Be'lal : Take it! Take it or I'll kill you now!
Moiraine : Hold!
*balefire*
Be'lal : You missed. Now die!
Moiraine : No!!!
Rand : Moiraine!
Be'lal : Take Callandor!
Rand : Never!
Be'lal : Then die!
*Be'lal stabs al'Thor in the chest and he dies in a pool of blood. He has no pulse. He is dead. A corpse.*
*Pattern shakes with grief*
Later that day the Forsaken meet to discuss their victory...
Ishamael : Where are the others. I sent for all you of and only six are here.
Graendal : They are on their way. You did ask for full reconnaisance before they arrived.
Ishamael : Fine. So... al'thor is dead.
Be'lal : I killed him.
Ishamael : Yes, we know. It was a ... worthy... thing you did.
Rahvin : But now none of us will ever get that damn sword.
Ishamael : Regrettable, but small in the face of a greater victory. Ah Mesaana... welcome at last.
Mesaana : We have a problem.
Ishamael : Yes?
Mesaana : Dragonmount just exploded and rained hundreds of babies down on Tar Valon.
Ishamael : What?
Graendal : Dead babies?
Mesaana : No. Healthy ones. Fat, pink, the healthiest I've ever seen.
Ishamael : But why?
Demandred : I have a theory.
Ishamael : Shut up. Are you certain of this Mesaana?
Mesaana : I brought two with me. Here they are...
Lanfear : Those are not babies. They are at least five years old.
Mesaana : The babies are aging thousands of times faster than normal children. They are also educated, and good looking.
Demandred : Yes well, the cause is obvious. Obviously...
Ishamael : What is being done with them?
Mesaana : They are being cared for by local families.
Ishamael : You, child. What do you have to say for yourself.
Girl : Until the Last Day! To spit in Leafblighter's Eye!
Ishamael : *gasp* Is the boy the same?
Mesaana : They are all...
Boy : Into the heart of the Shadow he plunged his word... Into the darkness he empties his ... *croak*
Graendal : Oh what now?
Demandred : His voice is breaking.
Mesaana : By tomorrow these babies will be adults.
Ishamael : Do you think they could be dangerous?
Demandred : Well personally...
Ishamael : Semirhage.
Semirhage : Well the girl is holding saidar now. So my guess is yes.
Ishamael : Point taken. Mesaana, take these things away and do something.
Mesaana : As you say.
Ishamael : Theories.
Demandred : Well...
Ishamael : No, not you.
Demandred : Actually you will listen to me right now or I'm going to become emotional and explode, and man, you don't want that.
Ishamael : Okay. Sheesh...
Demandred : Finally. The Wheel did not tolerate the death of the Dragon Reborn. It is going to retaliate and fix this vaccuum of Light victory. One of those children will become a new Dragon. I also think this is only the beginning. I also think we are screwed because we made the Pattern unhappy.
Be'lal : Unhappy. Bah!
Demandred : The Pattern is fragile.
Be'lal : The Pattern is a man.
Graendal : The Pattern is not a man.
Sammael : We've discussed this before.
Graendal : And we all know how it ended.
Semirhage : So everyone just shut up before the pink bra is fetched from my closet again.
Sammael : Let's not get hasty, Semirhage. We'll drop it.
Ishamael : Aginor, you look more pale than usual, despite being so late.
Aginor : Well that's because I have dire news. Rand al'Thor has been cloned.
Ishamael : What! By who? How? Who? How?
Aginor : By Elayne Trakand.
Ishamael : Ridiculous. They're millenia from that technology.
Aginor : I agree. But suddenly, while I was there disguised as a nun sent to wash al'Thor's bloodied body, she started mumbling incoherently about taking his pinky and using it to clone him.
Ishamael : And...?
Aginor : And suddenly I heard the sweet sound of biological jargon which has not been spoken for thousands of years. Her knowledge was profound, and then all hell broke loose. She channeled and suddenly a cloning vessel was present, al'Thor's pinky was off and when last I saw he was about 50% finished.
Ishamael : This is a disaster!
Rahvin : Well at least we can get the sword now.
Sammael : Cool.
Ishamael : Gah! It doesn't matter, you fools. Nothing matters! The Light must fall.
Asmodean : Well, sorry I'm late. I know the mood is tense for some reason but I have dire news.
Ishamael : Please, feel free to share. It's been such a joyous meeting so far.
Asmodean : Al'Thor is alive.
Graendal : We know. He's being cloned.
Asmodean : What? No, I mean he's alive. The one you killed Be'lal.
All : WHAT?
Be'lal : Impossible, I stabbed him in the heart. He had no pulse, I checked.
Asmodean : Well there's no easy way to say this, so I'll try. Nynaeve al'Meara has healed Death.
Semirhage : Impossible.
Asmodean : No really. While disguised as a nun I saw her sitting beside his corpse and weeping. Suddenly a sharp look came to her face and she lay her hands on his face. He gasped and sat up. Weakened, but alive.
Semirhage : But how?
Asmodean : I heard the Moiraine woman speak of how amazing it was that the answer lay in a single flow of Air.
Semirhage : If that is true, I'm going to kill someone.
Sammael : You had hundreds of years to research this and you didn't think of Air?!
Semirhage : How could I know it could be so ridiculous in its simplicity?
Asmodean : Cloning was apparenly Fire alone.
Aginor : Yes, well I knew that.
Rahvin : You knew, and you got a third name for that?!
Aginor : Listen dude, while all you other primates were making weaves as thick as buildings, I was the only one with the balls to play with one flow. So cut me a damn break, you sound like my tutor!
Rahvin : Okay, relax. Sheesh...
Ishamael : Any other wonderful news?
Balthamel : Just on time. It seems that the Creator is assailing Shayol Ghul.
Ishamael : Yeah right. Don't try one-up everything.
Balthamel : Very well, Ishamael. Get one of your draghkar to explain the mile high titan walking from the East with lightning bolts coming from his eyes and hands. It may be someone else, but my list is short.
Demandred : It's the Creator, Ishamael. I'm always right.
Ishamael : You... you... fine... muster the armies. I'll deal with this deity myself. Yes, Moghedien... we're off to war.
Moghedien : But I have dire news.
Ishamael : Worse than Creator?
Moghedien : Well maybe.
Semirhage : Let's hear it then.
Moghedien : It's the machines. They're drilling down to Zion... what?
All :
Moghedien : I swear it!
Ishamael : Silence mutton for brains. Everyone follow me to the Blight. To war!
General Fade : Great Master Ishamael.
Ishamael : Yes, General. We need the Blight mobilised to face the Creator. Also, fetch my sa'angreal hairbrush. The one that I run through my hair each night.
General Fade : Great Master, the Blight has been destroyed by a massive earthquake combined with hurricanes and storms on an immense scale. Your armies are gone.
Ishamael : What! The Creator?
General Fade : No, apparently some girl called Aviendha has a Talent with the weather.
Ishamael : But how could she destroy a whole continent unaided?
Demandred : I've explained my theory already. The Pattern is after us. You might as well bend over and take it until it's had its revenge.
Ishamael : Damn you Demandred! Damn you Graendal! Semirhage! Be'lal! Damn you all! And you especially.. DAMN YOU!
Barney : Aw
Ishamael : We'll have to fight this usurper god ourselves. What is that commotion in the back room?
Graendal : Undoubtedly it's Mesaana being shielded and interrogated by the two super-dragons she brought into the heart of our domain. Maybe we should start with them first.
Ishamael : Fine. We'll take out these adolescents first. But no holding back just because of their age. And after that we'll kill al'Thor.
Be'lal : Real al'Thor or cloned al'Thor?
Ishamael : Real. Then cloned. Then Tar Valon and the super babies. Then the Creator.
Moghedien : and the machines?
Ishamael : and the machines! And the machines! Shut up!!!
Demandred : To war!!
Ishamael : That's my line!
Demandred : I figured I could blame the Pattern thing.
Ishamael : You figured wrong. Now..
Semirhage : To war!!
Ishamael : You ... no!... Grr...
Sammael : To war!
Ishamael :
Barney : To war!
Ishamael : No, not you! Even I have limits!
All : Yaa!!! *charge*