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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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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 9 of _As the Wheel Turns_  26-7-94

Thus began the new day, shrouded in mist and a drizzling
rain, yet preferable was this by far to the constant torrent
of water from the sky that had prevailed for many a day.  And
so it was that each from amongst these brave companions looked
to his own situation, yet was this predicament shared to
some measure by all those gathered in this place.  For neither
Jennifer nor Auric had fully recovered from their injuries,
yet would Randy Carter need to Heal Auric of his arm that he
may use it during the coming days, for his was an injury healed
best by time.

Yet did Keilyndra Din Djanin try her skill with her blade, curved
according to the manner of the Atha'an Miere, against the Blademaster
Ulric Druss, and she learned much upon that morning.  And the
others looked to the ransacked cabin for supplies.  And as they
did seek, so they did find, for whosoever laid this place into
disarray found it unseemly to remove any of its contents, save
of those of which no word has been spoken.  With full provisions
had this place been stocked, yet were they for one person only.
Much food was there for one man, yet were there many in this place,
even unto ten.  And few additional garments, furs or blankets were
there to stand in place of those lost.  Much equipment intended for
use amongst the highest peaks were no longer, and this cabin contained
little to serve in their stead.

But those who knew of such things did take heart, in the sure belief
that the arduous, now perilous journey into the heart of these
mountains could succeed.  For the child Haemish of the Taardad Aiel
had been born in the Waste where nothing can long endure, yet have
his people dwelt in that forbidding place for generations beyond
memory.  And Keilyndra Din Djanin of the Atha'an Miere, most skilled
of her people in the ways of the land, she too feared not for herself
or for her companions, and even Telas the Warder, new to this
company, flinched not before the prospect of enduring the heights,
the cold and air that satisfies not the lungs.

Then did they depart from the hidden cabin, yet did they not know
who had built it in this remote place, nor did they know who had
disturbed it.  On this day did the Mountains of Mist manifest
their true nature, for the clouds hung low.  And for but
moments, did the mists part to enhance the splendor of this
place, of the ancient forests and crags of Manetheren.  But the
mists prevailed save for those few moments, and one could not
see a great distance, not even from an edge of the ancient road
to its center.  Difficult was this road to travel.  Great had it
been two thousand years in the past, and great was it still, save
for the rocks and boulders than had fallen upon it, and the
plants that had found a place to grow, and the dust of ages,
borne by wind and storm.  Only in it's ribbonlike width could
it be known as a road, yet did the ease of travelling upon it
far exceed that of venturing into the forest itself, and the
trees which bore Phil great enmity.

And after some time had passed, even drawing toward midday, did
Keilyndra Din Djanin and Akhel, both adept in the art of scouting
did find themselves in agreement that the company was being
followed, yet was evidence of a silent pursuer lacking.  Backward
along their route did they search, cloaked in mist and silence,
for they would find whosoever crept in their wake, yet was nothing
found.  And so they returned unto the others without having
achieved their purpose, but sure in their forebodings.  Almost certain
were they of having seen, for but a moment, a dark and shadowed
figure, yet could they not be sure.

Now did the company travel in slow deliberation, filled with
fear of an unknown and silent enemy, yet would even the most
honest and forthright among them dismiss his fear as caution.
Then was a clear sound of metal striking against something heard
through the quiet, from a distance, and those not strangers
to war knew it for the sound of mail against stone.  And Ulric Druss,
once captain of Tear who had forsaken his proud position and the
endless war against his kin in Ilian for a lonely quest, then
realized the fell purpose of those who did hound his footsteps
and those of his companions.  For the great captain is not he
who wins the most battles, but he who wins the war with the
least bloodshed.

Beyond the mists was an enemy who also possessed this knowledge.
Without raising blade, that foe did already strike fear into the
hearts of these travellers.  Without revealing his strength did
he cause these companions to spend owntheir strength and endurance
in endless searching and anxious peering into the blinding mists.
Without showing his true purpose did he impede this company from
their own, for their careful vigiliance did further slow their
progress.  Most cunning was this fell scheme, for Ulric knew that
should their vigilance ever falter, then would his enemy emerge
from hiding to win an easy battle, yet should they spend their
strength seeking an enemy that would not show, still would utter
defeat be the only conclusion.

And so it was that Ulric Druss, once captain of Tear did cease
his travel, in a place he deemed easily defended.  Keilyndra Din
Djanin, Akhel and Haemish did he set to scout at a distance, even
as he prepared for battle.  And Randy Carter did spend herself,
that the others feel not the weariness of their journey, yet could
she not do so on her own behalf, and Akhel did not submit to her
ministrations.

And even as the day drew onward, still was there no attacker.  But
Telas was certain of a dark and implacable foe, for he did notice
the unmistakable presence of minions of the Dark Ones.  Much, it
is said, is gained by Warders through their bond to an Aes Sedai,
not least is the ability to know the foul presence of the Dark One's
minions, though not with great precision.

Then did Akhel decide upon a course of action, to return unto the
cabin along the path that they had taken, to discover what he might
find in wait along the road and in the cabin.  For little did escape
Akhel's silent perusal, and his perusal extended further than his
words.  And so it was, much later, that Akhel turned from the cabin,
after having found no disturbance there, or upon their route, that
he was confronted by a figure shrouded in a dark cloak, and his
laughter had the sound of crumbling leather, as he regarded Akhel.

Beneath that withering scorn did Akhel flinch backward, yet did
he face this enemy with the same calm that he bore toward all
that had befallen him, noting aloud that there truly had been
an unknown follower.  Again did the inky figure laugh.  And when
Akhel asked of him his name and purpose the Myrddraal laughed
once more, lowering his hood to reveal his terrible visage.  Even
in the Borderlands where the war against the Shadow is an
overwhelming reality, and where brave men face its horrors with
familiar contempt, it is said that the gaze of the Eyeless is Fear
itself, for the Myrddraal lack eyes though their senses be keener
than most men.  But Akhel did not flinch before this fearsome
presence, nor did fear numb his spirit.  For he did look into
the eyeless face of the Myrddraal, the sluglike misshapen
putrefescence that served instead of a face, and now did he
mock the Myrddraal, admitting that he should follow someone
who can heal his deformity.

With a serpent's grace did the Myrddraal bare his weapon, a dark
blade forged in Thrakandar itself, if the tales hold true, and
the Myrddraal did hold his anger, unused to the lack of fear,
but no less deadly, no less terrible a foe.  Approaching Akhel
did the Myrddraal assure him that soon his sense of humor
would be permanently repaired, yet did Akhel avoid the Myrrdraal
with equal grace, throwing daggers with killing accuracy, yet
was the Myrdraal only scratched.  But Akhel lunged past the
Myrddraal, running even as if his very life depended upon speed,
for Akhel knew that it did.  In dire pursuit did the Myrddraal
follow, and foul Trollocs did join in the chase at its silent
command.

Long did Akhel run, returning to his companions, bringing
with him the enemy they had sought, though they knew it not.
With ragged breathing did Akhel run, not stopping even to
count his pursuers in the concealing mists, for he did know
them to be more numerous than he.  And when he drew nigh
unto the place where Ulric had arranged for a defense,
then did he blow upon the horn given to him by Phil, and
all knew that battle was forthcoming.

And so it was that the foul Trollocs burst forth into the
encampment, urged forward by bloodlust unquenchable and
by the Myrdddraal behind them.  Tall did the Trollocs
stand, even as tall as Ogiers, head and shoulders above
even the mightiest of warriors.  Their bestial aspect did
attest to the foulness of their creation, sprouting horns
fangs and muzzles in different and disturbing combinations.
Howling in their incomprehensible dark tongue did they
rush forward, brandishing swords and polearms, each according
to its nature.

The foul Myrddraal, not least of the evil creations of the Dark
One and the Forsaken, was as a force unto itself, deadly in
its skill.  Carefully did Telas the Warder aim and then let
loose an arrow toward the Myrddraal, yet did the Myrddraal
avoid the attempt as though it never was.  With determination
did Phil attempt to raise saidin, tainted by the Dark One,
though some say the Dragon, during the War of Power that brought
the Age of Legends to a close.  Anger, Phil had learned, was
the surest path to saidin.  Thus had he consumed a tree in
terrible flames under the direction of Ishmael.  Yet could he
not muster the fiery rage to bring destruction upon the Trollocs
and upon the Myrddraal, for the baleful gaze of the Myrddraal
reduced him to abject terror, and he did cringe before its
foulness.  And so it was that the Dark One's foul minions
did engage these weary companions, battered by rain and crushed
by rock.

Yet were they met by a grim defense.  For Ulric Druss quenched
his fear and ventured forth to engage the Myrddraal on his
own, for the Myrddraal are cunning adversaries with foul
grace and the uncanny fortune of their dark master.  Great was
the Myrddraal's skill, yet that of Ulric Druss was by far the
greater.  But the oppressive fear of the Myrddraal worked its
way into Ulric's heart, undermining his skill and resolve, and
the Myrddraal did not die under his assault, yet was it sorely
pressed.

And Keilyndra Din Djanin of the Atha'an Miere ran forward into
battle like the sharks of the sea who know nothing of caution.
And so it was that she did engage eight Trollocs, and they did
cease their progress toward the others, toward Randy Carter who
fought not in battles, toward Auric, still unhealed of his
injured arm and toward the gracious and noble scholar, Selene.
Then did Keilyndra Din Djanin's thoughts turn from attack
toward defense of her own person.  Like a dolphin at play did
she duck and dodge among the foul Trollocs sure of easy prey,
yet was she in most desparate straits.  With all her strength
did she parry the crushing blows that did threaten to overwhelm
her slender defense.  Though Jennifer had brought forth her
ter'angreal, forged in the distant Mirror of the Wheel called
Earth, the ter'angreal called Nine Millimeter Semi Automatic
Pistol, still did Keilyndra fight alone, for even as Jennifer
did bring down one Trolloc after a time, yet was she sparing
with her efforts, for she wished not mistakenly to slay her
companion with her ter'angreal, and also did she know that soon
would her ter'angreal function no longer upon this world.

Armed with no weapon suited for battle, Akhel did hurl his last
daggers amongst the Trollocs, piercing one between layers of mail.
Yet did Akhel see that such fortune could not be relied upon
even once, let alone twice, though his skill was great.  For
Akhel was not a man to rely upon fortune, upon the Light or the
Dark, or upon aught unmanifest.

But Telas did set aside his bow, and he did make his way toward
the Trollocs who beset Keilyndra Din Djanin.  Now did the Trollocs
face another opponent, and even better versed in the bloody art
of combat.  Mustering his courage did Akhel also charge forward,
brandishing his daggers, that he might at least divert the Trollocs'
foul attention from Keilyndra Din Djanin, whose defense had
already begun to falter.

But Ulric Druss saw only the onrushing Trollocs that did seem
to overwhelm Keilyndra Din Djanin like a dark tide.  Setting
aside his fear did he redouble his attack against the Myrddraal,
to end its foul existence for this turn of the Wheel and turn
his blade toward the hulking Trollocs.  With skill and uncanny
fortune did the Myrddraal cheat its doom, yet could not so long
prevail.

And so it was, even as the companions had joined together to
attack the Trollocs and relieve the beleagred maiden of the
Atha'an Miere, did Ulric Druss's blade strike down the Myrddraal,
and it did flail upon the ground with misspent force.  Then
did the Trollocs also desist from their attack, for they had
been linked to the Myrddraal through dark cunning, their
insignificant intellects linked to the Myrddraal's dark mind.
Bestupored did they fall to the ground to be dispatched.

Then was their attention turned toward finding a new place to
encamp for the night, a place unbefouled by Trolloc or Fade.
And Ulric Druss, Blademaster and once captain of Tear did speak
words of apology to Telas, who had fought with skill almost
unto his own, if only briefly, for that was the way of his
heart, to be opened unto his comrades in battle.  And Telas did
accept the word of Ulric Druss, saying that perhaps their chance
meeting was to a purpose, a design woven into the pattern by the
Wheel of Time.

And as they set foot toward a new place of resting, and in preparing
their camp according to the intent of Ulric Druss, once captain of
Tear, the companions did speak of many things.  And Phil did beseech
Ulric Druss to speak of the flame and the void, which Ulric did
invoke within to enhance his concentration.  And Phil did attempt
to gain the void through the flame, yet is this not attained in a
day.  And Randy Carter did weave Healing flows about and within
Auric's arm, and then was she spent.

Thus did the sun set hidden amonst the mists and fogs of the mountain
heights, and sleep did overtake all of the company, save those who
each in turn stood in careful vigilance.

And then did the new day dawn for all, save Phil of Earth.

For Phil did find himself in a new and terrible place, a vast plain
of slag, crushed rock and bitter salt, even as the sun did large and
red rise above the horizon.  Naked of clouds was the sky.  Already
did Phil feel upon his skin the dry heat of this place, even as this
wrathful day dawn, as it had done in Ages past and shall again dawn
in Ages to come.

Neither to the right nor to the left, before him or behind, was there
a place of refuge from the sun, still ruddy with the dawn.

And Phil did look about himself but knew not where he was.  For his
world, his home, his place called Earth had many desolate places, and
now did Phil know that his world was one of many.  Yet did Phil know
this place, that this place was not new to him.  In his pocket lay
a map of this desolate waste, even marked by his own hand with the
place where he stood.  But the map brought much despair and little
hope, for the nearest shade lay two days in the future.  Without
food, without water, without equipment of any kind, little future
could Phil see for himself, save his own death within the day.

Yet if this was his doom, to die in a strange land, would he meet
it standing upon his feet, taking step after step until mere flesh
failed.  And so it was that time took new meaning upon itself,
measured in the slow rise of the sun into the blue cauldron of sky,
measured by each stumbling step along the rough ground below, and
measured by the breath of air within, each hotter than the one
before.

Then did the world reduce itself to its fundamentals, the broken
rock below and the terrible Light above.  Once, in a comfortable
chamber cooled by the mysterious ter'angreal of the people of Earth,
did Phil listen to the teaching of a wise man who spoke of surviving
in a place like this.  And the man spoke of many precautions to  be
taken while awaiting succor, yet did Phil now realize that he had not
the tools to take such action, and that he could expect no rescue.

His skin baked by the terrible blaze of the sun, his lips parched
and bleeding, his throat parched and his mind numbed by the seering
furnace of rock and sky, Phil knew his death was soon upon him.
Thinking himself in Dream, and remembering the stories of Jennifer
and Randy Carter, did he imagine for himself a drink, cool and wet,
yet was Phil not a Dreamer, nor could he know himself in Dream for
certain.  For in this time and in this place there was no drink
to be had, neither warm or cold, unless Phil embraced madness,
the madness of the desert wherein all things can be seen but never
had.  Far easier would that death be than the one that awaited him
not a single day distant.

But once did Phil stand forward and swear an oath to do his best,
and by his honor he did swear this oath.  Never before had Phil
betrayed his word, nor would he do so now.  Thus did continue,
each step a trial of strength and a test of endurance long gone.

Until finally with the very last of his being did he unbow his
head and cease his trudging, for if he would fall over and die,
then first would he look up unto the heavens from whence his
death did come, and then fall, dead, but unbowed.  And so it was
that in the distance yet not too far, did Phil behold a great
wonder.  For there, alone in this wilderness did there grow a
vast oak tree.  The leaves of that tree were broad and green,
and its branches did extend outward from its great trunk.  By
such a tree surely would shade and water be found, and life
itself.  No evil intent did this tree bear Phil.

Then did Phil drag himself across the rock and sand and salt,
unto the comforting shade of the oak, and a small pond of
water that brought much needed comfort.  Time itself was no
longer, beneath the tree, beside the pond, for time was a
slave to the sun arching across the heavens, measured by
labored breath and travel.  Here was Phil protected from
all the ravages of time.

And so it was perhaps moments, perhaps eternities later that
Phil did know himself not alone in this place of life.  For
a voice did Phil hear, a voice not unknown to him, and in a
gentle, protective tone did that voice speak.

"There is something to be said for Shadow, don't you think?"

Against the bole of the tree did Ishmael sit, regarding Phil.
And still was Phil weakened from his ordeal, though no longer
staggering across Death's threshold.  Yet did he defy Ishmael,
and not fully acknowledge his question, though the sun now
did descend below the horizon, bringing cool darkness to
comfort Phil, still burned from the sun.

But Ishmael would not be denied, and asked Phil to speak of
his world and his beliefs.  And Phil spoke of his love
for the Creator, a being of Truth and Life manifest in all
of creation.  And Phil declared his love for the Creator
to be greater than life itself.

And Ishmael responded,  "Of course, of course. Nothing else
would be proper.  Come with me, and let us look upon Creation.
Is there a particular city you love?  A particular place?"

Though Phil did not trust Ishmael, yet did Ishmael assure
Phil that he would do nothing untoward.  And so it was that
Phil named a place, the top of a great mountain in one
of the Groves of his people.

But Ishmael said, "Ishmael says, "That is a pretty place,
but I don't think that would work.  A city would be best,
I think.  Or should I pick it?"

Then did Phil pause in uncertainty and consternation, for
he understood not Ishmael's intent yet did he fear it, nor
did he know whether to choose a city or to leave the decision
to Ishmael.  Better to choose.  "Rome?"  But still he
was uncertain, and curious.

And Ishmael laughed in friendship.  "Rome it is, then.  I've
never been there, Phil, but the place has outgrown it's seven
hills.  Still, we should be able to get a good view.  Come."

And so it was that Phil found within himself the strength to
stand beside Ishmael and even follow, for he had been refreshed
by the time spent beneath the tree.  Together they did travel
through the cool and pleasant night, every step traversing
leagues of distance, until Ishmael stops and sits himself upon
a grassy hillside, even as the sky begins to brighten with yet
another day.

Below Phil was the city Rome arrayed in all its magnificence.
Ancient was this city, and much had it seen.  Once it had
been the greatest city of Phil's world, two thousand years
before Phil was born.  Once was Rome the center of the world.
It was said that all roads led unto this city, even as Phil
and Ishmael found themselves just outide its precincts.  In
later years, after the empire that gave this city birth had
fallen, still was this city considered by many the center of
all that is great and important.  Some loved Rome and its
ways, while others despised her as one would a harlot.  Some
held Rome to be the center of Light, while others saw only
within her impenetrable Dark.  But through much of the history
of Phil's world and Phil's people, there was none to deny that
Rome and that for which she stood was at the center of all
things.  The remnants of this cities ancient grandeur remained
for Phil to behold.  In centuries gone by were magnificent
edifices erected in this place, for purposes noble and fell,
and they were built without the One Power, nor were they
constructed through the cunning arts of the people of Earth.
Also was there a great city of the present in Rome, still
great though no longer considered among the greatest of the
cities of Earth.  Also was it said that Rome was not built
in a day, and two thousand five hundred years of history
remembered in rock, brick and steel did attest to this truth.
And the sun rose above the horizon, casting the city in
its most wondrous aspect.

"What do you think, Phil?"

"Very impressive."

And Ishmael frowned.   "Impressive? Is that all?"

"er...magnificent?"

Then did Ishmael shake his head in sadness, even as the Light
descended upon the city and consumed it utterly.  And Phil
did look upon the light, and in his heart he named it a
Thermonuclear Explosion.  Above the burning ruins did a cloud
rear itself in the shape of a vast mushroom.  Surely should
Phil have died, or been stricken blind, yet did he feel only
a warm breeze waft forth from what once was Rome.

And Phil regarded the city, and saw that it was not.  A single
tear began to form in Phil's eye, even as Ishmael waited for
him to speak.  Finally did Phil find for himself words.
"Ishmael, you have been very polite, and very civil...but you've
proved your point.  You are very powerful...certainly more powerful
than I; but I am afraid that you just answered any doubt I
had in my mind whatsoever.  There is no way, in any form, in
any degree, in any shadow of a degree that I will ever serve you.
I may go mad, I may kill all of my friends, but at least I will
die with the satisfaction that I didn't say yes to your previous question."

"I don't think you understand, Phil.  I didn't do that.  You
and your Light did."

But Phil would have none of Ishmael's words.  "I don't belive you."

Then did Ishmael sigh, as though he had been patient beyond
endurance yet was he patient still.  "If it were my objective
to destroy, and I could do this, I wouldn't be here with you,
I don't think.  I would be blasting worlds and galaxies into
oblivion. If I wanted your soul, Phil, I wouldn't be so...
forthright with you.

"You would never see my power.  You would fall in love with me,
and blindly agree to my every word, after a time.  Deceiving the
good is easy.  That's not my purpose.  But if a single tear is
all you can shed for mighty Rome, then perhaps you are useless to
me after all.  Your heart has hardened.  Go, kill off your friends.
You have a new world to destroy, as you have done for this one."

With anger did Phil protest the word of Ishmael.  For he said that
he shed but a single tear for he believed not that this was truly
Rome, but a phantasm created by Ishmael to frighten him, and that
were this truly Rome, still could he have done nothing to stop it.

But Ishmael despised Phil and his weak words, for he knew that Phil
had once cried long and hard over the death of his wife, though
he could not have stood in the way of that, whereas Rome he could
save, would he but listen.  Then did he banish Phil from before him,
and Phil returned to his slumber.

And in the morning, even as the companions did prepare to continue
upon their journey, did Phil strive to reach the void through the
flame.  Long and hard did he strive in his madness and despair,
though it is said that the void cannot be grabbed or wrestled with
like a bear, or even like saidin, male portion of the One Power
tainted by the Dark One, though some say the Dragon, during the
War of Power that brought the Age of Legends to its close.

But finally did Phil purge himself of all that he was, and for
a moment gained the void, consuming all that he was in the flame
of his mind.  Yet upon returning from that place did he find that
much time had passed.  Happy was he to have achieved his desire,
yet had he again assumed all that he was, for the void has no
power in its own right, nor can one leave within it that which
one has brought in.