Not far outside Caemlyn...
"I'll give you the chance to yield, sonny." Isam's cruel grin flashed across his face as he effortlessly spun the midnight blade ever faster. Dashiva's face was beet-red with the concentration of holding off the blademaster/Dreadlord with both mind and body. "What do you want with me, Darkfriend?" Isam shrugged. "Maybe your sword, maybe your soul. Maybe even your place next to al'Thor. Naah, not that." He deliberately left himself open yet another time to Dashiva's blade. Nothing happened. "Amateurs, these so-called Defenders of All. Ah well, I suppose al'Thor doesn't want his weapons getting any ideas of uprising." It was all Dashiva could do to keep Isam's sword away. Sooner or later, he'd slip, and he knew it. "You'll... never... get.. the ring..." he panted.
A moment of panic seized Isam. 'The ring? Al'Thor can't have it already! He can't!'
Suddenly, with Isam distracted, Dashiva's blade sliced open Isam's black crane tabard, the armor beneath, grazing a rib. Elated, thinking maybe there was a chance to live after all, Dashiva pressed the attack. He might as well have tried to channel saidar. Isam, faster than his eye could see, made two swift chops. Dashiva didn't even know what happened until his sword clattered on a rock, the bloody stump of his hand still grasping its hilt. A thump sounded on a branch behind him. The other hand. Dashiva screamed horribly and fell to his knees.
Isam laid the midnight blade to the boy's throat. "What... ring!"
Dashiva's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment. Barely coherent through the pain, Isam made out only, "Ring.. Tamyrl...'thor doesn.. uspect." His death rattle sounded as he fell forward. For a moment, Isam looked fearfully at the boy. He then cast around. 'Where did that hand go? Where?' Isam climbed tree after tree, prepared to scour the entire forest if need be. 'The Ring of Tamyrlin! The third most powerful sa'angreal ever made, and a nice ter'angreal as well!' He paused to reflect. 'I wonder how they made it..." After dark fell, Isam used his Power-enhanced vision. There could be no rest tonight, not if the boy truly had carried the ring. Near sunrise, he saw a glimpse of flesh among some briars. A hand. A severed, boy's hand. With a black and white cuendillar ring on it. Trembling, elated, Isam started to draw the ring off of the finger.
Instead, a great flash of light occurred. Pain flared, was reality for the prince of Malkier. Eventually it stopped. He reached for the ring again.
When Isam woke next, it was full noon. Awaking with a start, he cast about. Still no one here. Shaking, Isam reasoned that as the ring was a relic of the Light, he wouldn't be able to touch it. 'Well, I'll just have to... consecrate it... properly.' Isam drew out a small black bag and stuffed the hand inside, being careful not to touch the ring. Opening a gateway, he grinned as he complicated the new potential for chaos with the Ring of Tamyrlin in his hands.
One thing was for sure. He would die before he let that hand fall into another's possession. Even his dark master's.
Isam "Bladeblur" Mandragoran