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Looking for an Ancient-type Archiver

Quibby
Quibby
in Legacy Saga Archive

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Posted

This is going to be kinda limited, based on time at DM.  The older, the better.

 

I'm looking for anybody who might have archived a bio for DM's Mat Cauthon character, Calder Berrick.  Anything at all would be nice.

 

*puppy dog eyes* Please?

Was there even one written for him?? And if so, was it ever off the admin/private boards? Because unless it was made public 'somewhere' i doubt it can be found.

 

Although there is about a 2% chance that I can find it...  :)

I've actually been in contact with Alin off and on about the possibility of getting that ezboard restored if possible, so we can pull stuff from it.

  • 3 years later...

Sweet. I found an old RP with our Min in it. Raeyn wrote the character originally but she can't remember much about her. I'll post the RP here if somebody wants to write the bio for her. Her name was Ren.

Here is the old RP I mentioned-- it was probably posted by one of the Incarns at the time, and it has a narrator tone, giving an update on all of the main characters. It's VERY early, right after the events in EoTW.

 

 

There are neither beginnings nor ends to the turning of the Wheel...

But it was a beginning...

The slightest stirrings of a breath of air picked their way up between the poisoned leaves of a gnarled and twisted tree deep in the wasteland of the Blight like the last wheezing breath of a dying man. It gathered form and purpose as it passed across the withered landscape, up between the desolate peeks of the Mountains of Dhoom, and down their blasted slopes towards the Borderlands.

The breeze curled its fingers around an acorn hanging from the branches of an aged oak in the centre of a grove of evergreens and plucked it free carefully, casting it far from the charred and blackened surrounds of the site of conflict from a mere few weeks before. More than one grave was marked there, by the carpet of wildflowers that spread as if centered from this place out across the surrounding countryside, over a broken stone arch that marked a hillside a stone's throw away, an odd symbol - a disc half white, half black, cracked jaggedly down the centre - it's only ornament.

The breeze gathered itself and continued on, regretting the passing of such beauty as had occurred at the hillside as it wound its way down towards the Borderlands.

Here the keep of Fal Dara still celebrated with as much vigour as it had not for over a year since the Band of the Red Hand was formed, and its joyous festivities infected the wind with a quiet jubilance and sense of triumph. The flowers touched the very walls of the keep, and continued beyond it, a symbol of the unnaturally harsh summer just ended. But here, too, a sense of sorrow and loss marred the merriment, and a dark shadow tainted the minds of some men not too addled by drink to care. Rumours still ran through the fortress-town of the day of victory over the Dark in Tarwin's Gap, when, so the tales span, the Creator himself walked amongst the warriors of Shienar and cast fire and lightning into the ranks of Shadowspawn, risen suddenly and unnaturally from the Blight with intense ferocity driving them on, decimating their number and turning them back from whence they came.

West and south towards the Aryth Ocean the wind blew, tangling in the Age of Legends inspired pinnacles of the White Tower, tumbling down its pearly walls, whipping up clouds of dry dust at the base of the monumental structure.

Here, Ren was enjoying a quiet moment in the Tower Gardens. Autumn already had much of the foliage in its grasp, sprays of yellow, orange and red dripping from many of the trees. It was early for the leaves to be dropping already, the colour had begun turning two or three weeks ago, and now perhaps half their original splendour still remained. Nevertheless, the gardens were a peaceful, if chilly, retreat from the rest of the White Tower and Tar Valon, where people seemed to come mostly to mind their own business - something she wished all too much the Aes Sedai were better at doing. Not many bothered her, and fortunately none but Adelle and the Amyrlin Seat knew of her unique ability to read people's auras. Not that that was any reprieve for her - in Tar Valon, the heart of Aes Sedai and Warder populations alike, Ren found herself bombarded day to day by scores of images that boggled and confused her as often as made any sense.

Fortunately neither Adelle nor the Amyrlin had had the time to explore her abilities to their fullest just yet. As often as not Ren was frustrated by her inability to make meaning of her viewings, and on when she saw with absolute and dreadful certainty things she knew people would not want to know it often made her feel ill to the stomach. She had lied more than once in the past simply to save herself the headache of explaining the intimate details of her visions to this person or that who simply wouldn't leave her alone - her aunts had always been intolerable for it once they found out. She wondered someday if she would have to lie to a friend or a loved one the same way, just to avoid more pain and discomfort. At least here, in the Tower, for the time being, her friends, Adelle and the Amyrlin were the only ones who knew.

As her thoughts drifted, so too did the wind, gusting through an open window high on the Tower walls, down a long corridor, up two flights of stairs, another corridor, a common landing, and into the Novice quarters. Here Mili and Beth, common country innkeep's daughter and Daughter-Heir of Andor, were deeply entrenched in an intimate discussion.

As they talked, they tossed small balls of light between their hands, their eyes never moving from the dancing fairy lights, weaving intricate patterns and passing the weaves of the One Power they were mastering back and forward. They had been at the Tower barely days, but Beth's tuition with her mother's advisor in Caemlyn, and Mili's with Adelle and then both with a variety of Aes Sedai on their journey from Fal Dara to the White Tower, meant their skills were far advanced compared to most newly arrived to Tar Valon. And above and beyond that the pair promised, or so some said, to be among the most powerful and talented Aes Sedai seen since the Breaking of the World.

The door to their shared quarters swung open on silent hinges, and Beth and Mili instantly struck poses of apparent innocence as Raina, garbed in the seven striped dress of an Accepted and sporting the Great Serpent ring proudly on her hand, entered the room with an element of swift conspiracy, clicking the door closed behind her with a vexed and barely muffled half-curse as it shut more loudly than she'd intended. She spied the room's sole chair, her eyes lighting on it victoriously, victim to her will, and slightly misshapenly formed weaves of Air lashed around its legs and drugged it unceremoniously to her. They wavered, and broke like threads of spider-silk in the wind. She tried again, concentrating intensely, and gave up, unable to overcome her block a second time around. Flouncing down ungracefully, she crossed her arms in a guarded position under her breasts, murmuring a hello as she did.

Beth and Mili shared a look, and it was Beth who spoke first, suspecting that Mili would be more likely to get the full force of Raina's unpredictable mood than herself, as she'd only met the once-Wisdom bare weeks ago. "Why, Raina, which bug's bitten you today? Was it the chores, or the lessons, or the Mistress of Kitchen's spoon again?" She tried to make the enquiry light and humorous, but Raina's complexion darkened to such a brilliant red that Beth had wished the jesting words back before she finished.

Raina shrugged herself out of her momentary pout, and gave a low soft laugh. "I was teasing another girl in class just now - I meant it well, honestly! But the Aes Sedai didn't take it very well... Dreadfully inappropriate or some such stuffy nonsense..." Beth and Mili smiled and laughed, their eyes twinkling at the thought of Raina once again up to her elbows in the hot tubs of the kitchens, and sympathetically diverted the subject away from the source of Raina's previous discomfort. They chatted for a while about all that had happened since they'd arrived at the Tower. Meeting the Amyrlin Seat, training, lessons, chores - seeing Tar Valon for the first time!! And then their attention drifted to other matters, far more serious, and their tones hushed almost conspiratorially. The Seal on the Dark One's prison that had been recovered from the Eye of the World. The Forsaken free in the world, the Green Man's passing, finding the Horn of Valere, and Jarron... able to channel too. Calder and his dependent attachment to that curious ring that he had aquired in Shadar Logoth what seemed like an age ago, Bailey and his odd eyes, burnished yellow like brass despite being a deep brown all his life. Their murmurs rose and fell, and eventually light hearted laughter infused the conversation again and the wind swept out of the small window of the room and off across the plains to the east on the vibrant sounds of their humour.

The foothills of the Kinslayer's Dagger were the first obstruction encountered by the wind, whipped into a frenzy as they tore across the plains beyond the Shining Walls. They gathered clouds as they went, pulling at wisps and threads at first, then gathering a sulky mass of dirty grey that stained the sky as it was dragged along in the wake of the howling currents of air. The clouds brought light rain at first, that gradually increased intensity until it was a stead, soaking downpour.

Finding small shelter in those mountains, Jarron, Calder and Bailey, along with the companions they had left Shienar with were fighting against the weather to make camp for the night. They were on the trail of the Darkfriends who had stolen the Horn of Valere, or so their sniffer said, and while they weren't gaining any ground, they weren't losing any either.

Jarron knew, though, that that might not be enough. They sorely needed to catch up with the Shadow-souled thieves, and it had to be soon. Calder became increasingly listless and despondent with each passing day, his eyes sinking further in his head and his features becoming more gaunt and hollow. He was moody, snappish and even violent at times, at others vulnerable, sensitive and incomprehensibly guilt-stricken. Completely unpredictable. Jarron didn't feel like he knew him anymore.

Bailey finished wrapping another coat around Calder, and then went to help Qulias hobble the horses. The Ogier had become a faithful friend to him and his friends all three since he had joined them from his home stedding near Jangai Pass to guide them to the Borderlands via the Ways weeks beforehand. His curiosity with Jarron and his companions, all three of them ta'veren (though Bailey wondered sometimes what good that was) kept the gentle giant thoroughly amused in his travels.

Organising feed for the mounts, Bailey stretched inside himself and spread his senses out, searching for the wolves. It was a bizarre gift, and one he was dreadfully afraid of losing himself to; wilfully certain that he would not surrender to. He felt them, sensing through them whilst communing with the pack - they disliked the harsh weather that had blown in, and had found some shelter themselves. But they were still close enough to the Darkfriends and the Horn of Valere to know its location. If the party's sniffer lost the trail in the weather, Bailey could still follow the Nightrunners. He just hoped he didn't need to - his golden eyes drew too many surprised and questioning looks for his liking as it was.

Calder huddled down deeper in the oiled cloak Bailey had given him, not particularly aware of how ill he'd become, but acutely conscious of the way the cold and wet bit at him through his many layers of clothing, thought still trying to hide it behind his usual good humour for the most part. He feel a little lethargic and apathetic, but not as unwell as the looks that everyone gave him seemed to indicate. Moving around the camp he helped where he could, but always seemed to be given the lightest loads, the least strenuous tasks, like they thought he was some fragile Sea Folk porcelain. Ironic, he thought, given that if any of them needed to be treated carefully amongst the group, it was most likely Jarron. After all - he was the one who could channel. Not that any of them knew except for Bailey and Qulias. Calder wondered how much he'd be able to trust his life-long friend if things started to go sour... If Jarron started to go mad. He fingered the mark the ring from Shadar Logoth had left on his finger absently, lost in his own thoughts.

The wind roared and lightning split the sky with a blinding fork. Thunder followed a moment after, and for a moment the wind died to whisper. The world held its breath.

In the White Tower, Adelle had finally been given the opportunity to account the past several months events to the Amyrlin Seat, free from prying ears. Accompanying her was her long-time companion and warder, Logan. Entering the study of the most powerful woman in the world, she carefully emptied a small red velvet pouch onto the Amyrlin's desk and a palm sized disc made a small clatter as it landed on the inlaid surface. "Cuendillar..." Adelle said, as she began her story from the end.

In Stedding Shangtai, one of the Elders was lost in thought as she tended to a slightly withered sapling. It was written in the histories, the ability to see ta'veren. But she had never once seen one in her life until a few weeks ago, and then three at once. Their incandescent luminosity had rocked the security of her world to the most fundamental level. And to lose one of their number to those boys - children! But then, perhaps the Ogier had been secluded from the world for too long. Perhaps the peaceful tranquility of their lives would have to change.

Beyond the Spine of the World, the Wise One woke from the Dream World, still slightly confused and puzzled. She'd never head of more than one Dreamer having virtually the same Dreaming, all within a night of each other. The piercing cold of the night touched her to the bone, and she shivered slightly.

Across the Aryth Ocean, Windfinders struggled to steady their ships as the waters rose against them. The Father of Storm's touch, or pure chance?

On a farming community not far from the capital city of Andor, a man destined for pain and anguish dropped the weaves of saidin he'd been instructing a class of students with, and his voice broke out, an aura of uncanny certainty settled into his words. When he finished, he blinked as if waking from a dream, and then blinked distractedly at the class, dismissing them instantly as he hurried off to find pen and paper, though the words were ones he could not forget except in death.

In the Wolf Dream, the Kin's companions whispered of change and uncertainty, of old things come new again, of ancient evil awakened. The Dream was no longer safe, even for those well experienced in its laws.

In cities across the continent, rumour ran riot. The Creator made flesh fought for the Light in Shienar, and won the Last Battle, a Dragon Reborn defeated in the Borderlands, no in Ebou Dar, no - the Stone itself taken if truth be told!! The Forsaken walking the land, the Circle of Thirteen releasing the Dark One from his prison outside the Pattern. Spies collected rumours, and fed them back to legion commanders and spymasters. The military powers of the world tensed in the calm before a storm.

Other claims rose, a False Dragon in Cairhien, another in Ghealdan, an entire guild of channeling men hiding out in Illian. Aes Sedai working for the Shadow, nightmares that made trollocs look like kittens plaguing people's sleep, stealing children from cradles. Across the ocean, a powerful leader made the declaration that would signal the return of a people to their one-time homeland for the first time in centuries.

And in dark corners across the world, in high places and in low, alliances were made and broken, souls bought and sold for a pittance, commitments made and bargains arranged. That not seen for three thousand years walked again, and brought with it a cult following unlike any seen for generations. The Orders of the Chosen rose again.

The air rose again, and swirled, and Jarron bunked down in his bedroll for a short few hours sleep before they would need to move out again.

The winds of change blew.

A storm was coming.

 

 

 

And here is an update from 2005, covering the events that followed:

 

 

11.14.05

Annoucement

Posted in General, Plotline at 2:44 PM by General Incarn

Our apologies for not updating this website sooner with main plotline updates. Due to the problems associated with actually Role-Playing the entire Main Plotline, the Staff has come to a decision to only RP certain main events that are crucial to the Divisions. Between these events will be time jumps to the next events.

After the battle in Arad Doman, the Dragon and his party went to Tear where they took the Stone of Tear. Many things occurred in Tear that are of consequence to all of the RPers in the DR PSW.

1) The Black Tower has announced themselves and are no longer a secret organization. In addition to this, they have sworn themselves to the Dragon Reborn and he in turn has proclaimed an amnesty for all male channelers who follow him.

2) The Aiel have all but sealed themselves to the Dragon, Jarron al’Tannin. After Tear, he followed them to the Waste.

Following Tear there were two main plotline events. The first was Rhuidean, which took place in the Waste. This is where Jarron becomes the Aiel’s Car’a'Carn, or the Chief of Chiefs. He is also known as He Who Comes With the Dawn to the Aiel, and he announces this at the Waste after bringing all of the Clans together.

Another event which took place was the Emmond’s Field battle in which Trollocs and Myrdraal lead by Dreadlords attempted a raid on the small towns where the Dragon Reborn was raised. What they did not expect was that the Wolfkin, the Band of the Red Hand, and the Children of the Light along with the villagers and a few Aes Sedai would be there to prevent them from doing so.

Our next upcoming plotline event will be the battle at Dumai’s Wells. Please keep an eye out on the East Board for this as it should be happening within the next few weeks. If you’re interested in being involved, please contact your Division Leader and they will let you know how you can be part of the main plotline.

 

 

The next events to occur would have been Dumai's Wells, and I think we can probably find those posts using the wayback machine on DM6. If you guys would like me to work on that, I can.

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