Break A Leg

[Tony]

Gulls cried from overhead and Jaric looked up at them. They glided around on their wings searching for scraps of food people may have left on the ground. Most of them were about the mouth of the harbor where the boats were. There were a few fishing boats, but the shallow waters of the river didn't yield as much fish as the Sea of Storms would.

Tar Valon rested on a strip of land in the middle of the Erinin River. A shining white wall encircled the city and opened up at the north and south ends for harbors. Towers rose up from the walls and Jaric could faintly see soldiers up there. More patrolled the wall. Behind the wall towers and palaces rose up and shining domes winked in the sunlight.

The awe of seeing Tar Valon was great, but Jaric kept himself from goggling the city too much. They were here to help Dagon try and get his leg Healed by Aes Sedai. It took them a few weeks to travel from Caemlyn to Tar Valon. They first headed to Aringill to take a boat up river. With luck they did find a boat on the first day they were in town. From then on they relaxed on the boat and kept out of the crew's way.

They arrived through the southern harbor. They all stood on the bow of the vessel looking at the city. The boat came up to the dock and men threw over tied bags of wool to protect the hull. A gang plank was lowered and some men were in the process of moving their horses onto the dock. Jaric went back into the small cabin the captain of the vessel allowed them to share and gathered his stuff. Creaking came from the stairs and Jaric looked up to see Dagon hobbling down towars their cabin.

[Tony]

Jaric straightened up as Dagon came in. He was about to say a greeting, but the familiar screeching roar came filling his head. He could feel the force of it building in the back of his head. Dimly he heard Dagon ask what was wrong. The building intensified. It was never this big before. The roaring was louder and louder. Jaric thought his ears were going to burst. Then there was a flash.

The roaring had the stopped and the force in his head was trickling out. But he ignored that and concentrated on what was in front of him. He was on a road, that much was obvious. He looked around and stopped dead. In the road was him, Jaric, and Dagon. But what was more of a shock was the Aes Sedai and her Warder. Then there was a flash.

Dagon layed on the side of the road, unconsious. Jakob looked to be having a staring contest with the Aes Sedai. And himself was holding back the Warder with all his might and Borderland training. It was tough work holding him off, but he knew he could do it. Then there was a flash.

Jaric held his sword at the Warder's throat. Over where the Aes Sedai was, there was only a blackened patch. Jakob was helping Dagon to his feet. He looked back at the Warder and saw sadness in his eyes. He had lost his Aes Sedai. Jaric could see himself asking the Warder something and the Warder shook his head and said something. Then quick as lightning the Warder grabbed Jaric's blade and thrust it into his throat killing himself. Jaric grimced and pulled his blade free. Then there was a flash.

Jaric was half laying on the bed. Dagon was next to him checking his eyes. Jaric pushed his hand away and slowly got up. His legs wobbled a little bit, but he could stand. He heard, but then not heard, Dagon ask if he was all right. "I'm fine," Jaric replied, "It was nothing." He slowly walked to the steps that lead out of the ship carrying his stuff. The vision still shook him to his bones.

[Victor]

With what little he possessed, Dagon followed Jaric out of the ship. His heart was still beating from what he had seen happen to Jaric. It was as if the man had passed out. But then when Dagon had asked Jaric if he was alright, the Borderlander had shrugged it off as if nothing had happened.

Following Jaric, Dagon decided that it would be rude to press on with his questioning. Besides... he was approaching Tar Valon. Finally, a chance to get his leg healed! His mood was considerably cheerful, but the young man felt somehow that it would not be so simple as to go to the White Tower and ask for healing. He was sure that Aes Sedai did many other things in the day... how to get their attention?

And before that, decisions had to be made about what they would do in Tar Valon. With a quick stride -- which in Dagon's case consisted of a determined limp -- Dagon attempted to draw up to Jaric. He soon drew close "What do we plan to do here, Jaric?" he asked. "Tar Valon is the biggest city I've seen... where will we stay?"

[Tony]

Jaric climbed up the steps and onto the deck of the boat. Men were walking back and forth carrying lines, crates, and other objects around. Careful as to now get in there where, Jaric made his way to the plank. Looking around he noticed that Jakob was no where to be seen, so he must have disembarked all ready. Dagon followed him up the stairs and limped up to catch him. When he got near he said, "What do we plan to do here, Jaric? Tar Valon is the biggest city I've seen... where will we stay?"

Jaric replied, "I've passed through Tar Valon a few times. I know of some inns that are decent and not that expensive. There's a really good one near the Ogier grove." When Jaric reached the bottom of the ramp he saw Jakob off to one side with the horses. Jaric walked over and looked around at the city to get his bearings. They would need to travel in a north west direction to reach the inn. He remembered that the inn was near a small palace that had a golden dome and a statue of a woman with staff raised above her head as if she were about to hit something.

Jaric grabbed the reins from Jakob and climbed into Steel's saddle. The others hopped onto their horses and followed him. Weaving a path through the people on the docks he made his way toward the gate that lead into the city. The guards barely even glanced at him as he rode in, even with his swords sticking from behind him and his spear in his hand. Jaric and Dagon passed by also without any trouble.

Just inside the gate was a bustle of activity. Men and women walked about on their own agendas paying no mind to the newcomers. Newcomers were all too often in Tar Valon, even Borderlanders. Every now and then he spotted Accepted in their white dresses with the colored fringes. He thought he might have spotted a couple of Aes Sedai and their Warders one point talking on a corner. Jaric was never around Aes Sedai much to tell if they were one or not, but he could tell a Warder's deadly grace from a common man in a heart beat. Warders were almost like cousins to Borderlanders. They fought the Shadow just as hard as they did, if not harder.

Besides noticing people Jaric looked at the inns and shops that lined the sides of the streets. Some looked like crashing waves and others looked like wind sculpted cliffs. Jaric saw one that looked a lot like a fallen tree with a boulder in it's roots. There were shop owners outside with tables showing off knives, or food, or pots, or a number of other things. Always trying to out sell their stuff than the guy next to them. This mended into the babble that all ready covered the streets. Jugglers and performers dotted some of the corners of streets and you could sometimes hear the voice of a gleeman coming from one of the inns. But none of the inns were the one he was looking for.

After traveling a few more blocks Jaric could spot the Great Trees that rose out of the Ogier Grove. They were a beautiful sight among all these buildings and people. The inn should be coming up soon. Jaric started scanning the inn signs looking for it. After two more blocks he stopped suddenly almost making someone run into him. There before him stood a four story stone inn with a blue tiled roof. There were a number of chimneys that rose from the roof and they were all giving off smoke. Some men and women came out of the inn laughing as they went.

Jaric dismounted his horse and brought him over to the side of the inn where the stable was located. He handed the reins over to the stable boy and grabbed his blanket roll and spear. Dagon and Jakob did the same and followed him back to the front. He gazed up one more time at the sign. It was of a man with two sword fighting a Myddraal. He climbed the stairs and opened the door and walked into the Borderlander.

[Victor]

As Jaric led Dagon and Jakob through the city, Dagon could not help but marvel at his surroundings. They were even more impressive than Caemlyn... and the streets were just as, if not more, crowded than the Andoran city.

After several minutes riding through Caemlyn, Dagon began to get his bearings and stop gaping. However, his eyes still wandered the streets and the buildings. On one street corner, he saw a man selling what appeared to be a crystal carved into the shape of a large wolf. Near the entrance to an inn with a leaping fish above the door, a pair of men who appeared to be drunk were harassing a dark-haired woman. However, the two drunks fled when a man whose height rose above the top of the door approached and made as if to beat them off.

Once the group had moved past several more inns, Dagon began to wonder if Jakob knew where he was going. Just before he decided to ask the Borderlander that very question, Jaric suddenly angled toward an inn called the Borderlander. An amused smile grew onto Dagon's face at the name of the inn. After turning Meraxes over to the stable boy, he followed Jaric into the inn.

Because the day was approaching a close, there was already a modest crowd in the common room. However, judging by the size of the inn, there would be at least one room left unclaimed. Shrugging to adjust the weight of the pack and quiver he wore on his back and shifting his bow from his left to his right hand, Dagon swept his gaze across the room in a search for the innkeeper.

[Robert]

Jakob laughed internally to himself as the other men gaped about the city. Even Jaric seemed to be looking around far too much for his own good...

He couldn’t deny the grandeur of the city himself, of course, but it was nothing to openly gasp about. The Shining Walls were nothing compared to what he imagined; indeed, he found himself preferring the silver streaked walls of Caemlyn back home. The buildings were spectacular, he had to admit, but nothing truly special...

Finally, he stopped lying to himself. The city was certainly great. But he still, a nagging voice in the back of his head said, liked Caemlyn better.

Besides which, though the Oiger had a certain thing for stonecraft, he didn’t particularly like their building style. It was stone. What point was there to a stone wave, or a stone tree? If they were going to bloody go for a natural look, he said to himself gruffly, they could at least cover the damn things with moss or something. Or make the waves out of some crystalline material. Not stone.

The sun shone brightly over the city, making the White Tower in the distance shine like burnished armor. That, too, he thought to himself, wasn’t particularly impressive. It looked like an over bloated castle tower with a little too much whitewash poured over it.

In fact, it was starting to hurt his eyes. Damnable sun.

Instead of looking about at the towers, he focused on more earthly matters. Abruptly, he dismounted in the middle of the street. His companions did not so much as glance over, they were doubtless used to him doing this; saddle sore killed his backside. So he walked, leading Quicksilver around, though not holding the reigns; the horse followed him around well enough on her own.

The rest of his party were headed over to that one inn Jaric had mentioned, and he followed. After the necessary arrangements for the horses were made, they stepped inside.

It was a cozy enough place, though why in Shayol Ghul Jaric idolized the bloody place was beyond him.

[Tony]

Jaric stepped into the Borderlander with a grin on his face. This inn was made specifically for the people from the Borderlands, that is why he choose it. Everything hailed from the four current Borderlands and Malkeir. There weren't much Malkeirie left anymore, but the innkeeper kept their culture alive with all the rest.

The tables square tables came from Arafel. Stout backed chairs hailed from Saldea. Four-pronged, silver worked, gold candlesticks were from Malkeir. The wall hangings depicting great battles came from Shienar. The two big gold marble fireplaces came from Kandor. Jaric's grin just grew bigger at all the objects.

The innkeeper walked up to Jaric, Jakob, and Dagon. The short, fat, and balding man grinned when he saw Jaric. He knew from Jaric's own grin that he hailed from somewhere in the Borderlands. Jaric bowed his head and said, "Good innkeeper, my companions and I wish rooms. And perhaps a good Borderlander meal, too."

The innkeeper nodded his head and replied, "There are plenty of rooms and meals for people from the Borderlands. If you don't mind me asking, I do this with every customer, where from the Border do you come from?"

Jaric's grin faltered a little bit, but he spoke with a calm voice, "From Shienar, my good innkeeper. It's been awhile since I've visited my homeland."

"I guess so," the innkeeper said, "You let your topknot grow out. You better shave off that hair if you're on your way back to Shienar."

Jaric nodded, "I will when I go home, but that won't be for awhile. I'm hear to help a friend. We've traveled from Caemlyn and the journey here was tiring. If we may have our rooms?"

With a nod the innkeeper brought them around to a staircase and lead them up to the next floor. They went down halfway through the hall and the balding man produced a key ring and unlocked a door. He opened the room and showed them in.

The room had three, big, wide beds. Rugs covered the floor and tapestries hung on the wall. There were wardrooms for each of them and a pitchier of water and a bowl. Chests sat at the foot of each bed like lumps. Even though Tar Valon was not as far north as Shienar, blankets were piled high on each bed.

The innkeeper left without a word and Jaric unslung his saddlebags form his shoulder and set them down atop one of the chests. He unbuckled his swords and set them down too. He jumped atop one of the beds and groaned as muscles started to relax in his back. After a few minutes he turned over and saw Jakob sitting on a chair looking glum and Dagon laying on a bed. Jaric sat up slowly and thought for a few moments. When the silence got too long he voiced a question, "When do you want to go to the White Tower?"

[Victor]

Dagon continued to lie in his bed, remaining silent for several moments after Jaric asked his question. Finally, he answered. "I'm not sure when would be a good time. I'm nervous about it, I'll give you that. But the faster I get to the White Tower, the faster I can get something done with my leg..."

Not for the first time, Dagon began to wonder what would happen when he got into the White Tower. Would the Aes Sedai there be willing to heal his leg? And if they did, would it be painful?

Sitting up in his bed, Dagon brought his bad leg up and examined it. It was far less sore than it would have been if he had ridden to Tar Valon, or traveled on foot. The slight soreness was still there... but then, it always was, now that Dagon travelled. And he was slowly becoming wise to the woes of doing it. Walking took the most effort. Riding was easier, but it still made his leg ache some. Travelling by ship was the easiest so far, but the bouncing of the vessel on the water still disturbed his leg. Not as much as walking did, though. With a grimace, Dagon recalled is journey to Caemlyn. Burn this leg... he thought to himself.

"Should we go tomorrow, then?" suggested Dagon, continuing with his previous line of conversation. "It seems a bit late today... but like I said, I think it would be best to do something soon." Before I lose my nerve, he added mentally.

[Tony]

Jaric watched as Dagon pulled the pant leg up on his bad leg. The twisted muscles and skin were visible and inwardly Jaric cringed. He couldn't just couldn't help it. On the way to Tar Valon Jaric had tried to imagine his leg like Dagon's and it was hard to. The only way he'd know is if he was Dagon, and that was impossible. His sympathy extended far to Dagon, but that was not the only reason he was helping the man. Something deep inside himself liked the man, no matter what his leg looked like. That's why he took a detour on his journey, to help a friend.

Jaric gave himself and inward shake as Dagon spoke. "Should we go tomorrow, then?" Dagon suggested. "It seems a bit late today... but like I said, I think it would be best to do something soon."

Jaric nodded in agreement. The was ending and the Aes Sedai were probably tired. It would be better to wait until the next day when they have refreshend and would be able to help Dagon more than they could now. "Tomorrow is fine with me, Dagon."

Jaric glanced over at Jakob, but the man seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. He left him alone and took off his boots. Just as he set his boots down by his chest, a knock came to the door. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jakob jump, obviously startled by the sudden noise. Jaric waked over to the door and opened it carefully. There stood a young woman with her hair dun in a Saldean bun. She held a tray with three plates covered by a white cloth, a silver pitcher that gave off the smell of spiced wine, and a basket of soft, warm bread.. Jaric let her in and she set the tray on a small table and left without a word.

Jaric twitched the cloth back from one of the plates and grinned at what the plate held. Thick slices of beef were covered in a dark gravy. There were roasted potatoes and and ice peppers off to the side. Jaric grabbed two plates and two forks. He handed a plate and fork to Dagon and sat down on his bed and ate. Jakob continued to sit in the chair next to the table. The man was like a lump on a log.

He didn't let Jakob's mood get to him, however. After one bite of the beef and potato Jaric was lost in memory with the tastes and smells. In no time at all he was wiping the last of the gravy with the end of a piece of bread and drinking the last of the spiced wine that was in his cup. He set the plate, cup, and fork off to one side and laid back onto the bed with contentment. He would sleep good tonight.

[Robert]

Jakob looked rather gloomily at the food. The other two men had gone to bed, already sound asleep... at least he was decently sure they had. The last candle he had left light burned low now, the flame a dull orange glow. He glanced around the room again.

He had an uneasy sensation in his stomach... He felt watched. Something, he felt, was sure to jump at him soon. He glanced suspiciously at the dark rectangle of the door in the wall... And nothing was there. His eyes wandered over to the window–

There. A raven, perched on the sill just outside. Behaving most... oddly... It regarded him with small black eyes. Peering at the people inside the room.

He moved towards it, oddly drawn.

It bobbed its head up and down, staring at him with beady eyes. As he drew closer, he felt sick for a second–then his heart began to thump in his chest. Pulse racing, he felt wind in his hair where there was no wind. The room sharpened around him, and he could see everything so clearly now... He reached out for the raven, reaching, reaching...

It cawed loudly. “Shut up!” he seethed, hissing at it–furious–and it burst into flame. In a second, only ash remained on the sill, a small pile that softly blew away with the wind.

“–the hell?”

He whirled, cloak swaying about him. Jaric looked at him with sleepy eyes.

“Go to bed, I’ll tell you in the morning,” he muttered. He couldn’t tell wether his companion heard or not, but in only a few moments, Jaric’s breathing was even again with the rhythm of sleep.

Jakob sighed as he looked mournfully towards the food. It was likely stone cold by now.

Tension released, he walked over to the vague, dark image of the food, and was suddenly acutely aware of how dim the room was. On the way, he took a small candle from his pack, and touched it to the dim candle’s wick. It flared with surprising brightness, the room thrown into stark clarity again, and then faded to it’s usual light.

He extinguished the old candle and took a loaf of uneaten bread over to his bed, carrying the candle in a pewter holder. He reached inside his pack that somehow had survived his adventures thus far, and took out an old book, When the Cold Wind Blew. Opening the text carefully, he leafed over to a yellowed page and began to read.

It was surely a tremendous sight, those hundreds of banners, of old houses and new, floating in the dawn rays of the sun. It had finally come down to one, final battle, the False Dragon against Artur Hawkwing. And we were not assured of victory, no, not at all...

As the cavalry leapt towards each other to meet that day, and the foot marched in for the kill, there were two that fateful day whose fates were singled out. Two of the most powerful personalities of the day, two of the greatest captains of the day.

These two were, of course, Artur Hawkwing and Guaire Amalasan.

Accompanied by a bodyguard of Aes Sedai, Artur Hawkwing made his way for the blue banner of the Aes Sedai symbol with full force, for there he would meet Amalasan. In seconds, the famous False Dragon was fighting with the best Aes Sedai of the age, a battle of the One Power of epic proportions. But this, unfortunately for the False Dragon, was entirely against him.

Outnumbered and overpowered, he was shielded, and forced to surrender to captivity.

And thus the great general was no more... An age was no more... And Artur Hawkwing started his rise to great heights.

Now how, exactly, does this bode for the future? Will the real Dragon Reborn be gentled before he even has the chance to fight the Dark One?

There is little hope on this front; the Red Ajah in particular seems intent on hunting down and killi–

Jakob stopped reading, his heart thumping. His eyes raced around the room.

Forcibly relaxing, he took a few deep breaths and quieted. He extinguished the candle, set the book down, and fell asleep the instant his head met the cushion.

But his dreams were not pleasant that night.

[Tony]

Jaric eased the swords strapped onto his back. He carefully drew both of them, as to not make a sound. A faint whisper could be heard from the steel leaving the leather, but that was all. Still crouching, Jaric carefully walked to edge of a small building. A small gust of wind ruffled his top knot and brought the faint shouts from men and Trolloc dying. Jaric paid no mind to sound of death. He had lived with it a long time.

The sounds of boots and hoofs came from up the street. Jaric would have assumed it were men if not for the sound of talons scraping on stone. Trollocs were coming and Jaric meant to keep them from advancing any further. He glanced behind him at the few men that remained under his command. There were a dozen of them all together and perhaps fifty Trollocs, maybe a Fade. The odds seemed good to Jaric. He nodded to his men and they came streaming out of the alleyway shouting various battle cries. The Trollocs were thrown off by their sudden charge, but it did not last long. They had managed to kill perhaps five before they realized what happened.

With the grace of a cat, Jaric moved from stance to stance. Slashign here, stabbing there, blocking a spear or a sword. Death flowed from the edges of his blades. Where they met a Trolloc screamed and fell to the ground. It seemed like no time at all he was left standing in the middle of the street. Three of his men where killed and four were severly wounded. It was just the five of them now.

A shrill scream sounded overhead and a Drakhar flew above the roof tops. Just as soon as the scream sounded dozens of arrows flew from various spots, all hitting their intended target. The creature of the Shadow fell to the ground. Jaric smiled a grim smile. At least there were still men aboud, somewhere.

He gathered his men and trotted down the street looking for more Trollocs. Men joined him at various spots and soon his number went from five to thirty. They all trotted along, up and down the streets. A group broke off by an inn to chase down a Fade. Arrows had pelted the eyeless body and swords stabbed with a fierce determination. When you messed with a Shienarian, they did not go down easily.

After hours of fighting it was done. The city was saved from another Trolloc attack. Men gathered in the center of the city and shouted for victory. Jaric shouted along side them. Rank did not matter much when you have just driven back a horde of Shadowspawn. The women and children came out of the safe house, rejoicing with the men. There was laughter and crying. Anger and resentment. And in all of it, Jaric stood in the middle of it.

Something made Jaric want to look up at the sky. He turned slowly and saw a figure. He didn't have enough time to actually see what it was, but it swooped down at him. With a shout he raised up his arms and . . .

". . . what the hell?!" he said. He blinked in surprise. He was laying in his bed at the Borderlander. Jakob was standing up staring at him. It was barely a whisper, but Jaric thought he heard Jakob say, "Go to bed, I’ll tell you in the morning,"

Jaric closed his eyes trying to forget his dream. In no time at all he was sleeping again, dreaming other dreams he would not understand.

[Tony]

Sunlight streamed through the one window in the room and awoke Jaric. He opened one eye a little bit and closed it quickly. Groaning, he rolled over on his side and tried to get back to sleep. After a couple of fruitless minutes, he decided to get out of bed. He groaned again as he sat up and stretched muscles that had knotted in his back. He looked around the room and noticed that Dagon and Jakob must have all ready left for breakfast.

Breakfast. Jaric grinned at the idea of a nice hearty Borderlander breakfast. And a bath! It had been awhile since he had a nice bath, too. Jaric stretched once more as he stood up, making sure all the muscles were nice and loose. He strode over to his chest that was at the foot of the bed and grabbed his swords. As he was strapping them to his back, he walked out of his room and into the hallway. He walked down the hallway and to the stairway. Entering the common room he looked around again. Borderlander furniture and decorations were all over. He also noticed that the serving girls hair styles were different too.

Jaric spotted Dagon and Jakob sitting together at a table off to one side. He walked over and sat down in a chair. A serving girl came up behind him and set down a plate full of eggs, sausages, porridge, and bread. She also set down a big glass of milk to go with it. Jaric dug in right away savoring the spices in the eggs and sausages. The sweetness of the porridge. And the softness of the bread. After consuming all of the food on his plate he looked up at Dagon and Jakob. Both looked a little glum, like they had to do something they really didn't want to. It must have been the prospect of going to the White Tower and meeting the Aes Sedai.

Jaric leaned back in his chair and rested his hands behind his head waiting for the other two. Their plates still held most of their food and Dagon was only pushing his around on his plate with a fork. Sighing Jaric asked, "Dagon, what's the matter? I thought you'd be happier than this to get your leg Healed. You look as though you're going to go meet the Dark One to play a game of stones and you know right away you're going to lose."

[Robert]

Jakob had woken first–as usual. He was always the last one to bed and first one to rise... He had trouble sleeping these days... It probably wasn’t that good for his health, but what could one do?

Somehow, he ended up at the table in the common room of the inn–and of course Jaric walked in with a grin on his face. Burn him... What gives him the right to be so bloody happy? he thought malevolently. After a few seconds, he sighed and let the emotion go. There was only hypocrisy in envying another individual for his emotions. Jakob’s emotions were his, and his alone, to control.

He sighed, and looked down at his food. A bit of egg was gone from the plate. That was odd. He never ate the eggs... He snorted softly and took a huge chunk of bread, stuffing it in his mouth and wolfing it down. He looked down again. All the sausages were gone, the bread eaten... But the eggs had only a bit taken out of them, and the porridge was liable to be as cold as frozen piss by now.

He sighed again. He really ought to eat this, despite how much he disliked food... But then, the eggs looked like congealed cheese mixed with lord knows what, and probably tasted like the marble it vaguely resembled. He lay down his fork with a soft clatter, and now merely contemplated the food.

He sat like that for quite a long time, not moving. He was thinking... Mulling over the previous night’s sleep in his head. There was so much that had happened, even before he went to bed. And his dreams had not been pleasant. An odd shiver passed over him and his head whipped around so quickly it cracked his neck. Wincing, he looked back... and saw nothing.

He chuckled silently, nervously, to himself. You’re getting paranoid, you maniac.

All the same, his right hand slowly fell to rest on the pommel of his buckled sword, even as his left supported his head and he looked at the food.

When Jaric talked, it startled him, his head snapping up.

"Dagon, what's the matter? I thought you'd be happier than this to get your leg Healed. You look as though you're going to go meet the Dark One to play a game of stones and you know right away you're going to lose."

Jakob laughed softly to himself. Dagon had seemed rather edgy today, hadn’t he? But then, so was he, and he wasn’t even going into the White Tower for any particular reason...

Well, he had had a reason before. But that...

That reason died. he thought. I was... I was... Coming here for a reason, certainly. I wanted to... To be healed of this madness... But I never... I can’t just do that... They keep them around until they die, don’t they? I won’t ever do that, no. This source of power is unknown, but I’ll do my best to keep control. I’m not going to be gentled, though...

Suddenly he found himself on the floor, trying to retch up whatever was left of his last meal. His eyes swam with colors and his stomach clenched repeatedly.

“Blood–” he retched again. “And bloody Ash–”

He threw up the remnants of a bit of egg on the floor.

[Victor]

Dagon picked at his food. He was hungry, sure, but not in the mood to eat. His thoughts kept drifting to what would happen later in the day, at the White Tower. And as he thought about it, the young man privately acknowledged that he was right to ask to go to the White Tower today -- if they waited any longer, he might let his nerves get the better of him and decide against going at all.

"Dagon, what's the matter? I thought you'd be happier than this to get your leg Healed. You look as though you're going to go meet the Dark One to play a game of stones and you know right away you're going to lose."

Despite Dagon's nervousness, a smile crossed his face upon hearing his friend's words. He supposed that Jaric was right -- he was feeling nervous, and uncertain about what would happen at the White Tower. "Have you ever been -- " Dagon began, but his question was interrupted as Jakob fell to the floor retching.

The young man wrinkled his nose as Jakob threw up bits of his breakfast onto the floor, but his disgust did not get in the way of his urge to help. "Here you go," Dagon said, getting up from his seat and helping Jakob to his feet. He looked at Jaric. "Should we take him to a room?" The Borderlander nodded, and stepped forward to assist Dagon with his load.

[Robert]

Supported by Dagon and Jaric, Jakob made it to his room... Though he didn’t know why. His mind had completely blanked in the past few moments, and his thoughts were only of the clenching nausea in his stomach.

Lying in bed, he looked about the room. It seemed to be blurry. He couldn’t see quite straight. And in front of him was the light. Just a light. Hovering.

He reached for the light... Reached for it, and suddenly his vision flared and blacked.