Lay muttered a faint "Thanks", not knowing that Catriona was deaf, as he took his goblet and drank a few sips of the strong wine.
"Nnnnfff... a little bit to strong for my taste. Not much of a problem, though. Now, I can see that you guys are getting kinda curious and I'm not gonna let you wait any longer." He paused for a few moments to put his goblet back on the table and take a deep breath. "Shadar was my roommate when we were both Soldiers. You can say that we were partners in insanity--at least before he found Shani. As for Notumar, well, I've heard about him once or twice but, no, I don't know him."
A moment later he stood up, drew his short sword (oh, yeah, I nearly forgot to mention that Lay carried two swords--the longer one he laid on the table while the shorter one stayed tucked into his belt) and idly cut a passing fly in two. Re-sheathing his sword, he said to the others, "Whoops. Sorry guys, just keeping in practice." and sat back down onto his chair.
"How interesting!" Sundara closed her mental notebook, looking contemplatively at the assorted group of friends, strangers and miscellaneous others. They were certainly attracting attention. Despite the illusions that made them look normal, there was just something that prevented them from fitting in with everyone else.
"Perhaps we should explore further. We seem to have sufficiently studied this particular room by now."
From the kitchen there comes the sound of shattering dishes, and then complete and utter silence. This changes rather suddenly. With a frightened shriek, Catriona comes bursting out of the kitchen with the cook (one quite typical of any WoT inn) hot on her heels. She backpeddles quickly away from the angry woman, stammering "Mistress... I-I-Iwas only trying... to help! I didn't mean...!" She ducks a poorly-aimed rolling pin sent hurtling toward her head. "Honestly, I didn't mean to break yo-AHH!" At that moment she very unceremoniously runs straight into the travelers' table, falling back on it. The laws of physics being what they are, the sudden weight on only one side of the table causes that end, and Catriona, to tip quite rapidly toward the floor with a crash, dropping the white tablecloth over the frightened, mousy brunette, and splashing drinks upon the surrounding patrons and floor.
Catriona gasps and starts to apologize, only to cut the petition for forgiveness short in order to scramble around the other side of the skewed table, hiding from the cook, and the quickly-approaching innkeeper. She huddles beneath the trailing cloth in a ball with her arms thrown over her head.
Catriona, the Mightily Clutzy (and very often Confuddled, too)
Sundara leapt back as the serving girl, cook and innkeeper barrelled into the table in short succession. Well, maybe interest in this room hadn't quite been used up, although she hadn't been expecting a brawl.
She gave the scared-looking brunette a friendly smile, then dropped the mental pen beside the mental notebook and switched modes. Brown sister became Dark Sister.
"What is the meaning of this?" Her voice rang across the room. "I do not expect my conversations to be disturbed in such a vulgar manner! If something is broken, I suggest someone sweep it up rather than indulge in hurling rolling pins." Crossing her arms, she stared at the cook and innkeeper with dark eyes that seemed to have suddenly caught fire. "You may clean this mess up, and then bring my companions and I replacement drinks. Was there something?" she added as the cook seemed about to say something more.
Once the pair had returned meekly to the kitchen, Sundara sat down again, smoothed her skirts out, and smiled.
"That was quite a nice change, you know. I haven't had the chance to be rude to anyone for a long time. Lay, be a gentleman and help the lady out from under that tablecloth."
Anya brushed off a few strands of her black hair from her face as she tried to get up.
Allright, so she had opened the inn's door, and some kind hearted soul has given her the friendly welcome of a rolling pin swooshing just inches from her head, and then... Oh yeah, there was this goblet flying, and here she is now, looking like some drowned rat.
" you allright?" a voice broke her musings.
"Oh yeah, right. Just allright if anyone just know how I can get.."
Anya gasped as she looked at the owner of the voice.
Being boggled, of course, is a good thing. Plots and plans and manipulations swarm within the mind until it simply overflows with the Infinite Possibilities...
mm Infinite Possibilities
*moment of silence for John Crichton*
The mind pauses, and begins again, slowly re-wandering into the world of the Sisters, peering at first blankly at the new arrivals and suddenly beginning to recognise each one as a completely new arrival!
Choo choo ... *noisy crash*
The train of thought derailed, only to bring another forth.
Kiriath began to realise - by way of having his thoughts manipulated by an otherworldly force - that a great gathering of possible Light Knights was beginning to reveal itself.
Not the women, though.
Chances are they'd become more Sisters.
A very evil-sounding laugh came across the Bond.
Sir Kiriath Machin Ni, Machinwarder to Arie
"Another of you?" Carra kicked her chair back to make room for Catriona and Anya. "Well, well, it's a small world and growing weirder every day. And you are?"
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see another man and woman walking in the door. A man with a Great Serpent ring.
It took Lay quite a little while to realize what had been happening. Catriona and the cook broke out from the kitchen; he barely managed to grab his long sword and parry the rolling pin coming straight towards his head with the tip of its scabbard; Anya opened the door and a goblet of wine went splat onto her face; Sundara drove the cook and inkeeper back into the kitchen with the sheer force of her words (Yowser! Wasn't that poetic?); and, all the while, k'doi enveloping him. He slowly released the void, but kept the state of calmness that went with it.
"Ah, Catriona, don't be afraid--at least not that much. You're not a Trolloc being driven into Shadar Logoth!" he said as he helped Catriona to stand, his lips twisting into what appeared to be a smile both sincere and sinister at the same time--certainly he was struggling not to laugh. And no, he wasn't laughing at Catriona. It was Anya whom he was trying not to laugh at. "Eh, Anya? I didn't expect you to show up this way. Frankly, you look as if you've just been fished out of River Erinin!"
But, try as he might, he couldn't help it and in the end he burst out laughing.
Again, it took him quite a few moments to get back into his senses. When he finally did, he noticed that Anya and Catriona has settled into their seats and two newcomers are slowly making their way between the tables full of drunken patrons. A man with a Great Serpent ring. A woman in a color-shifting cloak. It seemed to him that all the laws of nature have been broken--or are they?
"Didn't I say that there is something wrong with this world?"
"Yes, you did," Carra agreed cheerfully. "Fun, isn't it?" She took pity on him after a moment, leaned forward and whispered: "It's a reverse-world. We came looking to see if there was a world anywhere where the Dragon was female. So we found one."
She leaned back, raised her voice to a normal level again and turned to Anya. "So how did you get here?"
Sundara watched, curious, as the presumed Aes Sedai and Warder made their way through the room and up the stairs. "I wouldn't have thought men had the sense for the job," she murmured to herself, before turning back to listen to Anya's answer.
Catriona flitted her eyes from one person to another almost nervously. On closer observation these people seemed very strange to her. She wondered why she hadn't noticed before. Something told her to be a bit more careful of three of the women. She wasn't sure why, but she knew she had something to figure out about them first. As she watched everyone's lips, she frowned. Even unable to hear them, they seemed to speak oddly. Not really an accent (to her, anyway) but... unspeakably different.
She eyed Lay, wondering how he knew her name. And what were these Trollocs, and this Shadar Logoth? Different indeed. She turned her gaze on Kiriath and very nearly scooted straight off the side of her chair away from him. That one gave her the creepy crawlies. He was more different than the others, and in a different way. It all just made her want to crawl back under the table and hide. Silently, she continued to shift her blue eyes rapidly, watching where the direction of the conversation was going, and reading lips to get some vague idea of what was going on. She blinked rapidly as it clicked in her mind what they were saying, and her jaw dropped. Were they all mad? Of course the Dragon was female! Could the women channel and the Taint on saidar had done this to them? The poor young woman began to feel rather panicky. This being the case, she did what she often did: "played" dead...er, faint. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she slumped in her chair, blacking out very quietly.
Catriona, the Mightily Clutzy (and very often Confuddled, too)
It took Anya quite some time to finally get her hair back to something not.. laughable. She still feel very sticky, though.
From the corner of her eyes she could see Lay's grinning face, barely trying to control his laughter. No, she thought furiously. That man had no self control at all!!
With a flow of air, she lifted a goblet from one very drunken and very surprised man on the next table (Who, strangely enough went freaking out about the Taint and ran out of the inn). The goblet hovered for a few seconds above Lay's head before it tilted sharply, sending all the contents splashing on Lay's head.
She flashed Lay her brightest smile before turning to the women on the other side of the table, realizing that she hadn't had the time to introduce herself yet.
"Oh hi, I'm Anya and-" the sentence hung in the air as the woman beside her,-Catriona, was it? went all faint and slumped in her chair.
"Oh, dear." Sundara looked around at the gaping room, wondering how easily this could be smoothed over. On balance, probably not very. It was time to take emergency measures.
"What do you think you're playing at, silly girl?" she demanded, abruptly slipping back into the imperious persona. Giving Anya no chance to reply, she continued at full tilt. "That kind of prank isn't even funny! And the rest of you! You're all drunk! Why in the Light did I bring you along with me?" Drawing herself up to her full height, which still made her the shortest person in the room, Sundara glared around at them all - hopefully someone would get the message - and then at the rest of the inn for good measure. "Well, I want you sober come morning, even if I have to stick your heads in the rain barrel to get you that way! And don't think I won't! Sober, you hear me?"
She grabbed Anya's wrist and half-dragged her out into the hallway, slamming the door shut behind them.
"Now with any luck that should convince them." She let go of Anya and pointed toward what appeared to be a private function room of some sort. "We wait in here. Explanations will be forthcoming as soon as the others join us."
Tearing a page from her notebook, she scrawled a quick note.
Everyone probably assumes by now I'm a spoiled noblewoman in disguise, so play along with that and get out and join us as soon as you can. NO CHANNELING. - Sundara
She used the True Power to drop the note in front of Ulrike, on the basis that she was the only guaranteed sane person left in the room, and waited impatiently.
Anya sat down on one of the chair in the room the woman had hustled her into, since there's nothing else she could do, anyway. Well, she could just simply go away. But there's the big question : Where??
Allright, it's bad enough that she had woke up to find herself lying under a tree. Well, if you did went to sleep under a tree that's all fine, isn't it? But there's the fact that she happened to go to sleep in an inn's room. Guess that makes it quite a BIG problem, doesn't it?
Not really what you'd call a great morning.
Then she sorta found this inn, and thought that a little breakfast won't hurt.
Wrong answer. Flying goblets and rolling pins, eh? Definitely an improvement.
Just when she thought things won't get worse, there he was, with all his grins and everything : Lay.
Wrong answer again, it seems.
And just when she thought she's getting her little personal revenge done, the woman had practically dragged her here as if she had blown up the inn with the One Power or something. Beautiful, just beautiful.
What had she done, anyway? She channeled, yes, that's all wasn't it? And what's the deal with that guy, freaking out about the Taint and running out of the inn as if a horde of Trollocs was hot on his heels? Perhaps it has something to do with this whole fuss. Or has it? Or..??
Anya sighed, and went back massaging her wrist. Coming up to the assumption that trying to sort it all up wasn't doing her any good.
So she waited.
She sat quietly in her corner, absorbing the ongoing events. As if the strange - taste - of saidar wasn't telltale enough the flying rumors and later the appearance of a male Aes Sedai were the proof. They had indeed found a world with a female Dragon.
When I got this idea, she mused ruefully, I never considered tainted saidar. However, I have managed almost my whole life without the One Power, I will do without it for a few days. And the Dark Sisters are probably immun.
This wasn't the case for this girl who joined their table later on and promptly caused a scene. Fortunately Sundara reacted immediately and Ulrike wasn't surprised to get her little message only a few heart beats later.
She could feel her friend next to her elbow. Probably he had already read this message over her shoulder. Al'cair?, she directed her thoughts to him. Tell the others of our party it is time to retire. In silence! And no pushing of chairs or opening of doors by invisible claws. We don't need any more attention.
She noticed Kiriath's slight start and knew Al'cair was passing the message. Then she remembered a little detail.
Tell Lay that he must take the responsibility for the prank or a witch hunt could start!
She fixated a hard stare on the young man and made certain she was heard at the next tables. "You and your girl-friend - you deserve each other. What were you thinking? Terrifying these good people! You should be ashamed of yourself!"
Lay started. "What, me?" Ulrike wanted to kick him - hard.
Vadinmael thanked the farmer for the information. So it seemed a group of Odd people had been here. After searching through ten worlds he had finally found them. The K'emperor would be unhappy if they were not found.
Taking hold of the male half of the Third Power Vadinmael spun balefire at the farmers cow. The cow ceased to be. The farmer ran, or rather tried to run away. Halfway down the hill he fell and hit a rock. Better for him; perhaps he would think everything was a dream.
In the distance Vadinmael could see a town. Perhaps that is where they went. While pondering this, in a moment of boredom he unleashed balefire at three cats and two horses, and for good measure a large oak tree.
How dare anyone claim he was insane. Sure he enjoyed balefire, but what wasn't enjoyable about it. At least he didn't claim things that flatly contradicted the facts; at least not very often. Deciding that the town was the best place to go he started off.
Carra did her best to smother giggles as Sundara turned into a spoiled princess. It was a pretty good disguise for the spur of the moment. People expected stupid behaviour from young nobles.
"See?" she drawled. "Not funny." She pointed in Lay's general direction, missing by an inch or so, and shook her finger at him. "Pranks aren't funny. Dara said so."
She giggled again, pretended to lose her balance and grabbed on to him, causing them both to wobble. "You're drunk! So am I," she confided. Not a chance of that. Dark Sisters didn't get drunk. Not on normal drinks, anyway.
"Hurry, we have to get out," she whispered, then giggled again to cover it. "Come on! We gotta go get sober or Dara'll be mad again." She started tugging him out of the room. The others would have to bring themselves along.
With whom the message ends, no one knows. Fat chance the message would ever end, if Kiri's voices got a hold of it. Hurriedly he shoved them to the back of his mind - with the Bond getting the message in a strange manipulation of nothing of consequence.
A flashback to a different world entered Kiriath's mind, in which people backstabbed each other with a gun to each other's head. That involved a kind of clone, though. Not the same. Though that was one of the routes that his Eccentricity noted from this current position.
To backstab or not to backstab..
Much as Mashiara would have loved to be in the midst of this much chaos, he decided against it.
He began to make a slow drunken crawl of sorts to the door, planning to savor the chaotic room as long as possible ... and then a curiously friendly voice spoke.
Wrong area, you're heading to the wrong area. The door's thataway - you really ARE drunk.
His fogged mind realised that the voice was in fact Samirhage, before it revealed its purpose and strewed a wee bit more chaos into the already confusing room.
It hit a light fixture, and a glass.
Kiriath winced; that's not nice to hear in any darkness.
Sir Kiriath Machin Ni, Machinwarder to Arie
With a mixture of bemusement and amusement, Melissande watched her companions begin acting. If she hadn't known better, she'd have sworn they'd practised this routine.
Sundara stormed out dragging Anya. Carramaena staggered out dragging Lay. Ulrike scolded. Kiriath weaved his way across the room in what seemed no particular direction - in fact, she thought, looking closer, he actually did seem to be drunk. At least the other customers seemed more entertained than alarmed now by their various antics.
She looked back and forth between Kiriath and a still-unconscious Catriona.
"He's heavier, so... Chance, if you help Arie with him and I take the girl..." She glanced again at the two, neither of whom seemed inclined to move themselves, and muttered a curse. Shifting sleeping or drunk people wasn't her idea of fun, even if she'd been able to channel to do it.
"Ulrike, settle with the innkeeper and..." She winced at the sound of breaking glass. "Light, they probably don't even use the same coins. Tell her Sundara will pay in the morning; she or Carra will have to conjure up some illusions, since they don't channel anything detectable."
She turned back to Catriona, wondering if cold water in the face would wake her up. There was a cup on the table nearby.
OOC: That's fair warning, Catriona.
Melissande Amaline Isten
The town was a rather ordinary town. Not the sort of town you would expect the sort of people he was looking for to be in. But perhaps that was why he should have expected them to be there. Like a proton and an electron two opposite things tended to attract each other. But then where did neutrons come in. Not being opposite to either of them why were they still part of an atom.
The ordinary town, had an ordinary inn. Where better to look then in an inn. Most people arriving in a new town would head to an inn either for a room or news. He would head there for the later.
Before he entered the inn Vadinmael decided it was better to error on the side on caution. He should disguise himself. While he was standing there thinking what to disguise himself as Sundara came out of the inn dragging Anya, followed closely by Carramaena dragging Lay.
Vadinmael ducked back into a near by alley. This was surprising, he hadn't expected to find them this easily. Quickly he used the Third Power to weave illusion around himself. Smiling he walked in to the inn disguised as Kiriath. When your opponent does something unexpected; do something even more unexpected.
Carra gave Lay a final push through the door, then kicked it shut behind her. "Nice act," she complimented Sundara.
"Thanks. All right." She looked at the other two. Anya was looking annoyed and confused. Lay just looked confused. "Shall we explain now or leave them wondering for a bit longer?"
Carramaena, no longer drunk
Blackness. Darkness. Nothingness...
With a gasp, Catriona shot up straight in her chair. She shook her head quickly, and wiped water off her face, muttering silently as she vainly tried to wipe some from her dress before it soaked in. Her attempt at grooming was promptly interrupted as Melissande grabbed her arm, a bit more gently than Sundara to Anya, and pulled her quickly into the private room with the others.
Once inside, Catriona stood there and studied the others a second, remembering how she came to be in their presence and bit her lip nervously. They didn't... seem all that threatening. Perhaps she had imagined the floating cup.
Well, never being one not to give people a chance, she merely stood in a corner, folding her arms across her stomach (Eat your heart out, RJ. We don't ALL hafta fold them beneath our breasts. Ha! *ahem*) and leaned against a wall. She had read Carramaena's question upon entering, and she was indeed VERY interested in an explanation.
Catriona, the Tag-along
Arie could barely keep from laughing. It seemed several of the inn's occupants were a bit squiffy, her Warder included. The Bond was most... interesting now, as she had never felt Kiriath on any mind altering substances except those pan galactic gargle blasters and Eccentricity. She giggled and realized she was feeling rather off herself.
"I'll try," she told Melissande, "but I'm not sure I'll be much help."
Just then, she saw another Kiriath walk through the door. Well... he looked similar to him, except he was actually walking perfectly straight on his own two feet. And that glint of madness just wasn't there. Anyway, he wasn't fooling her. No siree.
"Person who looks vaguely like Kiriath, who would you be? And why do you... well..." here she giggled, "look like him?"
::Arie, of the Tyrant Pride
In shock Vadinmael stopped. How could this girl see through his illusion, it wasn't possible. The shock didn't last long, the important thing in tense situation was not to panic.
Quickly he decided that the best course of action was to change the illusion. Weaving the Third Power he made himself appear to be anine foot tall Kiriath, along with having flames all over his body.
"I am the Grand Death Marshall Vadinmael. Who are you to question me." Not waiting for an anwser he walked across the common room toward the private room he had seen the others go into.
"You can't go in their that's a private room." He simply Ignored the annoying innkeeper. Trying to make a dramatic entrance Vadinmael wove Balefire at the door. The door ceased to exsist and Vadinmael went in.
"You can't come in here, this is a private room," Carra told the nine-foot-tall Kiriath impersonator who had just balefired the door. "And didn't you ever learn to knock?" Being insane and correspondingly balefire-proof, she promptly turned her back on him and continued the conversation as if he wasn't there.
Startled, to say the least, by Vadinmael's rather unorthodox entrance, Catriona gawked up at him in awe, fear and perplexity. Was NOTHING normal about these people?! The door had simply... disappeared! And the woman who had dragged her in here had rebuffed this... THING as one might tell a child to go play with his toys, and then ignored him.
Catriona gave off a soft sound, much like a cross between a sigh and a whimper, and wondered why she had even wandered into this place at all, not more than thirty minutes ago.
OOC: Darn those ta'veren.
Catriona, The Mightily Confuddled
Stifling an angry feeling is not an easy thing, and while Lay was rather good at it, this time he was unable to contain his anger--not with what Anya has done to him. That was a mortal insult!
And then, just as he was about to explode, this nine-feet-tall guy balefired his way in without any regards to politeness, giving him yet another reason to be angry. Squinting at Vadinmael, he wove a massive flow of Air and threw the guy all the way across the common room. That being done, he turned to Anya and slowly approached her.
There was a faint click as he loosened his sword in its scabbard.
He tightened his grip on the sword's hilt and a second later it darted out towards Anya's throat, stopping just a hair's breadth short of its target.
"Yes, right. I should have killed you back then." He hissed, his expression becoming colder than usual. "You're lucky that we happen to be in a different world than ours--otherwise your head would already be flying across the room. That would certainly be a lovely sight."
For a moment he could not decide what to do next. To kill or not to kill, that is the question, he thought. Or rather, to live in shame or to die in ridicule. Why has the Pattern been so unfair to me? My life has been a total mess ever since I met Anya, not the least because I loved her, though she apparently didn't feel the same. I admit that it was his fault--I never mustered enough courage to tell her--yet, whenever she's close, I tend to lose control over myself.
He reminded himself that this is a different reality. The Pattern might not even work exactly in the same way it does in his world. Killing Anya might bring about undesirable consequences. At best, he might be apprehended by the local police force or city guard and sentenced for murder; at worst, his identity as a channeler might be revealed and, him being a wilder, the White Tower in this world might not be very friendly to him and as a consequence he might get stilled. With a supreme effort to suppress his anger he sheathed his sword and opted to do something less cruel: weaving Air and Water, he dried his hair and clothes and splashed the wine onto Anya's face.
Frowning, he turned his gaze towards Carra, Lissa, and Sundara. "You don't have to repeat your earlier explanation. Saidar's tainted intead of saidin, the Dragon's female, and the Aes Sedai are male. I know that clearly enough. Fine enough, but let me clarify this point: Anya-is-not-my-girlfriend!" he retorted sharply, "Now that you want me to play the scapegoat, that's fine with me. I've always been the scapegoat and probably will always be the scapegoat. That's what ta'veren are for: to be the scapegoat of other people's mistakes!" With that final remark, he flung out of the room and into the common room.
In the common room, he slammed a fist of Air at one of the tables, causing the panicking patrons to suddenly fall silent.
"Masters and Mistresses, I apologize for this momentary inconvenience, but please let me explain. I'm a channeler and that flying goblet was an accident--sometimes the weaves simply slip out of my control and fail. Once again, I'm sorry for your inconvenience and I shall be held responsible for whatever has happened since that goblet went off the table until right before that balefire-toting guy came in--I know absolutely nothing about him and therefore I hold no responsibility for his actions and whatever damages he might have caused. Is that clear enough?"
He wasn't really sure that it was the best choice; nevertheless, it was his choice and he should stick to it even if that means surrendering his life. As a safeguard measure, he seized saidin and prepared to launch whatever weaves might be necessary.
Lay gave a start as his belt pouch vibrated. He opened it and found that the vibrating thing was a handheld communication ter'angreal from the Age of Legends--it was called something like cel'fonn and it could ring, but he had never known it vibrate.
He picked up the cel'fonn and said casually,"Hello?"
Puzzled, Lay closed the cel'fonn 's flip cover and began mumbling to himself. "Well, certainly there is something wrong with me, and something wrong with this world. But if there is something wrong with this fonn then I'll be damned. Heh, I'm already damned, ain't I?"
The phone vibrated again.
For the second time in 57 seconds Lay closed the flip cover. "There is something wrong with this fonn . I'm twice damned, then."
Just then a balefire flashed out from nowhere. Lazily sidestepping it, he resolved to put the cel'fonn in his pouch and ignore it for the time being--a moment earlier he had thought of balefiring it straight away, but that didn't seem to be a particularly wise choice. And where did that balefire come from?
Balefire flew from Vadinmael's hand in the general direction of Lay. Unfourtunately Lay sidestepped it and the Balefire made a nice hole in the wall. The patrons of the inn that were still there left in a panic. It was one thing to see the Power wielded at doors and goblets and quite another at other people. The fact that it was the Third Power and not the One Power was of little consequence to them.
Anger weld up within Vadinmael, he was beginning to think he would have to walk across the common room again rather than just Balefire Lay and be back to where he was. Crossing back to the door he... dropped to the ground as two fireballs streaked through where he had been. It seemed that Lay wanted to fight.
If Lay wanted to fight he probably should have picked someone other than himself. Vadinmael had killed 17 men in hand-to-hand combat in the last two years. Without thought he returned fire. Fireballs struck the wall behind Lay narrowly missing his head. Well that didn't work Vadinmael thought to himself.
A new course of action was needed. Weaving fire and air Vadinmael tugged at the wall behind Lay. The wall started to come down threatening to bury Lay.
Oh great, now what??, Anya thought as the Kiriath-but-not-Kiriath Balefired his way to the room. He was certainly being showy,nine foot tall, flames all over... What mess had he gotten herself into now??
Before she had the time to say anything to the stranger, Lay had taken the initiative to throw out the guy. And why was he looking at her like that??
All thoughts went away ike smoke as she suddenly realized that she was very nearly headless from the sword that Lay had taken out of its scabbard, while the owner of the sword seem to have a mental struggle inside his head. To kill or not to kill??, perhaps. That's Lay for you.
It seems the not to kill part won, thankfully, Lay left, but not without ensuring that her face got its second dose of wine.
"That's twice, then. I really need a bath" Anya muttered to herself as she wiped her face as best as she could with her sleeve, since she couldn't use the One Power to dry off. She had caused enough problem for one day, it seems.
Anya turned her attention to the rest of the room. The Balefire guy is already on his feet, while the rest was watching the guy with varied interest.
She turned at Sundara.
"Er...since you've dragged me here and all. What, if I may ask, is it that you actually want to talk about? That Balefire guy could come later, right?"
Catriona simply hides under a table in the corner.
Catriona, the Mightily Frightened
Seeing the wall behind him crumble, Lay wove a shield of Air and Spirit and, instead of burying him, the pieces of the wall darted off at odd angles across the room. One hit the bar, another hit a window jamb, and the rest are just too numerous to mention one by one.
Right, he hated to fight, and fighting has always been a last-ditch alternative to him, but anyone stupid enough to bring him into a fight deserves some beating. He launched a few false balefires and two fireballs at Vadinmael, none of which found its mark. Nevertheless, that proved to be enough of a diversion to allow him to close in.
"Hello, can't we just simply talk it out? I came here to do some research work, not to get involved in some flamin' bar brawl!"
Sundara considered the possibilities of a plausible explanation. The... prank... could be written off, their various idiosyncrasies put down to being eccentric foreigners... Balefire blasted through the door. With a sigh, she gave up the idea.
"The Pattern is playing games with us, and we're about to go play them elsewhere," she said as succinctly as possible, and grabbed hold of reality. Away from her own world this was probably a bad idea, but things had gotten too far to fix any normal way.
Reality shifted, and the original travellers, along with Lay, Anya, Catriona and Vadinmael, vanished from the inn and reappeared down the road by the Portal Stone.
She turned an icily imperious, and this time completely genuine, glare on Vadinmael.
"Who the hell are you, and what do you think you're doing?"
OOC: Dark Sisters can out-god mode any of you, guys, so play nice or reality will be shifted in startling ways. Just a warning.
Finding herself far from the safety of the table, Catriona sighed again. She stood up and dusted herself off, and folded her arms across her stomach once again. She was forced to resign herself to this twist in her thread of the Pattern. Chewing on her lip, she glanced around, eyeing the strange, squiggle-covered stone pillar suspiciously. A moment later, she turned her attention on her new companions; balefire-throwing, reality-shifting, insane and all. Propping her chin in her hand, she watched the other in silence. Her expression now was almost... bored. This wouldn't be the first bizarre turn in her life... and she had an uneasy feeling it wouldn't be the last, not around these folks. Oh no.
Catriona, Adjusting to the Insanity of it All
Can't I find someplace where there aren't maniacs who use the One Power?
Frustrated, Malkor got out of bed and put his breeches back on. He had only come into the inn but an hour ago and already he had been disturbed in his well earned slumber. As Malkor slowly lurched his way out of sleep he began to gather up his only belongings: his pack containing three gold and five silver marks, and his sword.
After gathering his things from beside the pallet he worked his way to the door. Still fighting the last remanents of sleep the bulky, six foot three soldier worked the leather thong attached to his scabbard around his neck allowing the blade to rest gently against the small of his back. Once Malkor finished descending the flight of stairs that led into the common room he check his sword to ensure that it was clear in it's scabbard lest he need to carve up the bastards that awoke his from his pleasant dreams. Working his way accross the common room to the open double doors that lead into the darkness of night Malkor was interrupted by the burly innkeeper.
"Excuse me sir ,but please stay inside. The party that caused the trouble has left and they are sure to be caught by the city gaurds by now," Malkor slowly looked down towards the nervous man and glared at him.
"I appreciate your concern sir; however, I am quite capable of looking after myself," Malkor chuckled inside at the man's genuine fear of Aes Sedai. The innkeeper slowly nodded as he gazed at the marvelous blade at Malkor's back. After determining that this big man in front of him probably knew how to use the big broadsword resting at his back, the innkeeper quickly went back into the kitchens to hide from whoever it was that had caused all the trouble in his inn.
" Now let's take a look at the people who are going to have to die this night." At that Malkor made his way outside into the bleak nothingness of night.
Malkor: Newbie at it's finest
Anya stood up and dusted herself ( Light, but she Really need a bath!) and scanned her surroundings, which even more out-of-this world than anything else. Where the heck is this?!! One moment back they're on the inn's private room, and then Sundara did this weird thing and... How is she supposed to go back now?? Being thrown into another world once is fine, but Twice!!???
Lay, who had previously been trying to calm Vadinmael down, felt himself being tugged into a direction that he'd never known exist. Well, that's got to be Sundara, he thought. Not even remotely surprising. The philosopher in his head told him to stay quiet, and he complied.
Vadinmael watched Lay come closer, and just as he was about to deliver a killing blow with Balefire, he felt himself yanked away.
Reality shifted, colors twisted, objects bent in on themsleves, and when everything was still again they were back on the hill by the Portal Stone.
Sundara turned and gave Vadinmael a icily imperious glare. "Who the hell are you, and what do you think you're doing?"
"I am Vadinmael, Grand Death Marshall of the K'emperor, wielder of the Third Power,and Lord of the Three Golden Pillows. As for what I'm doing, I am standing on a hill top." Vadinmael always hated when people asked questions that they should know the answer to.
"I think the real question is who gave you the right to yank all out of the inn and back to this hill! Me and Lay were in the middle of a fight! I do not like to have my fights interrupted!"
*chuckles at Vadinmael's reply* "Nah, there you go again. Can't you think of anything else but fighting? 'know what, your bfs are very much useless--as Carra (or Lissa? I couldn't remember) had pointed out earlier, we're all insane and therefore balefire-proof--well, maybe not all of us, but at least that applies to most of us, anyway."
"I asked you what you thought you were doing, not what you were doing," Sundara retorted. "Pay attention. What you think you're doing may be standing on a hill. What you are doing is standing on a hill making a nuisance of yourself. And that, incidentally, is what gives me the right to interrupt you.
"So let's try some more questions. Where are you from, why did you get here, and didn't your mother ever tell you that it's rude to balefire people engaged in a private conversation?"
Ignoring Sundara for the moment Vadinmael turns to Lay, "Just because Balefire is useless on you doesn't make the use of it any less enjoyable." After waiting an appropriate amount of time Vadinmael finally turns back and decides to awnser Sundara's questions. "I am from what you would call an alternate reality. In my world the One Power doesn't exsist at all. Now many of you may be wondering how then can I channel? Well, that's simple I use the Third Power. The Third Power is almost exactly like the One Power except that it was created by the people in my world 3,500 years ago.
"As for why I am here, I simply followed you to this world using a ter'angreal from my world. "Ignoring Sundara's question about the rudeness of using Balefire; how many people's mother's actually said anything to there children about Balefire was none, he continued.
"Perhaps a more appropriate question is how did you shift reality like that, and which of you will come willingly back to my world," and with a hint of insane expectation, "Who will I have to take with."
'Well, this is certainly... unusual,' she thinks to herself. She finally knows what was so strange about these strange people. Third Power. Of all the ridiculous things... She decides not to ask out loud why exactly he's trying to balefire the snot out of everyone, seeing as she doesn't particularly want to draw attention to herself. At least not his.
The matter of alternative realities is a puzzle to her, though. Reality is reality, as everyone knows. But still, the unsettling feeling that he truly is from beyond this plane remains in her mind, and she long ago learned to trust that intuition.
Sensing something else out and about, she turns her attention to the surrounding countryside. The hills are barren of signs of animal or human life, but she can almost track the progress of a being wandering in their more or less general direction. No gender, personality, abilities or such are discernable as yet.
She turns back to watch the others, and simply says and does nothing in response to Vadinmael's rather unnerving question.
Catriona, the Confuddled but Mostly Sane?