anger grew louder and louder as he read out his ultimatum. The terms were impossible to accept. Not and let the City keep any shred of independence. "And finally," he concluded, "an absolutely non-negotiable term is that Tar Valon shall turn over for judgment to the Children of the Light the war criminal and murderer Robert Laurel and his family." The hall almost broke up in an uproar as citizens, Aes Sedai and Asha'ma alike raised their voices in anger at the unjust terms, as they should. Nyere was silent. How dare they strip the dignity and grandeur of Aes Sedai? How dare they insinuate that they must submit to the Children of Light? To what end. How dare they ... these ... creatures come even into the hall. She nearly embraced Saidar and dealt with him there and then. "The Black Tower finds your terms unacceptable." Nyere nodded with savage anger. This would mean war. She almost laughed out loud. A war with channelers? To what end? How could normal man stand against the might of the White Tower and the Black Towers? Against channelers? Nyere hoped the ambassador would be around to see the defeat of his army, then Nyere could deal with him personally. |
 AoL Healing Strength: 92, Air: 8, Water: 8, Spirit: 10, Earth: 7, Fire: 7 Heart, Mind, Body and Soul | |
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| Salima Tyhar | Oct 27 2009, 03:18 AM Post #14 |
Aes Sedai of the Green Ajah
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Salima's eyes blazed with suppressed rage at the way the Whitecloak held himself. He did not have an air of authority about him that would have made anybody respect him. On the other hand, he was a weasel of a man, and his sly face made him all the more unattractive. She could think of several different names to call him, all worse than the last. However, that was not the way to behave when you had Novices clustered around you, all solemn, quiet, or glaring at the ambassador, especially those from Andor, Cairhein, Tear and Murandy. Some of them were actually quite straight-laced, and what Salima would have said would have fainted some of the more delicate ones. Salima glanced around. Her fellow green sisters stood clustered together. Farina, a young sister, weak in the Power, but with a sharp mind and blazing will that needed to be tempered and mouldered down somewhat, especially considering her standing. Not far off, Amore, a legend among Blues was looking expectent, like many others. Everybody knew what to expect from this. Even the lowest Novice. Rumours had been going around the novice quarters about what the ambassador was going to say. But the gist of it was was that the novices were confident that the terms were not going to be favourable. However, Salima had quelled these rumors and had sent the novices around to chores and work quite soon. She was a surrogate Mistress of Novices, and had been one before, and had never given up on doing it. Salima was still sought after for advice sometimes, and she liked it. She held a respected status in the Tower, and her age was the subject of much discussion among Novices and even Accepted, who should have known better. But whatever status she held was forgotten as the ambassador took his place and started reading out the terms and conditions. Salima's wrath blazed with every word, and feeling the change about her, the Novices and Accepted drew back from her, until there was a respecful circle around her. She tore her gaze away from this horrid man, who knew nothing and could do nothing except bluster and threaten. Close by, stood Nyere, whose eyes were shining with suppressed rage, even greater than her own. Salima marveled inwardly at her friend's self control over her temper. If she had been that angry, Salima would have done something, despite years of practice. And among the Black Tower and civilians, consternation reigned, and Salima could see some fists shaken and eyes rolled. But all was quiet when Reor, the M'Hael stood up, and spoke the words. "The Black Towers not accept your terms." Salima smiled savagely. It was war, a war that the Golden alliance, the poor deluded fools, would lose. |
 Cloud Dancing, Wave Dancing, Listening to the Wind Strength: 76, Air: 10, Water: 10, Spirit: 8, Earth: 5, Fire: 5 The Power of the Wind and the Wave is as great as that as the Hurricane | |
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| Robert Laurel | Nov 2 2009, 11:11 PM Post #15 |
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High King
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This would be a good topic to revive as a retro... |
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Robert Laurel -- High King. Warder to Sapphira Cairen Aes Sedai, High Queen and Chancellor of the High Kingdom Robert's biography | |
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7:39 PM Nov 26
