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Hi,

This is Ken Kofman, sending out yet another _As The Wheel Turns_
posting.  I suppose I should put some sort of copyright notice
on this, so here goes:

Copyright, Ken Kofman (c) 1994.  All rights reserved except for
those that Tor and Robert Jordan deserve, and except that anyone
who wants to copy this material may do so, so long it remains
unaltered, including this notice, and so long as no fees of
any kind are charged for its use.

In other words, enjoy it, show it to all your friends, be inspired
to run your own game, but since I'm not making any money off of
this, you shouldn't either.

I hope I did that right.

Anyway,

KenK        [e-mail]

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Psalm 137

By the rivers of Babylon,
there we sat, yea we wept
when we remembered Zion.

We hanged our harps
upon the willows
in the midst thereof.

For there, they that carried us away captive
required of us a song;
And they that laid us to waste required of us mirth, saying
Sing to us from the songs of Zion.

How shall we sing the Lord's song in a strange land?

If I forget thee, O Jerusalem,
let my right hand forget her cunning.

Let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth,
if I do not remember thee;
If I prefer not Jerusalem
above my chief joy.

Remember, O Lord, the children of Edom
on the Day of Jerusalem,
who said, Raze it! Raze it!
Even unto the foundation thereof!

O daughter of Babylon who art to be destroyed,
happy shall he be that rewardeth thee as thou has served us.

Happy shall he be that smasheth thy babies upon the rocks.



Creation

Nine Rods rule over all
Eight Ajah preserve and fall
Seven Ages of the Wheel
Six Bound to serve the dead
Five Flows create the Weave
Four Peoples born to live
Three Supports of all the worlds
Two Powers never to be whole
One Dragon on the winds of Time.


Summary of Session 7 of _As the Wheel Turns_  19-7-94

From the realm of the Aelfar did they return unto the
others, less only those that which they had given
unto the Aelfar in exchange for knowledge.  Even the
stone building called Ig'loo did return, and the
great box within did also return.

And when the companions were reunited they spoke
strange words one to the other.  They spoke of
covenants with foxes, and of the disappearing
Ig'loo, yet was little said.  For silent Akhel
and young Haemish did exchange a silent glance,
conspiring to agree upon leaving their dispute
unvoiced, if upon nothing else.

Yet not all were glad to return unto the lands of
men, for again did Phil feel the malevolence of the
forest all about him.  Again was their implacable
hatred hot against his spirit like a furnace, and
he did quail before that intensity.

But Akhel turned from the group and walked away.
His spirit felt unspoken torments, even as he
spoke words of unbelief.  Yet Keilyndra din Djanini
of the Atha'an Miere followed his steps until
Akhel at last did turn toward her and asked why
she followed.  And still Keilyndra din Djanini
say no auras about Akhel.

Bitter was Akhel's voice, yet did Keilyndra din Djanini
ask him to return unto the others who waited on his
behalf.  Keilyndra din Djanini also wondered at Akhel's
discomposure, for concern was writ large upon his face.
Her's were words of kindness and innocent youth, but
held the strength of oaken masts, and Akhel flinched
before her unspoken accusation.  Bitter words flowed
from Akhel then, about the world being not as it should,
and about how all of them would die before the Rods of
Dominion were restored, except perhaps for the Aiel
child, the sole remnant of their group.  Still did
Akhel return with Keilyndra din Djanini for all his
silent mistrust, and together they travelled.

Haemish, child of the Aiel, walked alongside the horses
even as they travelled, and the others marvelled at his
endurance and at his speed.  But this feat was nothing
to Haemish, for the terrain did not permit the horses
their full speed, yet could Haemish have run alongside.

And on the next day did Phil lead his fellows to an
ancient road, a road of no fewer years than Manetheren
itself, two thousand years gone.  On no map was this
road remembered, not even the one from which Phil read,
painstakingly drawn by Elaida Sedai of the Red Ajah from
her researches into Manetheren and the Nine Rods of
Dominion.

Thus was Phil surprised, and Jennifer and even Randy
Carter, all of Earth, for this road had been the equal
of any mountain road of their world, a thoroughfare
carved out of the mountains, and broad enough for any
passers by.  But no feet had walked upon this road
since the Trolloc Wars, since the foul spawn of the
Forsaken spilled forth from the Blight to ravage across
the nations of the world.  Dreadlords did lead these
blasphemous armies, bearing black banners that seemed
to shut out the very Light.

But wheresoever the battle was thickest, wheresoever hope
itself seemed to draw its last breath, there were the men
of Manetheren to be found, and there did they resist the
dark legions.  And so did the Dark One harbor a special
hatred for Manetheren and her people, and so was a special
revenge prepared, yet is that story told elsewhere.  The
Trolloc hordes were in the end destroyed or pushed back
into the Blighted Lands in utter disarray, yet was Manetheren
no more, forgotten even by the few descendants who remained.

The memory of Manetheren lived only in the books of scholars
and in the soul of the Borderland, and also in this road,
ravaged by two thousand years of time and more.

No longer could this road serve its original purpose, for
plants did grow here amidst the stone, and rocks had fallen
from the mountain heights, yet did this road serve these
travellers.

Two days they did travel upon this road of Manetheren
before the rains began.  For two days did the people
of Manetheren speak to them across the chasm of years.  Not
in the words of their mouths did they voice themselves, but
in the cunning of their hands they did speak.  For this
road of Manetheren was built for the eyes and for the
spirit, not only for carts and wagons.

The road assumed only a light grade as it left the valley floor.
Now did the travellers enter the mountains proper, the road
slowly turning north, then south, then east, but ever did the
road wind westward and toward the mountain peaks.  Every turn
of the road brought new wonders to steal one's very breath,
mountain panoplies to shatter the petrified heart, vistas
that spoke of the ineffable.  Almost, one could think, the
people of Manetheren carved this road through the Mountains
of Mist that people may travel upon it for pleasure alone,
if such a word can encompass the majesty of that high place.

Phil did compare the place in his mind to the great places of
his own world, places called Yellowstone and Yosemite, only on
not so insignificant a scale.  Yet were these Mountains raised
during the Breaking of the World by men who could channel the
One Power, who could channel saidin, tainted by the Dark One,
though some say the Dragon, even as the Dragon resealed the
Dark One in his prison, in Shayol Ghul, where the Creator
did imprison him in the very moment of Creation, that the
Shadow not reach out across the worlds and across the Pattern.

For three more days does the rain continue, a steady torrent of
water that damped the spirit and body, both.  In years past,
years without memory, this season was one of snow and ice, of
hail and blizzard, yet in this unaccustomed warmth did water
fall from the skies, and in the distance there was a rumbling,
but not of thunder.

Then did Haemish of the Aiel feel deep concern, though no fear
to which he would give voice, for he knew of mountains and of
rockslides and he feared this water that fell from the sky,
more water in three days than the Aiel Waste had seen in the
past three thousand.  So much water he had never before imagined,
yet was the possibility of mudslide obvious to him, born of
the treacherous Waste.

But understanding could help little when a sharp crack was heard
from above.  Still did few understand the doom soon to fall upon
them.  Thinking that a great foe approached did they scatter and
hide, yet to hide from a landslide is different from avoiding a
mortal foe.  But Haemish did find for himself appropriate shelter,
and Kei, in the last moment realizing her predicament, and even
Jennifer.

And after the rocks had ceased to slide and tumble, did Haemish
emerge, to search for his companions, even as the rains continued
to fall.  Kei he found first, uninjured yet panicked from the
ordeal.  Surely was the land less trustworthy and solid than
the ships of the Atha'an Miere!  Keilyndra din Djanini he bade
sit in one place, whilst he sought the others.  Jennifer too
he did find, in a narrow cave, yet it was clear that she had
dived into this place headlong, for she was hurt and unconscious.
But Haemish of the Taardad Aiel only turned her over that she
might not drown in the water and mud, pooling on the ground.

The young Aielman continued his search through the transfigured
landscape, finding Akhel after a time.  Akhel was soaked through
with water and caked with mud.  He wore scratches and light
injuries.  To Haemish it seemed as though Akhel had been caught
by the flow of rocks and mud, yet had picked himself when the
calamity had ended, as though nothing had happened.  And
Akhel was not alone, for he had found another man not of
their group trapped in an alcove behind fallen stones.  And this
man named himself to Akhel, calling himself Ulric Druss,
formerly a captain of Tear, yet did he speak as do the people
of Ilian, enemies of Tear.  Yet was this Ulric Druss in good
health, nor was he capable of leaving or hiding.  Then did
Haemish continue his search.  Auric also he did find, gravely
injured.  Haemish did that which he could, yet surely was
Auric in need of a Healer.  And still the rains did fall.

But Randy Carter could not be found, nor Phil.

And so it was, at this time, that Randy Carter did find herself
in Montreal, as she did find herself each night.  Randy Carter
stood before the Great Map, dripping muddy water onto the floor.
The people walk in deliberate haste toward the Trains and Lines
that will transport them to their mysterious destinations.  But
Randy Carter eschewed the Metro, as she has done every night
since learning the price she must pay to reach Unknown Kadath,
the End of the Line.  Instead does she ascend into the city
itself, of vast thoroughfares and immense buildings, toward
the Mercury Theatre, where Elaida Sedai of the Red Ajah did
teach her the ways of saidar, and Jennifer also did she teach.

Within the Mercury Theatre did Randy Carter remove her wet and
muddy coat, and sit down.  Her body shivered with a deep
inward chill, and breath came with great difficulty.  Surely
this chill was that of the grave, yet had Randy Carter no
true measure against which to compare.  And Elaida Sedai was
not in the Mercury Theatre, for this was not their time of
meeting.  Randy Carter did look upon herself in a looking
glass, and she did find herself scratched and bruised.  Still
was she cold, and each breath became an ever more difficult
feat.  Fear rose within her, yet did she raise saidar, and
channel flows of Air, that she might breathe easier.  And so
did it happen.  Then did Randy Carter relax, though still she
felt cold.

But Haemish did persist in his search for his companions, and he
did stumble over Randy Carter's pack upon the slippery ground.
The pack resisted Haemish's first tug, but then came free.  Extending
from the slippery ground Haemish saw a human hand.  Through that
hand did blood still flow, yet very slowly.  But Haemish gathered
those others who could help and together did they exhume Randy Carter
from the rock and from the mud.

And so it was, even as Randy Carter's companions did work slowly to
free her from her premature tomb, that Phil was in a different place
and time.  Never did he feel the impact of rock and mud, but his
garments bore testimony to his doom, even as he ran down a service
road in a Mirror of the Wheel that it's people call Earth, though
it bears no less Air, Water or Fire than the world we know.  And
in pursuit of Phil was a tree, taking long terrible strides.

For a moment did Phil think upon a fall into a nearby gorge, yet
would the tree sieze him before he attained the gorge, and visit
upon him a slow and painful death.  But a great fire blazed nearby,
tended by a man wearing dark, formal clothes and a white shirt.

Then did Phil look behind him at his immediate doom, and at the
blazing fire, and at Ishmael, waiting for him, knowing that Phil
will again join him.  Phil sat next to Ishmael.  No word of greeting
did he utter, only "It seems we meet again."

And they exchanged pleasant words, and again did Phil refuse
to bend knee to Ishmael and serve the Dark One.  And Ishmael
continued to speak in pleasant tones, yet were his words mocking.

"As you will. I hope you enjoy killing your friends, slowly.
The avalanche could very well be your fault, you know.
The Misty Mountains were created by men like you, going insane.
And suicide," Ishmael did shake his head in sadness, "That's
a mortal sin, you know.  For shame.  Not that suicide will help
you.  For the Great Lord of the Dark is the Lord of the Grave,
and in death you will serve him, whether you will or no.
But better to serve in life.  Better for you."

But Phil denied the truth of Ishmael's words, saying that life
surely holds more than serving the Dark One in death.  Surely
there is something more.

Yet did Ishmael look seriously at Phil, as though to a friend,
and answer, "Not for you. In the world, there is Light and there
is Dark.  A balance, if you will.  Predator and prey.  Nature
is like that.  And you, Phil, are not on the side of Light,
deny it as you will."

And still did Phil persist in his defiance.  "I beleive a man
can choose what side he is on...and I think there's some
truth to that otherwise you wouldn't ASK people to join you."

Then did Ishmael laugh merrily,  "Phil, I have lived for
thousands of years.   I've been around.  I asked because I
wanted to, knowing that you would refuse.  But you are tainted,
Phil, and you serve the Great Lord of the Dark - and me -
knowing or not.  But if you wish to writhe in the agony of
denying yourself, in the madness of spurning your nature, who
am I to stop you?  It won't help you any, Phil, or your friends.
But you can save them, Phil, if you choose."

Yet Phil did not understand Ishmael's meaning, when he spoke of
saving.  And so it was that Ishmael explained.  "Save them.
From dying.  The Great Lord of the Dark will give you their
lives as a token.  They will not die in agony and frustration.
You will not murder them, smiling in madness.  They will be safe.
Your nation, America, will not destroy itself.  You can do what
you want with it.  The GLotD is generous with those who serve him.
But otherwise," Ishmael shrugs, "they will all die, by your
doing. And still you will have worked my will, unknowing.  Choose!"

And Phil then drew his blade, and looked upon his hand.  "I may be
right, I may be wrong, but this I know, this simple song," he did
chant, even as Ishmael looked upon him as one already mad.  "That
long ago I made a vow, that what I reap is what I sow."  And then
did Phil deliberately cut his hand, letting blood drip out, cutting
not to damage his hand but to cause him pain, and Phil did scream.

"You sow foolishness, and shall reap madness!" Ishmael then accused.
"Enjoy!  You know where to find me."  And with a wave of his hand,
did he and his blazing fire vanish, even as the wind howled its
vengeance and the tree lurched into triumphant motion.  But Phil
did stand his ground, in prayer, yet did the tree know not his god, and
heed not his prayer.  The tree did take Phil up in its branches, and
pull upon each of his limbs, spreading Phil until he could twist no
more without incurring even more agony.

"Which one of them do you like best, Phil," did the tree ask of him,
but Phil did croak out in response that he likes them all equally.

"But who is your favorite," mocked the tree.

Then did Phil attempt a doing from which he had shied for many years.
Then did Phil focus his rage and his pain, drawing from untapped
stores, and he did deliberately attempt to summon that which on
Earth he called GreyLight.

And Ishmael appeared, a smile upon his face.  "Very good!" he did
approve.  "Now focus your anger on the tree."

But Phil hearkened not unto Ishmael.  Instead he did attempt push
away the tree, yet was he caught fast.  The tree pulled him a
small measure further apart, and Phil did scream.  But only for
a moment, for, heeding Ishmael's words did Phil burn the tree,
which bursts into flame, yet Phil is not hurt at all.

And in this fiery moment, did Phil first feel the breath of true
life.  Nothing in his prior existence had been of true reality,
not his triumphs nor his tragedies, nothing.  Once Phil did believe
he had felt love, yet that was as nothing before this moment.
The accomplishments, his awards of merit, the day he was acclaimed
as one who soared amongst the Eagles, all lacked true substance
compared to the life that did flow through Phil's veins.  The
unsullied sweetness of it!  As it burned did the tree release
Phil to fall on the ground, but he felt it not, surrounded by
a halo of ultimate glory.  Also were all the colors of the
world more bright, and the world did seem more sharp, more
crisp.  Women and victories there might have been, but now
were all forgotten.

With surest instinct did Phil reach for more life, for more
Power.  Ablaze with glory, Phil did test himself, trying to
fly, but could not.  Still did Ishmael assure him that with
study and practice, that too lay within reach.

And Phil looked upon Ishmael anew, tempted for the moment, by
the promise of life, true life.  And Phil did beseech of
Ishmael, that he might be returned unto his companions, that
he might consider Ishmael's offer.   And so did Phil find
himself again upon the mountainside, amidst the steady rain,
no longer holding saidin, no longer alive.  And Phil was
wet, cold and miserable.  Yet did a tree burn beside him
in a gout of flame, sending smoke unto the heavens.

And so did Phil's companions learn of his return, even as
they dug Randy Carter from an early grave.  And even as
she was being revived did Randy Carter awaken from Dream,
as though she had never been asleep.  But her arm was numb
with pain, and broken, her body weak.  And still did it rain.

And Ulric Druss also was freed from beneath the rocks, from
where he should have died, yet was he without injury, as
was Akhel, both of whom seemed to appreciate the other's
company.  And though there was little dry wood to be found,
yet did Kei use the tree that Phil did burn for kindling,
and she did find a cave that Jennifer, Randy Carter and
Auric not remain amidst the falling rain.  But few of the
horses could be found, and those had been killed.