The city of Tar Valon lay quiet, the two forks of the river surrounding the shining isle flowing slowly down, as if it had fallen asleep in the cool night breeze. City patrols marched up and down the street, but there was hardly ever need for them. There was little crime in Tar Valon, for the Aes Sedai punished those caught of thievery and murder in terrible ways that changed a man. Once released, they hardly ever stayed on the island,fleeing off into the world, never wanting to see a woman with shawl and ring again. The taverns still had men spending their pay on wine and food, but they were slowly clearing out, men stumbling back to homes or inns or ships, eager to join the city in slumber and prepare for another day. This was the case throughout the city, except for one small place. In the north harbor, under the guise of moonlight, several men were working diligently at the docks, doing their best to escape notice and complete their business before morning.

 

Marc Shansa cast a wary eye over the men clamoring over the boat which had silently pulled into the north harbor. He had been waiting all night for it to come in, had sweated and worried over what might happen if he were to get caught in this operation. The captain had been late, only by an hour or so, but in this business an hour could be the difference between success and failure. He ran his fingers through his short blond hair. The usual night watchmen and customs man was sleeping softly in bed, a heavy purse richer after Marc had had a talk with him. The uniform he had acquired with a smaller, lighter purse, did not fit him too well, but a small coat and a loose belt was a small price to pay for the money he could make from tonight's activities. He watched as the sailors from Shienar unloaded peppers, furs, rugs, silks, and many other fine items from the ships hold. The cargo from this boat would cost any normal trader a small fortune to trade normally, but luckily for this captain and the merchants who would receive these goods, this wasn't a normal trader. Marc walked over to the captain, adjusting his customs officials uniform as he went. In his pocket were false documents showing where dues had been paid, what ports and towns the ship had stopped in, everything that an honest trader would have at this point in his journey.

 

Even though there was little crime in Tar Valon, Marc had been able to create a small, but profitable smuggling operation after he had joined the Tower Guards. his father had taught him back when he was a boy which officials to bribe, how to forge documents, where to unload and load cargo and when; everything a young smuggler would need in order to succeed. His father was probably dead by now, rotting in a jail cell after a competitor had one upped him, but his son was still active in the game. He had joined the Tower Guard after his father was arrested, and slowly built up one of the only smuggling operations in the whole city. He could have gone to another part of the world and probably made more money, but the thrill of conquering the hardest town was to good to pass up. He had to be more careful, take more risks, and the only thing that even compared to that rush was the sword which the Guards provided. He would probably leave town in a few years and set up a real operation, but for now he was content.

 

Taking the papers out of his cloak, he handed them to the captain. The man knew his job, and handed over several heavy purses that clinked merrily with gold. A few soft words were exchanged, and then the two men broke apart and walked away from each other. Marc did not really want to know who the captain of the ship was, or what he was carrying, and the captain wanted to know nothing of Marc. It was safer for both parties in Tar Valon to keep sa much information to themselves, that way if they were asked, they couldn't give each other up. Marc had contacts in other cities who checked out prospective clients and vouched for them. His job was just to facilitate the transfer. Going back to his position on the docks, Marc watched the goods get loaded onto wagons, each with their own set of documentation, and then take off into the night. As soon as that was done the ship dropped it's lines and disappeared as well. The guards around the docks stood passively, just as they had been ordered to do. It was never wise to question the orders of your superiors, especially in a place like Tar Valon.

 

Whistling to himself, Marc walked down the empty street back to the barracks. His ill fitting clothes were hidden for now, and he had his red Tower Guard cloak back on his shoulders. The purses at his waist almost seemed to dance, bouncing back and forth as if eager be spent. Marc had no fear that a cut purse would come at the sight of a lone man so obviously laden with gold. His cloak and sword offered him all the protection he needed from even the most desperate thief. No man or woman would dare attack a guard lest they have the Tower's wrath descend upon his head. Dawn would soon be approaching and Marc wanted to find his bed. He could spend his money at any time, and he would still have duties in the morning regardless if he was tired or not. As he approached the entrance to the yards, the clouds started to slowly cover the moon's light. Everything was silent and still; the only sounds were the slap of Marc's boots on the paving stones, the purses at his belt, and his slow steady breathing as he walked down the street.

 

Marc Shansa

Cari and the others tried as they might to pull the shadow from the conscious stream but their efforts grew week and it had been nearly 7 days since the shadow had taken control.  7 days of a constant struggle, their strength was gone, but the shadow grew stronger with each passing day, with each kill the blood lust grew stronger.  Cari had stopped trying to get out, she sat in the corner of her mind aborbing the lunacy from the shadow.  Meeghan clutched at her side, whimpering and crying.  Her cries had dimmed from the racking sobs that had followed the murder of the last victim.  She had seen too much, been witness to too many crimes and now she was broken.  Broken and battered from the shadows lust.  The others were feeling it but only Cari sat in silence and absorbed it.  She pulled it tight using it to grow stronger, her own lust for blood growing as the days went on.  She was using the shadow against itself. She would get stronger, she would get free, but it was not the time now.

 

The shadow followed a Tower Guard from the tower gates.  He didn't go to an inn, he was attending his own business and Cari watched and followed and observed the man.  He was making his purse fatter and he had been doing a good job from the looks of things.  Everything seemed to go acording to his plan. But he didn't factor in her. 

 

Cari waited.  The clouds covered the moon and there was little light left for man to see by, but it was enough.  Cari swooped in on the man, covering his mouth from behind.  He struggled but she held on tighter.  Saying nothing she pulled him into the shadows.  He was strong and his struggling was getting hard to control.

 

The man wormed out of her grasp and started to yell for help.  that was no good.  Cari drew her dagger and threw it, it landed hard in the man's skull and he fell face first into the ground.  Cari quickly pulled her dagger from his head.  It wasn't as quick as she would have liked, it was nearly stuck in the bone, but she pulled and it finally came free.  Cari ran to the darkest of shadows just barely before someone reached the body.  She didn't wait to see what was going on, she crept away. Away and to her hiding spot to rest.  It was nearing dawn.

 

Cari

 

Marc hummed quietly to himself. Everything was perfect this night. He had made more money this night then he had any previously, he had escaped all detection, and now he had a warm bed to look forward to. The wind picked up, ruffling his cloak and making him shiver. He rubbed his upper arms and hunched over. The peaceful quiet that he had been enjoying began to feel ominous, as if he were being watched by some unseen presence. He picked up the pace of his walking, eager to get into the relative safety of the yards. The breeze picked up and far in the sky the clouds began to move, covering the bright light of the moon. Everywhere around Marc the light dimmed and the shadows grew. He was just passing a seamstress when a hand grabbed him from behind, covering his mouth. Fear flooded into him, making his heart beat hard enough it seemed as if his chest could not contain it any longer. He struggled as much as he could, but his assailant had achieved a strong grip on him, and he watched in horror as the street disappeared as he was dragged into an alley.

 

The fear he felt was slowly turning into terror. Who was this attacker? He couldn't remember anyone who had any reason to hate him, no enemies that were still alive at least. He grabbed the arm covering his mouth and pulled down hard. Could it be a foot pad? That didn't make that sense; there was no way one would attack a guard, especially this close to the tower. Holding onto the arm, he swung hard to the left, smashing both of them into the wall. A grunt escaped his attacker but the grip still didn't lessen. As Marc moved to the right, he realized he was heavier then the mugger. He was going to escape and make them pay. Dropping his elbow into the gut of the person behind him. As soon as he did, he felt the hand let go. He was free! Pushing himself up, he started to run out of the alley. The narrow confines of the walls made it impossible to swing his blade with any real skill. He was almost out of the alley when something heavy hit him in the back of his head. All of a sudden, he couldn't see. What's going on? Why does it feel so cold? Feeling fled from his body as he fell, as if he no longer was a part of his own body. His knees hit the ground, and all consciousness was gone from the body of Marc Shansa. The wind howled down the street as the body fell the last few feet to the ground. By the time the wind died down, another guard had been claimed in the Tar Valon night.

 

Marc Shansa

 

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Jasen woke early in the morning to the light shining through his window. A sense of dread filled his stomach. The last few nights guards had been found murdered. Friends and comrades struck down by some unseen adversary in the night. Not knowing if your best friend would be alive when you woke was enough to unsettle anyone's nerves. Going about the motions, he dressed, strapped his blade to his waist, and walked out into the morning air. It was crisp and bright, a fine day. Everyone seemed to be calm and collected and relaxed. Hopefully nothing happened last night. Maybe this awful ordeal is finally over! The thought cheered Jasen up, and he decided to skip the galley and get a good breakfast at an inn. Even if the murders weren't over, he could use something to make take the gloom of the past few days away. Saluting the guards, Jasen walked out of the yards and onto the street. He hadn't walked far when he noticed something shiny on the ground. Bending over he picked it up. A gold coin! This was proof that this was going to be a great day. The shadow of death was finally being brushed away by the goodness of the creator and the light. His euphoria disappeared in an instance as Jasen stood. Looking into an alley way, he saw what looked like a man shape lying in the back. A man shape with a red cloak of a tower guard. Rushing over, he knelt and inspected the body. The dent in the back of the man's skull was proof enough that this man had run afoul of the mysterious force that had claimed so many lives already. Closing his eyes, Jasen offered up a prayer for the man. Running back into the yards, he pushed past people who shouted out to him, asking what was wrong. He didn't stop, they would learn soon enough. He burst into the office that had been set up to investigate the murders. Panting, Jasen began to tell the terrible news. "Kynwric, we have another murder. Come quick. Just outside. In an alley. Light, but will this end?"

 

Jasen Pontean

OOC:  Just a minor note, Cari took her dagger with her.

 

Cari quickly pulled her dagger from his head.  It wasn't as quick as she would have liked, it was nearly stuck in the bone, but she pulled and it finally came free.

Kynwric looked at the young man and shook his head at the news, he replied to his question. "Of course it will end, just as soon as the killer makes a mistake. Now show me to the body."

 

---

 

Once they arrived at the alley he turned to Jasen. "Go find the gravediggers," he shook his head "they've been far to busy recently." The he turned back to the crime scene, entering it slowly and observing everything about him. He saw the body, and the wound in the back of the head. Taking care he lifted the head and looked at the face Abrasions he thought. Then he decided to run... Kyn shook his head again as he rose and walked further back down the alley examining the cobbles and debris. He was talking to himself when he heard Jasen arrive at the mouth of the alley with the gravediggers. "Wait there, I want to finish my initial survey first." He saw the signs of a struggle and wondered why the Guardsman had decided to run...