Chapter One: On the River Erinin

The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again. In one Age, called the Third Age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a wind rose above the broken mountain named Dragonmount. The wind was not the beginning. There are neither beginnings nor endings to the turning of the Wheel of Time. But it was a beginning.

Born beneath the fainting glow of the waning moon high in the sky, born amongst writhing currents heated by the fires inside the ragged peak, the wind was strong even at the begin, yet it gained strength as it rushed down the steap, cracked slope. Carrying ash and the stench of sulfur it rushes along the river, blowing at a torch already burning low.

Six figures hold there hoods tight, as they board a small vessel, and depart the white city of Tar Valon. For they knew that the dragon was to be reborn, and the sought him where they thought to find him. There journey would be perilous as the Wastes of the Aeil was there destination, but they would not be deterred.

The ships captain, a rounded man with a Cairhien complexion gives a slight bow to the woman wearing the serpent ring. Aryana Sedai I presume, welcome aboard the Rosewood. She is ready to head down stream at your command.

Another Man Appears. Long Brown hair and a full beard, he has leather armor and a dark green cloak around his shoulders. He stands a about 6'1 with a bow slung over his back and a quiver at his side. He looks around quietly at the others gather his dark brown eyes trying to read those around him.

"Aye Aryana Sedai" The captain offers a deep bow before turning to his crew and begins shouting orders at his crew. The vessel is rowed for a short period to pull it into the currents, but the sailors hardly stop rowing before one of the men approaches the captain, "Captain Veleom, there's flotsam in our way."

If you squint out across the water dark jagged shapes fill the river ahead, a particularly large piece lies directly in your path. At the sight of this peril Veleom shouts in a panic "Helmsmen sharp right! All rowers to left side! Heave men heave!" Turning to his passengers he offers a single cry "Hold on te something."

You reach out to attempt to shift the flotsam but you underestimate both is mass and brittleness, you cannot budge the object but a section does break free.

You are getting closer to the object and can now resolve the shap of the obstruction, it is in fact another ship, that appears to have rolled over. 10 feet until impact...