Power and Anarchy
By Gahzskul Thruka
[Author's Note] You'll have to excuse any errors on continuity between eh prologue and the following chapters, as it's been several years between he prologue and this
point. Thanks.
Chapter One
The wind blew hard from the west, which only aided the ships as they sailed the Aryth Ocean. Ships which would bear they cargo of soldiers and horsemen and weapons across the sea to the lands beyond, and to glory. Colonel Farran al'Terr stood at the bow of the Riptide, the fleet's flag- ship, as the large warship's heavy bow cut the waves and led the advancing fleet. His armor and weapon lay in his cabin, on his bunk. He had no use for them on the ship. Their time would come upon reaching their destination. Indeed, then they would have a great deal of use. For now, though, al'Terr was contented with standing leaning on the rail at the bow, breathing in the clear salty air and feeling the spray of the ocean on his face.
Farran Al'Terr wasn't much for luxuries. He stood taller than most men, and had tanned skin from many seasons working in the sun. He had a thin, lithe build and a stalking way of moving. He kept his dark brown hair shoulder-length, and often kept it in many little braids. He kept clean- shaven, except for a small bit of hair below his lower lip, which he kept short. His eyes marked his as a hard man. Their piercing green stare only added to the commanding presence he held. His clothes were simple, just as they always were. Plain black breeches with leather reinforcing places that would normally be worn-down by riding on a horse, and a plain brown leather vest. His boots were sturdy leather and rose to his knees. He wore no gold or lace, and liked it that way. Let the nobles wear what they wanted. He was a soldier. And for the moment he was relaxed and at peace, a rare occurrence most days.
His relaxation was interrupted when a female's voice was heard clearing her throat behind him. He cursed silently, and turned to see the Lady Milanna. Milanna was no a beautiful women. She was not even pretty. She was rather ugly, in fact, and Farran despised the noble woman's love for lace, jewelry, and above all else, him. She was constantly hounding him to come to her chambers, or more recently, her cabin, as even she was forced to make due with the ship's non-too-spacious quarters. And now she was at it again. Damn her. Though Farran. He was stopped thinking further when he realized she was speaking to him. Even her voice was ugly, a rather nasty grating sound rather than a real voice. "...so I could not help but notice you standing here all alone. Lord Pumperny suggest I come keep you company..." she lied, "... and so here I am, come to rescue you from utter boredom!" She beamed at him.
Come to ruin any chance of peace and quiet more like...thought Farran, though he bowed his head to the Lady and spoke respectfully. "How kind it is for the Lady to concern herself with an honest soldier like myself, but I could not forgive myself for infringing on the Lady's direly busy schedule, and so I will take my leave and go and inspect the men. Good day, M'lady..."
With that, Farran quickly straightened and left, leaving Lady Milanna flapping her mouth at his proper yet overly-quick departure. Yes... time to inspect the men. Inspection was a daily routine that Farran refused to fix a time to, otherwise the men could become fixed to it, and only fix themselves up when they knew they needed to. A randomly timed inspection every day also allowed him to escape should Lady Milanna corner him, as she had moments ago.
In the hall of the Children of the Light, now fouled by the smell of hundreds of dead bodies of slaughtered soldiers, mixed with the stench of Trollocs, Shaidar Bekkar stood with a dozen Gray Men. The Myrddraal stood taller than his kind usually did, and has a different feel to him. He did not simply cause fear with his gaze. He caused utter terror and panic. Suddenly the room dimmed, and then the doors at the far end of the Hall burst open, admitting another Myrddraal, also taller than most. This one, however, was no Myrddraal at all. This was Shaidar Haran, the Hand of the Shadow. The avatar of the Dark One on this world. Now he was here. Several of the Chosen followed behind him, all keeping their eyes down meekly. Shaidar Bekkar bowed his head, then straightened and indicated the Gray Men standing around him. "All the gray men in the Fortress of Light are ready for your command. The Fades are outside readying the Trollocs to move to the ways." Reported Shaidar Bekkar. No Lord or any sort of formality. Just a simple report. Then Shaidar Bekkar bowed his head and left the Hall. The Chosen present gawked at the floor at the large Myrddraal's insolence, which went unpunished. Then Shaidar Haran turned and addressed the Gray Men, telling them of their task.
Teron Adell cursed and glowered at the Aes Sedai through his room's window on the second floor. And kicked the small table next to him. Then strode quickly across the room, and sat on his bed, pulling on his boots. He wore black breeches and a black shirt. On the chair by the table he had kicked hung his coat, also black. His other coat, which he would usually rather wear, was in his bag, and bore the sword and dragon pins marking him an Asha'man. A Man who could channel. And now two bloody Aes Sedai were outside the tavern, walking towards the door. Blood and Bloody Ashes. Teron quickly buckled on his coat and sword-belt, then stomped his feet to get the boots more comfortable before closing his saddlebags and walking from his room. He donned his cloak as he moved to the stairs, then put the hood up. He slung his saddlebags over his shoulder and walked down the stairs, hoping to slip past the Aes Sedai unnoticed. He passed the two Aes Sedai in the Inn's common room, and headed straight for the door. He was maybe two paces away, when a voice stopped him. "Teron! Weren't you even going to say good-bye?" Lari. Fool girl just made him the center of attention. Everyone in the common room, patrons, bartender, serving girls, and the bloody Aes Sedai all looked at him. Burn them all. Teron turned and grabbed the girl's arm, and quickly dragged her out the door with him. "Teron! That hurts! Stop it!" "Shush... listen, I need to leave quickly. I've no time for a long good-bye. Those Aes Sedai make me nervous, I..." "You should learn not to speak poorly of sisters..." Teron froze and uttered an oath under his breath, then turned and faced the two Aes Sedai, who had evidently followed him out thinking he meant harm to Lari. Burn the girl, too. "Sorry, Aes Sedai, but I wish to be off in a hurry, and I never really liked the idea of people channeling's all... not natural, is it?" "It's perfectly natural." Said the same sister who had spoken before. She stood on Teron's left. She was tall for a woman, though was perhaps two hands shorter than Teron, who stood maybe 6'1". She had the usual ageless face of Aes Sedai, though even her ageless face was more beautiful than most girls Teron had seen. She had dark hair hanging down her back to her waist, done in a thick braid, and deep pool-like brown eyes and fair skin. She was slender, and had a very nice figure. Teron found himself staring at her eyes, almost wishing to drown in them. He blinked himself back to reality. The other Aes Sedai was shorter then the pretty one, and her Ageless face was rather ordinary, much like many farm-girls Teron had met. She was somewhat stocky as well, though she had as much a commanding presence as her companion. Her hair was short and blonde, her face tanned and her eyes a blue so piercing it seemed as though it would be able to drive a nail through your skull. The stocky sister moved to Teron's right. Out of the corner of his eye Teron say a warder's cloak swirl as the man moved closer to the stocky Aes Sedai. He noticed that the tall slender sister had green embroidery to her skirts, while the stocky one had blue. Yet he saw only the one warder, which moved by the stocky sister. A green with no warders present? Teron knew a fair bit about the tower, as his sister was an accepted there, and wrote regularly, and he knew it irregular that a green only had one warder, let alone none. Maybe he just couldn't see them. "As you say, Aes Sedai," said Teron, bowing his head slightly, "but I must be off." "And were is it so important for you to be?" inquired the stocky blue sister. Her warder now fingered the hilt of his sword. Bloody fool girl, this was all Lari's fault. Teron cleared his throat before speaking. A nervous lump was forming in his throat, and he did not want to croak when he spoke. "I'm expected at my brother's manor, in Arafelle, next week, Aes Sedai. He is to be married, and I am his best man. I would not wish to be late." "I'm sure." Said the blue sister. The green sister was eyeing him strangely. He cursed to himself. "We are also to Arafelle. Perhaps you would wish to accompany us?" suggested the green sister. Bloody flaming... "An excellent idea, what with this talk of the Black Tower and Aiel and Dragonsworn about. One can never be too careful. Will you join us?" asked the blue sister. Teron nearly screamed. But who was he to decline. They might get suspicious. They might be already. "Of course, Aes Sedai, it would be my pleasure." "You can't call us Aes Sedai the whole way. I am Kura Sedai," said the blue sister, "and this is Leslin Sedai." "I am Teron Adell, pleasure to serve, Kura Sedai." "Excellent. We'll be leaving tomorrow morning, so you might as well take your bags back inside." Said Leslin. Teron took his things back in, paid the Innkeeper for another night, and put his things in his room. And cursed profusely when that fool girl Lari came bounding in, babbling on about him dancing tonight. Yes, Teron could have cried.
By Gahzskul Thruka
[Author's Note] You'll have to excuse any errors on continuity between eh prologue and the following chapters, as it's been several years between he prologue and this
point. Thanks.
Chapter One
The wind blew hard from the west, which only aided the ships as they sailed the Aryth Ocean. Ships which would bear they cargo of soldiers and horsemen and weapons across the sea to the lands beyond, and to glory. Colonel Farran al'Terr stood at the bow of the Riptide, the fleet's flag- ship, as the large warship's heavy bow cut the waves and led the advancing fleet. His armor and weapon lay in his cabin, on his bunk. He had no use for them on the ship. Their time would come upon reaching their destination. Indeed, then they would have a great deal of use. For now, though, al'Terr was contented with standing leaning on the rail at the bow, breathing in the clear salty air and feeling the spray of the ocean on his face.
Farran Al'Terr wasn't much for luxuries. He stood taller than most men, and had tanned skin from many seasons working in the sun. He had a thin, lithe build and a stalking way of moving. He kept his dark brown hair shoulder-length, and often kept it in many little braids. He kept clean- shaven, except for a small bit of hair below his lower lip, which he kept short. His eyes marked his as a hard man. Their piercing green stare only added to the commanding presence he held. His clothes were simple, just as they always were. Plain black breeches with leather reinforcing places that would normally be worn-down by riding on a horse, and a plain brown leather vest. His boots were sturdy leather and rose to his knees. He wore no gold or lace, and liked it that way. Let the nobles wear what they wanted. He was a soldier. And for the moment he was relaxed and at peace, a rare occurrence most days.
His relaxation was interrupted when a female's voice was heard clearing her throat behind him. He cursed silently, and turned to see the Lady Milanna. Milanna was no a beautiful women. She was not even pretty. She was rather ugly, in fact, and Farran despised the noble woman's love for lace, jewelry, and above all else, him. She was constantly hounding him to come to her chambers, or more recently, her cabin, as even she was forced to make due with the ship's non-too-spacious quarters. And now she was at it again. Damn her. Though Farran. He was stopped thinking further when he realized she was speaking to him. Even her voice was ugly, a rather nasty grating sound rather than a real voice. "...so I could not help but notice you standing here all alone. Lord Pumperny suggest I come keep you company..." she lied, "... and so here I am, come to rescue you from utter boredom!" She beamed at him.
Come to ruin any chance of peace and quiet more like...thought Farran, though he bowed his head to the Lady and spoke respectfully. "How kind it is for the Lady to concern herself with an honest soldier like myself, but I could not forgive myself for infringing on the Lady's direly busy schedule, and so I will take my leave and go and inspect the men. Good day, M'lady..."
With that, Farran quickly straightened and left, leaving Lady Milanna flapping her mouth at his proper yet overly-quick departure. Yes... time to inspect the men. Inspection was a daily routine that Farran refused to fix a time to, otherwise the men could become fixed to it, and only fix themselves up when they knew they needed to. A randomly timed inspection every day also allowed him to escape should Lady Milanna corner him, as she had moments ago.
In the hall of the Children of the Light, now fouled by the smell of hundreds of dead bodies of slaughtered soldiers, mixed with the stench of Trollocs, Shaidar Bekkar stood with a dozen Gray Men. The Myrddraal stood taller than his kind usually did, and has a different feel to him. He did not simply cause fear with his gaze. He caused utter terror and panic. Suddenly the room dimmed, and then the doors at the far end of the Hall burst open, admitting another Myrddraal, also taller than most. This one, however, was no Myrddraal at all. This was Shaidar Haran, the Hand of the Shadow. The avatar of the Dark One on this world. Now he was here. Several of the Chosen followed behind him, all keeping their eyes down meekly. Shaidar Bekkar bowed his head, then straightened and indicated the Gray Men standing around him. "All the gray men in the Fortress of Light are ready for your command. The Fades are outside readying the Trollocs to move to the ways." Reported Shaidar Bekkar. No Lord or any sort of formality. Just a simple report. Then Shaidar Bekkar bowed his head and left the Hall. The Chosen present gawked at the floor at the large Myrddraal's insolence, which went unpunished. Then Shaidar Haran turned and addressed the Gray Men, telling them of their task.
Teron Adell cursed and glowered at the Aes Sedai through his room's window on the second floor. And kicked the small table next to him. Then strode quickly across the room, and sat on his bed, pulling on his boots. He wore black breeches and a black shirt. On the chair by the table he had kicked hung his coat, also black. His other coat, which he would usually rather wear, was in his bag, and bore the sword and dragon pins marking him an Asha'man. A Man who could channel. And now two bloody Aes Sedai were outside the tavern, walking towards the door. Blood and Bloody Ashes. Teron quickly buckled on his coat and sword-belt, then stomped his feet to get the boots more comfortable before closing his saddlebags and walking from his room. He donned his cloak as he moved to the stairs, then put the hood up. He slung his saddlebags over his shoulder and walked down the stairs, hoping to slip past the Aes Sedai unnoticed. He passed the two Aes Sedai in the Inn's common room, and headed straight for the door. He was maybe two paces away, when a voice stopped him. "Teron! Weren't you even going to say good-bye?" Lari. Fool girl just made him the center of attention. Everyone in the common room, patrons, bartender, serving girls, and the bloody Aes Sedai all looked at him. Burn them all. Teron turned and grabbed the girl's arm, and quickly dragged her out the door with him. "Teron! That hurts! Stop it!" "Shush... listen, I need to leave quickly. I've no time for a long good-bye. Those Aes Sedai make me nervous, I..." "You should learn not to speak poorly of sisters..." Teron froze and uttered an oath under his breath, then turned and faced the two Aes Sedai, who had evidently followed him out thinking he meant harm to Lari. Burn the girl, too. "Sorry, Aes Sedai, but I wish to be off in a hurry, and I never really liked the idea of people channeling's all... not natural, is it?" "It's perfectly natural." Said the same sister who had spoken before. She stood on Teron's left. She was tall for a woman, though was perhaps two hands shorter than Teron, who stood maybe 6'1". She had the usual ageless face of Aes Sedai, though even her ageless face was more beautiful than most girls Teron had seen. She had dark hair hanging down her back to her waist, done in a thick braid, and deep pool-like brown eyes and fair skin. She was slender, and had a very nice figure. Teron found himself staring at her eyes, almost wishing to drown in them. He blinked himself back to reality. The other Aes Sedai was shorter then the pretty one, and her Ageless face was rather ordinary, much like many farm-girls Teron had met. She was somewhat stocky as well, though she had as much a commanding presence as her companion. Her hair was short and blonde, her face tanned and her eyes a blue so piercing it seemed as though it would be able to drive a nail through your skull. The stocky sister moved to Teron's right. Out of the corner of his eye Teron say a warder's cloak swirl as the man moved closer to the stocky Aes Sedai. He noticed that the tall slender sister had green embroidery to her skirts, while the stocky one had blue. Yet he saw only the one warder, which moved by the stocky sister. A green with no warders present? Teron knew a fair bit about the tower, as his sister was an accepted there, and wrote regularly, and he knew it irregular that a green only had one warder, let alone none. Maybe he just couldn't see them. "As you say, Aes Sedai," said Teron, bowing his head slightly, "but I must be off." "And were is it so important for you to be?" inquired the stocky blue sister. Her warder now fingered the hilt of his sword. Bloody fool girl, this was all Lari's fault. Teron cleared his throat before speaking. A nervous lump was forming in his throat, and he did not want to croak when he spoke. "I'm expected at my brother's manor, in Arafelle, next week, Aes Sedai. He is to be married, and I am his best man. I would not wish to be late." "I'm sure." Said the blue sister. The green sister was eyeing him strangely. He cursed to himself. "We are also to Arafelle. Perhaps you would wish to accompany us?" suggested the green sister. Bloody flaming... "An excellent idea, what with this talk of the Black Tower and Aiel and Dragonsworn about. One can never be too careful. Will you join us?" asked the blue sister. Teron nearly screamed. But who was he to decline. They might get suspicious. They might be already. "Of course, Aes Sedai, it would be my pleasure." "You can't call us Aes Sedai the whole way. I am Kura Sedai," said the blue sister, "and this is Leslin Sedai." "I am Teron Adell, pleasure to serve, Kura Sedai." "Excellent. We'll be leaving tomorrow morning, so you might as well take your bags back inside." Said Leslin. Teron took his things back in, paid the Innkeeper for another night, and put his things in his room. And cursed profusely when that fool girl Lari came bounding in, babbling on about him dancing tonight. Yes, Teron could have cried.