[ Sadly, ms warrior trainer, Rand's hand was burnt off. ]
Cornered in a battle...
[ This is hard. When was the last time he was cornered...
And when was the last time he didn't use magic to get out of it. ]
I assume you don't want to hear about me having to relearn how to fight with this hand, although it was tough.
[ Sort of waggling his right hand's fingers at her. Battle and cornered. ]
At Falme, between two armies - one of a very religious order known as Children of the Light, the other of the Seanchan, who just looked like very strange invaders - I ended up in a fight against who I thought then was The Dark One himself. I was tired - I had won against a Seanchan blademaster not too long ago, and blademasters aren't called them for no reason - my hands hurt from an accidental branding - which was months ago, then, but they still hurt now - and.. I couldn't win. He wasn't really able to do much but keep me moving, either, but I was tired and he, well, he was full of Power.
[ Ah. Ba'alzamon. Not Shai'tan, but then? Close enough.. ]
I only won because I let him smash me in the ribs with his staff, and I got my sword through him. The wound hasn't healed, and that was near two years ago.
That.. That was hard. I was certain, that if I failed, the world would be... well, "destroyed". Could you imagine what the world would be like, say, if no one had a conscience? Or perhaps if it was extreme distopia - a slight mistake would have you gathering wood from a place where the very trees, if you touch them wrong, would kill you. Or perhaps the world would just be a charred and blackened ruin - humans kept to be contents of stewpots for creatures half-beast. My only chance was to let him strike me, and I was told that prophesies said I was the only one to stop Him. If I lost? All that, or somehow, something worse.
[ Only now he knew what the Dark One could do, as it had showed him what it wanted to. ]
no subject
Cornered in a battle...
[ This is hard. When was the last time he was cornered...
And when was the last time he didn't use magic to get out of it. ]
I assume you don't want to hear about me having to relearn how to fight with this hand, although it was tough.
[ Sort of waggling his right hand's fingers at her. Battle and cornered. ]
At Falme, between two armies - one of a very religious order known as Children of the Light, the other of the Seanchan, who just looked like very strange invaders - I ended up in a fight against who I thought then was The Dark One himself. I was tired - I had won against a Seanchan blademaster not too long ago, and blademasters aren't called them for no reason - my hands hurt from an accidental branding - which was months ago, then, but they still hurt now - and.. I couldn't win. He wasn't really able to do much but keep me moving, either, but I was tired and he, well, he was full of Power.
[ Ah. Ba'alzamon. Not Shai'tan, but then? Close enough.. ]
I only won because I let him smash me in the ribs with his staff, and I got my sword through him. The wound hasn't healed, and that was near two years ago.
That.. That was hard. I was certain, that if I failed, the world would be... well, "destroyed". Could you imagine what the world would be like, say, if no one had a conscience? Or perhaps if it was extreme distopia - a slight mistake would have you gathering wood from a place where the very trees, if you touch them wrong, would kill you. Or perhaps the world would just be a charred and blackened ruin - humans kept to be contents of stewpots for creatures half-beast. My only chance was to let him strike me, and I was told that prophesies said I was the only one to stop Him. If I lost? All that, or somehow, something worse.
[ Only now he knew what the Dark One could do, as it had showed him what it wanted to. ]