Posted January 17, 1999 - January 25, 2001
Category: WoT Humor
Author: Sundara

Long Live Insanity

previous episodes
Episode 11: The Ambush
Episode 12: Tower Tours, Inc.
Episode 13: Right Between The Eyes
Episode 14: Where The Shadow Flees, or, The Boat People
Episode 15: Early In The Morning
Episode 16: The Incredible Dancing Trollocs
Episode 17: Origins of Insanity - Sycho
Episode 18: Origins of Insanity - Shani
Episode 19: Origins of Insanity - Shadar
Episode 20: Sharis and Sneak
Episode 21: The Misunderstood Species
Episode 22: Mothers of the Dragon
Episode 23: Sycho Sees Seanchan
Episode 24: Discussions
Episode 25: Last Train to Shara

Episode 11: The Ambush

A narrow, little-trodden path winds its way through the dark forest, far from any outpost of civilisation. There are rumours of bandits in these woods. Not many people pass this way any more.

But what's that sound? Footsteps in the distance, and voices coming closer, talking and laughing with no thought of danger. Figures appear around a bend, vague in the pale moonlight.

The men crouched in the branches smile contemptuously. Two women, they count, and an Ogier, and a big fellow with a sword and an odd horned helmet who must be their guard. Fools, coming this way at night with only one armed man. Looks like a quick profit ahead.

As the four pass beneath the tree where they hide, two of the bandits leap from the branches, tackling the hulking bodyguard. The results are not quite as they expect.

"Go get 'em, Snarg!" Shani and Shaiel cheer as the bandits are picked up by the big - what in Shayol Ghul is that creature? - and slammed against the tree a few times, growling "Stupid bandits!" Meanwhile, Someone busily writes in his notebook.

The third bandit appraises the situation and does what appears to be the smart thing. Which proves him rather lacking in brains, since the smart thing in this situation is clearly to run. Instead, he jumps down, grabs Shaiel and holds a knife to her throat. "Okay," he snarls, proving himself to be also a lousy actor, "tell your friend there to let my mates go, or the girl gets it!"

There is a scornful laugh from somewhere in the shadows. And, disconcertingly, from Shaiel. Snarg takes no notice of the threat and continues slamming the bandit pair.

"Don't hurt anyone!" Shani sounds alarmed, to the bandit's relief. At least someone here is showing a normal reaction. "You do what you're told, pretty, and -" He is cut off by a withering look from Shani.

"I wasn't talking to you."

"It's all right," Shaiel says, "I won't." She pauses, considering. "Not permanently, anyway."

"I said let them go!" The bandit brandishes his knife, frothing at the mouth in fury.

"Oh, very well," the voice from the shadows sighs. "Snarg?"

The Trolloc slams the pair against the tree once or twice more, then, with a disappointed look, lets them go. Emphatically. The two bandits go flying back into the woods. "Stupid bandits."

"Well done," the shadowy voice applauds. "Now let me explain a few things about ambushes. What you don't do is attack Trollocs. They can get quite annoyed about that. Then, it's not really a good idea to..."

The third bandit is looking frantically around, trying to find the source of the mocking voice. And unaware that his hair is slowly beginning to smoulder.

"...pick a hostage who could tie you in knots without breathing hard," the voice continues, "and if it comes to that, deciding to ambush..."

The bandit's hair, being rather greasy, is catching fire quite nicely.

"...a group containing an -"

"Aaargghh!" The bandit dances around, trying to beat out the fire on his head without letting go of Shaiel. He manages, but only because Shaiel is laughing too hard to do anything about it. "Aes Sedai!"

" - ranks fairly high on the list of stupid things to do," the voice concludes. "Actually, though, you were wrong. The correct word to fill in was Asha'man." Shadar, his black coat merging with the night, moves out of the shadows.

"Stupid bandit!" (Guess who that was)

"That's right," Shani agrees blithely. "Fire does tend to be a male strength. If you want Aes Sedai work, on the other hand..." A large quantity of ice-cold water is abruptly dumped on the bandit's head, quenching the remaining flames. "Does that help?"

The bandit's jaw hits the ground. His eyes roll up in his head.

"Hey, what's going on?" A white-cloaked figure appears at the bend of the path. "It's raining bandits back here! Snarg, was that -" He sees the group. "All right, let's not have anyone hurt."

"I already said that," Shani tells him.

"Spoilsport. What's happening?"

"Thank the Light!" the bandit gasps out. "Aes Sedai! Asha'man!"

"And...?"

"Help me!"

"What in the Light for?" Sycho takes off his helmet and leans back against a tree to enjoy the show.

The bandit collapses. Not due to shock, although that would probably have happened had there been time for it, but due to Shaiel deciding to do something about the knife at her throat. An elbow to the ribs, a fist to the jaw and several kicks to various vulnerable parts of the body lay the bandit out cold on the ground.

(The author has just realised that she hasn't mentioned Someone for a while. Please assume that all through this, he is standing to one side, taking notes for his book. Thank you.)

The group applaud. Sycho relieves the unconscious man of his purse and adds it to the two he collected from the earlier pair.

"How much?" Shani asks him.

"Enough for a few cups of wine. What say we head for the nearest tavern?"

"Why not?" Shadar shrugs. They stroll off down the path. "Think we'll run into any more bandits?"

"Not if they have any sense," Shani laughs.

But do the bandits have any sense? No... and now you know how Shadar can afford all those things he pulls out of his hat, too.

Tune in next week for episode 12: Tower Tours, Inc.

Episode 12: Tower Tours, Inc.

"Welcome to Tower Tours, Inc." A gateway appears and Shani steps through, followed by the other five, who are looking around curiously. "We are currently located in the upper section of the White Tower, which houses the quarters of each Ajah. Unfortunately the Blue quarters are currently empty, but we will visit each of the others in turn." She gestures toward a white-painted door at the end of the corridor. "First stop is the White Ajah."

Aes Sedai, Asha'man, Aiel, Whitecloak, Ogier and Trolloc file through the door. The reaction is surprising, in that it is mainly nonexistent. Most of the White sisters in the large room continue with what they are doing, paying no attention to the group that has just entered.

One near the door glances up. She studies them briefly. "The odds against six such people being associated with each other are astronomically high," she informs them coolly. "Therefore, you cannot possibly exist." She returns to her work. "Kindly close the door on your way out."

"That's Whites for you." Shani shrugs. "Let's try the Browns."

Their entrance to the Brown quarters is marked by much blinking and scribbling in notebooks. A few are too engrossed in their study to take any notice, but the majority immediately start questioning, theorising and recording. Someone has to be dragged away from the Brown bookshelves before they leave.

"Stupid Ogier," Snarg mutters.

"He's just following his instinct," Shaiel says. "Who's next, Shani?"

"How about Green?"

"Want to be a Warder, handsome?" a pretty Green calls as Shadar strolls through the door. She grins. "I rather like men in black."

"No you don't!" Shani retorts. "He's mine."

"Ah well." She turns to Sycho. "Want to be a Warder, handsome? I rather like men in white, too."

"He's mine," Shaiel says firmly.

"I'm just following my instinct," the Green sister laughs. "Are you sure you can't spare him? I mean, the Ogier and the Trolloc aren't exactly bonding material, and I've been looking for a new Warder for a while."

"How many do you have already?"

"Five."

"Hello, Shani!" another Green greets her. "You do know Elaida's banned you from the Tower, don't you?"

"Of course! Why do you think I'm back?"

"Just checking."

Shadar looks at Shani. "Why in the Light did you pick Red instead of Green?"

Shani looks surprised. "Because everyone expected me to pick Green, of course." She smooths down her dress. "Besides, red's always been my best colour."

On their way out of the Green quarters, this time it's Sycho and Shaiel who have to be dragged away (Sycho from a group of Green sisters looking for a sixth or seventh Warder, and Shaiel from another group of Greens listening, fascinated, to her explanation of the rules of Maiden's Kiss. A fair number of Gaidin are in for a new experience). They head for a door painted yellow.

The Yellow sisters immediately surround the group, arguing over whether insanity can be cured. Then one recognises Shani. "Forget it - we've been trying to cure her for years."

They go on to the Gray quarters.

The Gray reaction is - interesting. "It's not fair!" one Gray sister screams. "You've taken away our entire purpose for existing!"

Sycho looks confused. "Uh - run that one by me again?"

"Do you know how many sisters it would take to conclude a peace treaty with the Whitecloaks? Let alone bringing Asha'man into it too!" She glares at Shadar. "And all the rest of you! And now look what you've done - you're getting on perfectly well without any of us intervening!" The Gray breaks down into hysterical sobs.

"Don't worry." Shani pats the inconsolable Gray on the shoulder. "You'll have a war to adjudicate before long."

"What?" another Gray demands.

Shani smiles sweetly. "I'm going to introduce my friends to the rest of the Red Ajah."

There is a hushed silence, broken only by such sound effects as gasps, hysterical giggles, and probably the theme tune from Jaws, as the six walk slowly toward a large door painted in deep red.

The door swings open. Sisters inside look up in surprise at the entrance of an Aiel and an Ogier, which turns to shock as a Whitecloak and Trolloc walk in, which rapidly turns to panic as they are followed by an Asha'man. Then they see Shani...

The oldest Red sister sighs and casts her eyes skyward. "I should have known."

The rest are a little less calm. Actually - a lot less calm. "How dare you show your face in here again?" one shrieks. "You were BANNED from the Tower!" About half the Reds in the room appear to share her sentiment. Most of the other half have fainted. A few are laughing uncontrollably. None are taking the least notice of Sycho, Shaiel, Someone, Snarg or even Shadar.

"Shani would appear to have a certain reputation here," Someone observes as he continues to take notes.

"You're not joking." Shaiel looks around in amazement. "That's some reputation, to make this lot ignore an Asha'man in their quarters."

"What did she do to get banned?" Sycho demands.

"At a guess," Shadar grins, "I'd say the same sort of thing that got me banned from the Black Tower."

"Stupid rules!"

"That's about it, yes."

Shani, meanwhile, is standing in the middle of the room, an amused smile flickering on her lips. It doesn't take a genius or a great observer to guess that she's delighted with the sensation she's caused. And continues to cause, as the shouting rages on...

"I don't know how you have the gall to come back here, after all the trouble you've caused!"

"We should have known better than to let you into the Ajah!"

"You should have been thrown out before you ever reached the shawl!"

"You little tart! All you care about is getting attention!"

The smile turns into a wry grin at that last one. "Guilty as charged," Shani agrees blandly. "So?"

"You must be insane!"

"Perceptive, aren't they?" Shadar murmurs under his breath.

"I warn you, this will not be tolerated!"

"Go back to wherever you've been!"

"Can you give me some tips?" Glares meet that one, but the questioner shrugs unabashed. "Hey, it looks like fun."

"You were banned from the Tower! How dare you -"

"You're repeating yourself now," Shani interrupts. "Now you've got all that out of your system - you have, haven't you? - I was going to ask if Elaida -"

The door slams open, and the voice of the Amyrlin in question can be heard all over the island. Everyone stops in their tracks as the enraged words, breaking the sound laws in every part of the world, boom out:

"WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO MY CLOCK?"

Tune in next week for episode 13 (hey, my lucky number!): Right Between The Eyes.
(Author's note: if you didn't get the bit about Elaida and her clock, reread episode 3, In the Amyrlin's Study.)

Episode 13: Right Between The Eyes

"Yes he is."

"No he isn't."

"Yes, he is."

"No, he isn't."

Shani and Shadar are strolling down the snow-covered Cairhien road, engaged in a heated debate. "Look," Shani sets hands on hips and glares at him, "he is. Taim is Demandred. It's perfectly clear."

"No it's not." Shadar glares right back. "It's a ridiculous idea. He's a complete idiot, but he isn't a Forsaken."

"Is so!"

"Is not!"

"Is so!"

"Oh, all right then, if you insist... Is so!"

"Is not!"

And the debate continues.

"How much further?" Shani asks after a few more minutes, absent-mindedly adding "Is not!" to the end of her sentence.

"Is so! Not far, it's just over this hill."

"Good. I'm looking forward to visiting again - besides, I heard some of my friends are here now. Is not, by the way."

"Is so. Here we are."

The pair stand atop the hill, looking down at what appears to be a farm. A few black-coated men are moving about outside, but the majority are clearly inside the large, untidy-looking farmhouse.

"The Black Tower," Shani says sardonically.

"Home sweet home," Shadar says equally sardonically.

Arm-in-arm, they saunter down the snowy hill and into the house. The first few rooms they look into are empty. Opening the door to another, Shani ducks as a dart goes flying past her.

"You again?" the young Dedicated who threw the dart exclaims.

Shadar snatches the dart from mid-air and tosses it back. "That's no way to welcome a guest. Haven't you learned any manners since last time I saw you?"

"You again?" This time about half the room joins in.

"Indeed. I, Shadar the Mad, alive, well and completely insane." Shadar bows mockingly. "And my dear, dear friend and companion in madness, Shani of the Red Ajah." Shani bestows a dazzling smile on the crowd. "Before anyone asks, yes, I am quite aware of the fact that I have been banned from the Black Tower, and before anyone asks, yes, that is why I am back. And how is our respected M'Hael?"

"Worse," another Asha'man replies succinctly. The rest of the men in the room variously sigh, roll their eyes and grumble agreement.

"Is not!" Shani whispers, too low for anyone but Shadar to hear.

"Is so!" Shadar raises his voice again. "And how -"

A voice interrupts them. "Now who in the Light are you two?" The pair turn around to see yet another black-coated man standing in the doorway, looking at once surprised and highly amused.

"Well -" Shani begins.

"Move aside, you lug of a False Dragon!" A second Domani woman in a red shawl pushes past into the room. "Shani! I thought it was you! What have you been up to?"

"Hello, Toveine! How have you been?" Shani pulls Toveine aside and the two start whispering, darting glances at Logain and Shadar that leave absolutely no doubt about who their topic of conversation happens to be.

(You didn't know Toveine was Domani, did you? I thought not. Read her description a bit more closely.)

Shadar looks at Logain. Logain looks at Shadar. Both shrug at approximately the same time, and in the same manner, one which conveys the general message that whether they happen to be sane or insane, men will never understand women. Meanwhile, of course, Shani and Toveine have identical amused little smiles on their lips, which as every well brought-up girl, whatever her level of sanity, in the world of the Wheel is taught from childhood is the very best way to seriously aggravate men by creating the impression that women do understand men, and very well too, which is pure fiction because if one gender in the Wheel of Time ever fully understood the other the world would probably end...

But I digress. While I was describing those shrugs and smiles and their intended effects, Logain and Shadar introduced themselves to each other and Toveine and Shani finished their conversation and have now rejoined the men, leaving them, and you, in eternal curiosity concerning just what was said. Now back to the action.

Shadar looks at the dartboard hanging on the door, and blinks. "What happened to Elaida?"

The new dartboard bears a life-size image of a hook-nosed man in a black coat, with blue and gold Dragons twining up the sleeves.

"The old one wore out," Logain replies with a shrug. "Elaida's even less popular than Taim in some quarters -"

Nods and mutters of agreement from the rest of the room - not least from Toveine.

"- and the girls got overenthusiastic." Logain grins. "There's a hole right through the door from Toveine's first throw."

"Oh, not right through. There's at least a hair's-width of wood left." Toveine turns to Shani. "I hear you made a name for yourself here a while back."

Shani drops her eyes modestly, or would at any rate if modesty wasn't quite such an unnatural emotion for her. "Well..."

"How about a second demonstration?"

Forgetting the attempt at modesty, Shani flashes a brilliant grin. "Just hand me a dart."

The dart duly supplied, she steps back, grins again at her audience and tilts her head to study the target. "Hmm..."

"Don't think you can do it?"

"Don't be insulting." With that, Shani hurls the dart toward the door ...

... which swings open ...

... revealing another life-size image of a hook-nosed man in a black coat, with blue and gold Dragons twining up the sleeves. Wait ... that doesn't look like a picture ...

The dart hits Mazrim Taim. Right between the eyes.

There is a brief but profound silence as the M'Hael of the Black Tower stands in the doorway, with a look of fury on his face and a dart sticking out from his forehead. Only four sentences are spoken before pandemonium erupts.

"Is not!" Shani.

"Is too!" Shadar.

"Here comes trouble..." Logain.

"I think," Toveine, "that it would be a good idea for you two to leave right now..."

Pandemonium erupts. Shadar and Shani take the opportunity and Toveine's advice, and slip quietly out the back door.

Back on the snow-covered Cairhien road, Shani whirls to face Shadar. "See! What did I tell you! He is Demandred!"

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

And the debate continues.

Tune in next week for episode 14: Where the Shadow Flees, or, The Boat People
(Author's note: I know Reds aren't too popular among WoT fans, but I like Toveine. Besides, she and Logain make a cute couple.:) Also, this was written before the Special Edition, so this is where Taim's "I thought you were just a bad dream" comes from. I didn't notice the continuity problem until later.)

Episode 14: Where The Shadow Flees, or, The Boat People

The city - dark and deserted save for the small party standing in the middle of the main street. Ruined buildings loom all around them. The sun has set.

A thin tendril of mist drifts from one of the buildings.

A slim woman standing slightly apart from the others holds out her hand, palm up. "Come on, then," she calls softly. A faint smile crosses her face. "Come to Shani."

The tendril pauses, detecting something strange in its surroundings.

"Come on now." Shani beckons to it. "We're here. We're helpless. We're food for the taking..."

Somebody snickers. Somebody else hushes him. The tendril drifts gradually closer to her upraised hand.

"Good," the Aes Sedai croons. "Good little Mashadar. Come and feed..."

The tendril of mist touches her hand. A sudden, unhuman shriek of pain echoes from all around them. The mist pulls back from her and flees. Scattered applause comes from the rest of the party.

"We're just too mad for it," Shadar says smugly.

"Stupid mist," Snarg says equally smugly.

"I wonder if a similar principle might apply to Machin Shin," Someone muses. The Ogier's voice, as always, resembles nothing more than the buzzing of an immense bumblebee. "It would be very useful if there was a safe way through the Ways. Um. I wonder if..." He starts scribbling in the inevitable notebook.

"It very likely does." Shani smiles brightly at them all. "We'll remember to try that. Right now, though, we have something else to do."

"What?" Sycho frowns. "I don't remember you saying anything about this earlier."

"That," Shani explains patiently, "is because I didn't. Run!"

"What?" It isn't just Sycho this time.

"I said, run! Hurry!" Shani darts off down the street, followed by Shadar and, after a confused moment, everyone else.

"Why are we running?" Sycho pants out.

"Because I told you to."

"Yes, but why -"

"No time for that! Hurry up!"

Five minutes later they stop by the river, breathless and gasping for air. Well, except for Shaiel, since everyone knows how fast Maidens can run. And not Someone, because all Ogier have plenty of stamina, or Snarg, for much the same reason. And not Shadar or Shani, of course, because they're insane and don't see the need to follow the normal rules anyway, which leaves...

"Why," Sycho demands, breathless and gasping for air, "did we have to run?"

"I saw no danger," Shaiel asserts.

"Hmm?" Shani glances back at them. "Oh, no, no danger. Nothing like that. I just didn't want to miss our boat."

"What boat?"

"That one right there - " She points. A boat is, indeed, sailing rapidly toward them, with a man standing on deck shouting. "- and that -"

"Fortune prick me if that do be not a Trolloc! I do not be giving passage to people who do be being chased by Trollocs! Everyone do be knowing that bad things do be coming of it!"

"- must be our captain."

Someone blinks. "For some strange reason..." He produces a book and starts flipping through it. "I have this odd feeling of déja vu..."

"Shh, don't tell anyone. Your turn, Shadar."

"It's all right, Captain," Shadar calls to the shouting Illianer, "we're not being chased by Trollocs. This one's with us. Actually, we're being chased by Tairens."

"But you said -" Sycho begins, before catching a look from Shani. "Sorry."

"You know what Tairens are like." Shadar sighs theatrically. "They see a group like ours and they're suspicious right away. They refuse to believe we're just minding our own business and not causing anyone any trouble."

Sycho snickers.

"Why, those Tairen pigs!" The captain's beard bristles. "Always prying into other people's business! Never letting a Light-fearing Trolloc live his life in peace! Come right aboard, friends! No Tairen contaminates my decks!"

The boat stops, and a plank is laid from deck to bank for them. With a grin, Shadar offers his arm to Shani and the pair of them cross to the deck. The other four look at each other, shrug, and follow them.

"Captain Dayle Bomon at your service," the Illianer announces, bowing. "I do be glad to meet you all. How does it be that you do all be together, then?"

"Well -" Shadar begins, and as the boat carries them downriver, launches into a long involved, fantastic tale of adventures strange and exotic and utterly implausible...

...and completely true. Who needs gleemen?

***

Episode 15: Early In The Morning

"Do I look like an Aes Sedai?" Shani demands, spreading her arms wide dramatically.

The dark face of a Sea Folk officer on the deck above takes on a distinctly amused expression. "Well - I suppose I could accept the ring and the shawl as some sort of fashion statement, but the ageless face...?"

"Oh - damn. I forgot about that." Shani shrugs. "All right. I am Aes Sedai. Don't I get any points for trying, though?"

The Atha'an Miere woman considers. "What do you know about Windfinders?"

"You mean that they can channel? Don't worry, I'm not going to tell anyone. Elaida won't let me back in the Tower long enough to anyway."

"All right then, come aboard."

A rope is dropped from the side of the raker. Shani, however, ignores it and gravity in favour of walking up to the deck on thin air. (No, I don't mean channeling a bridge of Air either. The force of insanity is much stronger than that of gravity. Didn't you ever learn that in school?)

"Show-off," Shadar mutters.

Shani arches an eyebrow and turns back to bargaining with the Sea Folk. Meanwhile Someone's books are being hauled up, supervised by the anxious Ogier (books of course being much more important, in an Ogier's view, than other people, who can just wait to get up until his precious books are safe, thank you very much).

Shadar thinks for a moment. Abruptly lightning flashes down from a clear blue sky. It hits the spot where he is standing, causing him to be explosively propelled into the air and land upright on the raker's deck. He didn't channel, either.

"And you call me a show-off!" is Shani's response.

Shadar smirks. Shani sulks. Shadar walks over to the side of the ship, where Sycho is now being pulled up. "Hey, be careful you don't -"

A metaphorical lightbulb flashes above Shani's head as she takes in several important facts. Due to Shadar's height, more than half of his body is above the railing he's now leaning on in a very precarious way. And there's that lovely crate of books so conveniently to hand...

"- fall!" Shadar finishes his sentence with a yell as a heavy book (Volume One of Long Live Insanity, in case anyone was wondering) hits his head and sends him tumbling. Of course, he grabs the railing with one hand, hits the side of the raker and flips back up, narrowly missing kicking Sycho in the head...

"Hey! Watch it, Shani!"

...and lands back on the deck. The book, meanwhile, sails out over the side and is caught by Someone, who, hugging his rescued masterwork to him, immediately starts berating Shani for treating books in such a fashion. Not to mention Shadar for being so careless as to hit it with his head.

Shani smirks. Shadar sulks. The Sea Folk just look on in disbelief.

The rest of the party make it on board without any incidents, and the ship sets sail. Someone sits down in an out-of-the-way corner with his books, pens and paper, and continues writing. Shaiel very carefully just happens to look anywhere but at the immense amount of water all around her. Snarg sprawls out on the deck and goes to sleep in the sun, and Sycho borrows a bottle of oosquai from Shaiel and proceeds to get happily drunk. Shadar and Shani continue to sulk, ostentatiously looking away from each other.

But of course, what always happens in those circumstances happens, and after downing the third cup of oosquai, Sycho begins to sing:

"Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the, hic, wall, hic, ninety-nine bottles of, uh, can't remember what came next..."

Everyone aboard visibly winces.

"Beer, that's it, ninety-hic bottles of hic on the beer, uh, wall, um..."

Shadar begins to whistle softly, to the tune of 'What shall we do with a drunken sailor...'. Shani flicks a glance at him, and the pair start singing, drowning out Sycho's 'music'.

"What shall we do with a drunken Whitecloak,
What shall we do with a drunken Whitecloak,
What shall we do with a drunken Whitecloak,
Early in the morning?"

Shani and Shadar grin at each other. And it seems Snarg isn't asleep after all, because he yawns, stretches his muscles, gets up and ambles in Sycho's general direction...

"What shall we do with a drunken Whitecloak,
What shall we -"

SPLASH!

There is a brief moment of shocked silence, before the demonic duo burst into song again.

"Thrown overboard by a ten-foot Trolloc,
Thrown overboard by a ten-foot Trolloc,
Thrown overboard by a ten-foot Trolloc,
Early in the morning!"

"Well done, Snarg!" Shadar applauds. "Couldn't have thought of better myself."

"All right, all right," Shaiel sets hands on hips, "wetlander humour is one thing and this is the place for it, but one of you two is going to get him out again, I trust?" She taps her belt knife suggestively.

Shani pouts. "Oh - all right." Sycho floats up out of the water and back on deck. Not singing this time. Yelling. They still manage to drown him out.

"A fitting fate for such a bad singer,
A fitting fate for such a bad singer,
A fitting fate for such a bad singer,
Early in the -"

"We're here," the Sailmistress interrupts them.

Everyone looks around. Nothing but water and sky can be seen in any direction. "We're where?" Shadar asks politely.

"Where you're getting off," and she scowls at them all, although giving the strong impression of trying to hide a laugh. "You didn't ask for passage to any particular spot and you've made a nuisance of yourself the whole trip, so right here and now I say this is as far as you're going on my ship!"

Shani and Shadar look at each other, shrug, and build a gateway. (Yes, the author is quite aware of the difficulties of Travelling to or from a moving ship, but Shadar and Shani aren't, or don't choose to be, so it doesn't bother them.) The party makes their way through, as the Sea Folk start singing;

"What did we do to deserve these madmen,
What did we do to deserve these madmen,
What did we do to deserve these madmen -"

And everybody joins in as the gateway closes -

"- Early in the morning!"

***

Episode #16: The Incredible Dancing Trollocs

"Where," Shaiel demands, "in Shayol Ghul are we?"

"No, it's not Shayol Ghul," Shani says absently, looking around, "we've been there."

"Kind of dark," Shadar chimes in, "but not a bad spot for a hand or two of poker. You do need to take your own chairs, though, the rocks are pretty hard for sitting on."

Shaiel counts to ten. "Where - are - we?"

"Oh, is that what you wanted to know? You should have been clearer." Shani shrugs. "I haven't the faintest idea. Have you, Shadar?"

"Nope."

"You two built the gateway here!"

Shani and Shadar look at her blankly. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"I give up." Shaiel sits down, stretching her legs out. "Tell me when you've -"

"Ladies and gentlemen! LADIES and GENTLEMEN! Welcome, welcome, WELCOME to the Craziest Show On Earth!"

Shaiel jumps up and everyone spins around as the voice booms out.

"Welcome, welcome!" The speaker is a middle-aged man, dressed - ah - 'colourfully' would probably be the most complimentary term. 'Gaudily', 'shockingly' and 'by a tailor with total colour blindness' might also apply. Shaiel, Sycho, Someone and Snarg stare at him in disbelief.

"Stranger!" Shadar and Shani exclaim simultaneously.

A second later, both say simultaneously "You know him too?" then, shrugging, answer each other "'Fraid so."

"He's called Stranger," Shadar explains to the rest, "because he never met anyone stranger than him. At least -"

" - not until I met you two!" Stranger crows gleefully. "The only people in the whole world madder than I am! I see you already know each other, and may I say, what a lovely couple you make!"

Shadar bows. Shani curtsies. Everyone else looks bewildered.

"So, what are you up to these days?" Shadar enquires.

"I am engaged," and Stranger strikes an oratorical pose, "in the production of a masterpiece! For years now I have worked toward one goal, that of creating the strangest dance troupe ever to exist -" a dramatic pause -

"The Incredible Dancing Trollocs!"

"Dancing what?"

"Trollocs! You know what Trollocs are, surely? Yes, of course you must," and Stranger blinks as he turns to look at the speaker, "you are one! Have you by any chance been taught dancing? We could do with another in the chorus line, you see..."

"Snarg no dance! Dancing stupid!"

"Snarg," Shani chides him, "that's not nice! And after all the trouble I went to teaching you manners!" She turns to Stranger. "I managed to teach him a few steps. He isn't really very graceful. He talks quite well, though..."

"Teaching a Trolloc to talk," Stranger says loftily, "is nothing compared to teaching one to dance. Which is what I have been working on. Of course he isn't graceful. I've never seen a Trolloc that was. That's the challenge of it."

Shadar nods seriously. "And have you had any success...?"

"Judge for yourselves!" Stranger is immediately back to his pose. "I have the honour of presenting to you – The Incredible Dancing Trollocs! MAESTRO!"

Music starts playing from somewhere nearby. From behind a nearby corpse of trees appear...

"Oh, my goodness," Someone murmurs faintly, turning away.

"Trollocs in -" Sycho stares disbelievingly – "tutus?"

Shaiel swallows. "I knew I should have stayed in the Three-Fold Land..."

Eighteen ten-foot tall, horned, hooved or claw-footed creatures in gauzy, snow-white tutus glide and pirouette over the grass. Snarg watches avidly.

"'Trolloc Lake'?" Shadar manages in a somewhat strangled tone.

Shani's lips move as she whispers to herself. "I am not going to laugh. I am not going to laugh. I am not going to -"

She catches Shadar's eye, and bursts into laughter.

"You're laughing," Stranger says accusingly, and somewhat needlessly.

"So much for Aes Sedai infallibility," Shadar says cheerfully. "Well, Stranger, I congratulate you on a truly unique dance troupe. That accomplishment may just have returned you to the status of strangest person in Randland."

Stranger grins, triumphantly. The music switches to "We Are The Champions".

"But don't get complacent," Shani warns him after recovering from her fit of laughter. "We're right behind you! We're mad, we're bad and we're dangerous to know – and anyone who can identify that quote wins -"

Someone perks up. "It was said by -"

"- absolutely nothing. Besides, I was talking to the readers."

"Oh." The Ogier looks disappointed, and mutters under his breath (i.e. loud enough to be heard clearly a mile away) "You got it wrong, anyway."

"Did not. I adapted it to the situation." Shani turns back to Stranger. "It was nice meeting you. But I'm afraid we really have to leave now."

Shadar glances at her. "We do? Why?"

"I thought we should go -" She glances back at the others, who are listening (it's always a good idea to pay attention to these two – you never know what they might take it into their minds to do with very little warning) and weaves an anti-eavesdropping ward around her and Shadar. What she says is inaudible to everyone else, but soon has Shadar laughing.

"Good idea!" he agrees as the ward dissolves. "All right, everybody, get ready! We're going visiting!"

"Visiting who?" Sycho demands suspiciously.

"Now that would be telling, wouldn't it? Wait and see. C'mon, Snarg!"

There is no answer.

"Snarg?"

"Snarg – not coming."

"Not coming? What do you mean?" Shani follows the direction of his gaze. "Oh."

The others look in the same direction. The object of Snarg's intent regard is a female Trolloc.

(NOTE: Trolloc gender is a matter that most people prefer not to have precisely described to them. That being so, you may use your imaginations. For now, it suffices to note that said female Trolloc is somewhat smaller than Snarg, and that her fur is rather more neatly combed. Also, a pink ribbon is tied to one of her horns.)

"Oh, no," Shadar groans, casting his eyes up to the sky. "Snarg's in love."

"Ah! Dear little Snargette. One of my best students." Stranger looks critically at the dancer. "Yes, I suppose by Trolloc standards she would be quite attractive..."

"Let's not get any further into this," Someone breaks in hastily.

"I agree," Sycho says firmly. "And I very much object to any idea of Snarg leaving. I know who that leaves as the butt of any jokes in this group!"

Shadar and Shani look at each other, and snicker. "Don't worry, Sycho," Shani pats him on the shoulder, "you're going to be the butt for the whole next episode anyway..."

"What?"

The dance ends. "Well, let me introduce you to Snargette," Stranger says briskly, leading Snarg off toward the dancers, and leaving the other five looking at each other.

"Who's going to carry my books if he leaves?" Someone demands. "That's what I want to know!"

"What do you mean, I'm the butt for the next episode?"

Shani answers Sycho. "Wait and see."

Shadar answers Someone. "Well, if you can't, I suppose we'll have to."

"What? With the Power?"

"No, of course not. With insanity. We'll just get them to float along behind us. That's completely against the laws of gravity and thermodynamics and the rest, so it should be easy enough..."

Shani shrugs. "Well, they seem to be getting on pretty well, so let's go." She glances at Shaiel. "You've been pretty quiet. No complaints?"

"Would they do any good?"

"Not one bit. Don't worry, you'll like this next episode. Ready, everyone? Then let's go!"

A gateway rotates open, and Someone's books start floating through. The group, minus one, follow them through it as Stranger, Snarg and Snargette wave goodbye.

Sycho turns to see where they are. "Oh, no..."

They are standing in the courtyard of a fairly large house, built in the Amadician style. Sycho takes a step back toward the gateway, which promptly snaps shut.

"Sycho! Sycho Path!" A middle-aged woman is striding toward them. "What are you doing back here without notice? I suppose you expect all your meals cooked and your laundry done too! You haven't even written! And just who are all these people you've brought home without so much as a by-your-leave?"

"...Mother?"

He glares at Shani and Shadar, who are laughing fit to burst.

***

Episode 17: Origins of Insanity - Sycho

Continued from episode #16, The Incredible Dancing Trollocs.

"Mother?"

Shaiel is trying to hide a smirk. Someone has his face buried in a book, but the occasional chuckle still emerges. Shadar and Shani are leaning against each other, laughing, making it quite clear that they find the situation very funny indeed.

Which is hardly surprising, since they set it up in the first place.

Sycho winces as his mother's tirade continues.

"How could you? You disappear from the Fortress of the Light without a trace and now you turn up again with this red-shawled hussy -" the description sends Shani into a fresh fit of laughter – "and this black-coated lunatic -" that sets Shadar off again – "and this other pair who look like they just stepped out of a gleeman's tale – what will the neighbours think?"

"It wasn't my idea! I was going to stay away as long as possible – I mean -" Sycho glares at Shadar and Shani, who are being spectacularly unhelpful, then casts his eyes up to the sky. "How about some help from you, narrator?"

A voice whispers on the wind. (Yes, that wind.) "Sorry, Sycho. I make it a rule not to interfere in my characters' business."

"Some good you are!" Sycho takes a step and promptly trips over. "Hey! What do you call that if it's not interfering?"

"Clumsiness?"

"Hah!" Sycho takes another step. And trips over again.

"Well, that's what you get for believing in narrators," Shadar observes, grinning at Shani. "Not to mention -"

"- forgetting to tie your shoelaces."

Sycho looks down at his shoelaces, which are, of course, untied. Whether they were at the beginning of the scene no one is quite sure, except possibly Raina. But they definitely are now. He ties them sullenly. "DarkHound always interacted with his characters."

"Well, I could make a poodle fall from the sky if you really want..."

"Oh, forget it!"

Shani, Shadar, Someone, Shaiel and Raina all laugh. Then they turn their attention back to the plot of the story. Such as it is.

"Good morning, Mistress Path," Shani says briskly. "We're just visiting. You see, it dawned on me that you probably hadn't any idea what your son had been up to, so we decided to drop by and let you know."

Mistress Path snorts. "Well, you could have done that with a letter. For that matter you could have saved yourself the trouble and kept him away."

"Oh, it was no trouble at all!" Shadar protests.

"Not for us," Shani murmurs, quite audibly. Sycho glares at both of them.

"I suppose you'd better come in. I certainly don't want you hanging around here. What will I say if anyone sees you?" Sycho's mother ushers – well, pushes – them all into the house. "Find yourself somewhere to sit. Just clear off a space."

Shaiel looks curiously around the living room, which bears clear signs of occupancy by young children – toys everywhere, scribbles on the walls and small, muddy footprints on the floor. "I didn't know you had siblings, Sycho."

"Of course you didn't! I don't tell anyone about my family!" Sycho collapses into a chair, as his mother sits down and reaches for a sizeable pile of clothes in need of mending. "I don't know how these two found out."

"We have our sources," Shani says sweetly.

"We asked the narrator," Shadar translates.

"Non-interference, she says." Sycho scowls up at the sky. "Hah! Non-interference except when it makes the story interesting, more like."

"Smart boy, isn't he?" Raina observes. "Watch out. Your dear little brother and sister are on their way."

Sycho barely has time to flinch before the door bursts open and two small whirlwinds blow into the room. The whirlwind wearing trousers launches himself at Sycho. The one in a dress grabs his cloak and starts swinging on it. "Mamma! Mamma! We heard Syky was back! Hi, Syky!"

"I wanna play with the helmet!"

"I wanna play with the sword!"

"I wanna piggyback! Gimme a piggyback, Syky!"

"Me too! Gimme gimme gimme!"

"Get OFF me!" Sycho attempts, unsuccessfully, to remove the pair clinging to him. "Ouch! Let go! I swear, you two must be the brattiest kids ever!"

Someone coughs. "Actually, Sycho, the record for obnoxious childhood is currently held by the young Nemene Damendar Boann, nowadays better known as Semirhage, whose preferred occupation as a girl was devising new ways to torture her siblings..."

"Torture?" In a second the two have let go of Sycho and turned their attention to Someone, looking bright-eyed and eager. "Tell us more!"

"Don't you dare!" Sycho and his mother say (well, shout) in unison.

The Terrible Two pout. Then they look around and spot the other Terrible Two. "Who're you?"

"I'm Shani."

"I'm Shadar."

"Are you crazy like Syky?"

"No. We went past crazy long ago. We're completely insane. So who are you, other than the second-brattiest kids ever?"

"I'm Madcap," the boy says gleefully.

"I'm Mayhem," his sister says smugly.

"What pretty names," Shaiel says politely (wondering all the while if this is wetlander humour). "What are you two planning to do when you grow up?"

"We're going to be Darkfriends!" Mayhem announces.

Sycho groans and sinks lower in his chair, eyes closed. Mistress Path sniffs and goes on with her sewing. Someone starts writing in his notebook. Shani and Shadar look at each other and grin.

"I see," Shaiel says with a perfectly straight face (it must be an Aiel Talent, as not even Shani and Shadar can manage it at this point). "You want to be Darkfriends because...?"

"Because then the Whitecloaks'll never catch us," Madcap explains. "They only ever caught a real Darkfriend once, and they had to let him go because people wouldn't have put up with it. They told us that in school."

Under his breath, Sycho mutters "Just as long as they didn't mention pink elephants."

"If you really want to be Darkfriends," Shadar says, "we can arrange an introduction to the Dark One for you. He owes us – we won Shayol Ghul from him, you see, and he'd rather not lose it."

"Although he's contesting that now," Shani adds, "on the grounds that he never saw a pack of cards before with thirteen aces."

"A few spares always come in handy." Shadar pats the pack of cards in his pocket. "So when you finish school, just let us know and we'll drop by Shayol Ghul and talk to him. He'll be imprisoned by then and looking for someone to let him loose again. Now it's really time we got onto the next episode, so if you'll excuse us, Mistress Path – give our regards to your husband, wherever he is..."

"He's in the laundry," Mayhem says with the kind of wicked grin that suggests she doesn't really need much training in doing evil and Darkfriendly deeds.

"Cause we put red dye in the wash," Madcap clarifies with an equally evil grin, "and he's trying to get his cloaks from pink back to white."

"I can see how being referred to as a Pinkcloak would be a liability," Shadar agrees. "Well, goodbye. Sycho, Shaiel, Someone – c'mon, we're going visiting again."

Sycho opens an eye. "Where now?"

"Well, since Raina's continuing the theme of 'Origins of Insanity' the next house we're due to visit is -" Shadar glances at a list – "Shani's."

The gateway opens onto Arad Doman.

***

Episode 18: Origins of Insanity - Shani

Continuing on their round of family visits, our insane heroes minus the absent Snarg arrive at the domicile of their dazzling Domani dart-thrower. That is, at Shani's house. A very elegant manor, surrounded by gardens, in the heart of glamorous Bandar Eban.

From one side of the house, an attractive, coppery-skinned young woman in thin, clinging silk, followed by a rather forgettable young man, hurries out to greet them.

From the other side of the house, an attractive, coppery-skinned young woman in thin, clinging silk, followed by a rather forgettable young man, hurries out to greet them.

Shani laughs as her companions do double-takes.

"Shani!" they exclaim in unison and in identical voices. "Welcome home!" A triple hug occurs before the young women turn identically dazzling smiles to the rest of the group. "Hello! How lovely to see you all!"

"Likewise," Sycho remarks appreciatively. "And you two are - ?"

"I'm Cara," the one on the left says. "This is Dara." They both pause, then whisper together for a moment. "I'm sorry, this is Cara, and I'm Dara. We always get confused around strangers."

"Uh – yes, of course. Quite understandable," Sycho says blankly. Cara and Dara are apparently not the only ones who get confused.

"These are my sisters," Shani says blithely, "and in case you hadn't noticed it yet, they're identical twins. These are their husbands, whose names I forget and who are only plot devices anyway. And this is Shadar, Sycho, Shaiel and Someone. We thought we'd drop by for a visit."

"How nice!" Cara, probably, says brightly.

"Mother will be so pleased to meet you!" Dara, probably.

"Do come on in!" The twins usher them into the manor. "Darling, do go tell Mother we have guests." One of the forgettable husbands hurries away immediately.

Someone, frowning, is studying the twins with his pen poised over his notebook. "How does one tell them apart?" he inquires in an Ogier whisper, which means of course that everyone in the room hears it.

Shaiel is also frowning. "At a guess, I'd say – one doesn't?"

"Doesn't what?" An elegant, imperious-looking Domani woman sweeps into the room, trailing a cloud of perfume, the twin husband and an equally forgettable older man who is presumably Shani's father.

"Tell the twins apart," Shani replies. "Hello, Mother. You're looking well."

"Naturally." The woman takes her seat, and lifts a finger. The cushions are immediately plumped up, a footstool brought and tea in a fine porcelain cup set conveniently near her hand by her clearly doting husband. "Do introduce your friends, Shani."

"Mother, this is Shadar, a mad Asha'man, Sycho, a drunken Whitecloak, Shaiel, a Maiden of the Spear with a strange sense of humour, and Someone, an Ogier who's writing a book about the rest of us. Everyone, this is my mother Prima, whose middle name, in case you were wondering, is Donna."

"Ah," Someone murmurs. "A matriarchy. Domani classic style, I see..." He starts scribbling.

"Charmed." Prima sips her tea. "A little more honey, dear. Thank you. As for the twins, it's easy. Cara parts her hair on the left and Dara parts it on the right."

Everyone looks at the twins, both of whom have their hair parted in the middle.

Prima shrugs. "Sometimes they get confused."

The twins pout prettily. "Oh, Mother," Cara, or possibly Dara, says. "You make it sound as if we get mixed up every day."

"You do, dear. But never mind now. Wherever are the children?"

"They must be out playing." Dara, or possibly Cara, turns to her particular forgettable husband. "Darling, do bring the girls in to say hello."

"Yes, dear." After uttering the only words ever spoken by a male family member in this episode, the young man hurries away and returns after a moment with three identical little girls in tow.

"Hi, Auntie Shani!" the three exclaim in unison and in identical voices. Sycho is heard to groan.

"Say hello to your aunt's guests too," Prima reminds them.

The little girls immediately smile up at Shadar, Sycho, Shaiel and Someone, looking absolutely adorable and knowing it. "Hello, everyone!"

"Welcome to our home."

"We're so glad to see you."

Someone nods and says again, "Domani classic style."

"Yes, they're coming along very nicely." Shani smiles at the girls. "Well done."

"Whose children are they?" Shaiel asks, realizing it hasn't been made clear.

Prima and Shani look amused. Dara and Cara look slightly embarassed. "Well," one of them says, "the thing is, we're not absolutely sure. One of us had twins and the other one didn't, and..."

"...we sort of lost track."

Sycho groans again.

Shadar laughs. "Well, I've heard of questions of paternity, but..."

The Triplets That Aren't are getting bored with the conversation. One of them tugs at Someone's trouser leg (seeing as how she couldn't reach any higher). "Tell us a story, please?" she begs sweetly. Another one smiles up at him beguilingly. The third contents herself with a big-eyed, pleading gaze.

Domani classic style being extremely effective, even practised by beginners on theoretically immune nonhumans, Someone immediately agrees.

"Tell us what Auntie Shani's been up to!" one says, giggling. The other two, plus their mothers and grandmother, agree enthusiastically. Even the forgettable husbands look interested.

"Ah. Well..." Someone settles himself in a large chair, with the triple act happily curled up in his lap and the rest of the family listening in anticipation. "That's a long story. I believe it all started when she walked into the Black Tower..."

***

Episode 19: Origins of Insanity - Shadar

You will recall, gentle reader, and for that matter not-so-gentle reader, that at the conclusion of the last episode Someone was just settling down to recount Shani's adventures to her family, consisting of three charming women, three adorable little girls, and three extremely forgettable men. Life's like that in Arad Doman.

But you all know what Shani's been up to. If you don't, what are you doing reading this episode without having read the rest first? So we'll skip over that scene, and the subsequent goodbyes, and get to what you all really want to know.

Sycho's family is a dysfunctional mix of Whitecloaks, would-be Darkfriends and a long-suffering housewife...

Shani's is a mad matriarchy with an absurd number of identity crises...

So what, in the name of the Light, is Shadar's family like?

Well, to tell you the truth, they're actually –

"Hey! Don't spoil the story!"

Sorry about that, Shadar. Over to you.

"Thank you. If you look over that way, everyone, you can see my parents' house just up ahead."

They all look in the direction indicated, where, on the side of a hill, is indeed a small cottage. Freshly painted, with a neat picket fence and flowers growing by the door, it could have come straight from a picture. But something seems – not quite right.

"Shadar?"

"Yes?"

"This is the Blight."

"Yes, I know. They're getting old, and they wanted to retire somewhere warm. But they didn't feel like moving south, so they built farther north instead."

"Uh – yes. Perfect sense." Someone shrugs and reaches for his ever-present notebook. After being around Shadar and Shani so long, he's gotten used to what they refer to as 'logic.'

A path leads up the hill right to the front door of the cottage. But it seems something else has been there ahead of them.

"Oh, you have a dog!" Sycho says brightly, looking at the paw print in the path.

"Shadar?" Shaiel is looking around warily. "Is there something about your family we should know?"

"Hey, what's the matter? It's just a dog." Sycho's brow furrows as he looks at the print again. "Pretty big dog, though. What kind grows that size?"

"Sycho," Shani says patiently, "only one kind of dog leaves prints in solid rock."

There is, as is customary at moments such as these, a pause while everyone stares at the print. Sycho's brain rapidly adds two and two.

"Really? What kind's that?"

No one ever said Sycho could do sums.

The cottage door swings open, and they all look through to see – something – lying in front of the fireplace. Something very big, very black and staring at them with glowing red eyes.

"Oh -" Sycho swallows. "That kind."

"Here, Shadow!" Shadar calls.

The Darkhound rises, shakes itself – causing a few people to jump back in alarm – and pads over to Shadar, who pats it on the head.

Shaiel looks at its immense jaws and teeth. "I do not want to know what kind of bones that thing chews..."

"Actually," Shadar says, "he's vegetarian."

There is another pause while they all ponder this latest piece of unbelievability. The pause is broken by the woman who comes through the door.

"Shadar, dear! How lovely to see you home."

Shadar's mother looks – well, motherly. Plump, fairly short, starting to go grey, wrapped in a spotless white apron and with a warm smile for her guests. In other words, she looks normal.

Whatever the party were expecting, it wasn't this.

"Don't stand there on ceremony, come right in. Wipe your feet on the mat though," she chides. "Come and sit down. I just baked cookies."

"Cookies?" Someone says, blinking. "What kind?"

"Chocolate chip. Still nice and warm. Now come on in." Shadar's mother bustles them all through the door.

Someone lingers behind to whisper, "Raina, chocolate hasn't been invented here yet!"

"It has now," comes the response. "Now hurry in, there's a plot development coming up."

"I have a surprise for you," Shadar's mother is saying as Someone follows the others in. "A friend of yours is here already."

They all look.

"Snarg!"

The Trolloc is seated on the sofa, carefully holding a delicate porcelain cup of tea (except that in his hand, it looks like a thimble) and a chocolate-chip cookie. A plate of similar cookies is on the table in front of him.

"Hey there, Snarg," Shadar says, grinning. "How's life treating you? What happened to Snargette?"

To aid in conveying the nuances of his explanation, Snarg puts his tea and cookie down and delivers an eloquent speech, punctuated by impassioned gestures, about the obstacles on the path of true love and the sorrow of inevitable separation.

"Snarg go. Snargette stay."

Well, that was what he meant it to be about, anyway. He would surely have phrased it that way had he been less of a beginner to the art of making eloquent speeches. But Trollocs have never really felt the need for linguistic skills in the past, and in moments of high emotion even a Trolloc genius like Snarg reverts to his normal speech pattern.

"Too bad," Shadar sympathises.

Shaiel pats him on the shoulder. "Never mind. You'll find a nice girl – uh, a nice Trolloc – someday and settle down."

"I don't believe I'm having this conversation," Sycho mutters.

"You're not," Shani points out.

"Well, I don't believe I'm listening to it, then." Sycho suddenly gets a hopeful thought. "Now he's back, you won't need to use me as the butt of jokes all the time now, will you?"

"Don't count on it."

Sycho sighs.

"Cheer up. Have a cookie."

Everyone else has already helped themselves to the cookies, with the exception of Snarg, who has already finished his and is looking wistfully at the plate.

"Go on, have another," Shadar's mother says with another pat on his shoulder, "growing boys like you need to eat."

"Growing? Hasn't he grown enough?" But Someone is also eyeing them. So, for that matter, is everyone else. These are, to use an old turn of phrase, darn fine cookies.

"You have another, too." Everybody takes that to mean them, and promptly follows Snarg's example. "But make sure to leave some for Pa. Wherever is he, I wonder?"

"Here I am."

They look around, no doubt in hopes of seeing at least one seriously weird parent for Shadar, but with no such luck. Shadar's father is a pleasant-looking, ordinary, grey-haired man in old clothes, with nothing at all strange about him. "Sorry I missed your arrival. I was bringing some more plants in for the garden. Hello, Shadar, how have you been?"

"Great," Shadar replies. "Let me introduce my friends. This is Shani, this is Shaiel, that's Sycho, the Ogier is Someone, and I guess you've already met Snarg."

"So I have. Glad to meet the rest of you, though." Shadar's father sits down and lights a pipe.

"You have a garden?" Someone asks, interested. "What kind of plants can you get to grow here in the Blight?"

Shadar's father considers that, blowing a smoke ring. "Well," he says finally, "you do have to be careful when they get hungry."

This remark conjures up a number of images that, to tell the truth, the visitors didn't really want conjured up all that much. Someone, who was about to ask to see the garden, closes his mouth.

"Plants catch Myrddraal," Snarg rumbles. "Stupid Myrddraal."

"Now, Snarg," Shadar's mother scolds him, "it's not nice to speak ill of the dead."

"Yes, that was terrible," Shadar's father agrees. "A Myrddraal must have gotten into the shadow of one of the trees and well – not gotten out again. A terrible accident. We try to stay on good terms with our neighbours."

"The Dark One included, of course," Shadar adds.

"Of course." His father nods. "We went to see him once, but the weather there is pretty bad, so we haven't been again. I think he must think we're getting deaf, though, he talks so loudly."

"Oh, he does that all the time," Shani comments. "That reminds me – Sycho's little brother and sister are planning to be Darkfriends when they grow up. You might see them around."

"Why, that would be very nice. Shadow's been lonely without any children to play with."

Sycho shakes his head.

"Now, will you be staying for dinner? No? Then let me give you some cookies to take with you." Shadar's mother bustles into the kitchen and returns with a large tin of assorted cookies. "Have a pleasant journey now. Wrap up warmly once you're out of the Blight. Don't forget to write, Shadar."

"Yes, mother."

Snarg carries the cookies carefully, with the other five watching suspiciously to make sure he doesn't take any when their backs are turned. But when they're out of earshot of Shadar's parents – even out of earshot for a Trolloc voice – he whispers to them.

"No one like stupid Myrddraal."

"What, the one that got eaten?" Shani asks. "That was good luck for you, then."

"Not luck." Snarg grins. "Myrddraal look for Snarg."

"And what made it think you happened to be there at the time?" Shadar enquires.

Snarg's grin just broadens.

And the journey continues.

***

Episode 20: Sharis and Sneak

Before this episode starts, I would like to acknowledge the contribution of Ravensong from GT, who created the title characters. Ravensong, you said I could take this idea and run with it or throw it into the Pit of Doom – so I hope you won't mind my doing both.

And now...

Shadar, Shani, Shaiel, Sycho, Someone and Snarg are wandering through northern Shienar when something strange happens.

It could be an earthquake.

It could be a freak occurrence resulting from the random action of a far-off ta'veren.

It could be the Pattern refusing to put up with so much insanity in one place.

But what it actually is is narrative imperative – which means that when the ground erupts beneath their feet, Someone and Snarg are thrown in one direction, Shaiel in another, Sycho falls into a river which carries him swiftly oceanwards, and Shani and Shadar, when the dust clears, look around to find that they've ended up...

"Uh-oh," Shani murmurs.

SO. A voice rumbles like thunder. MY MAD ADVERSARIES.

"Your creditors, you mean," Shadar retorts. "You still owe us from that poker game."

AFTER TIME TO REFLECT, I HAVE DECIDED THAT THIRTEEN ACES RENDERS ALL RESULTS INVALID. If faceless thunder could smirk, that's exactly what the Dark One would be doing at the moment. BUT CHEATING INCURS A PENALTY.

"So? You can't do anything to us. This isn't your story."

YOU ARE PARTIALLY RIGHT. I CANNOT HARM YOU.

"Well, then - "

I DISCUSSED MATTERS WITH YOUR CREATOR, HOWEVER. The smirk is back. SHE LIKED MY IDEA. AND SO, SHADAR AND SHANI, I SENTENCE YOU...

The thunder has become laughter.

TO MEET TWO PEOPLE JUST AS CRAZY AS YOU!

The ground erupts again, and the pair are thrown out of the Pit of Doom, landing right back where they started. Brushing themselves off, they look at each other in disbelief.

"Other people as crazy as us?" Shani says. "That's not possible."

"It is you!"

They turn around to see a woman approaching. She has long black hair, green eyes, is not quite wearing something that doesn't quite qualify as a dress...

(Shani makes a mental note to find out the name of the other woman's dressmaker)

...and a shawl with a...

"Well, well," Shadar remarks.

...black fringe.

"All right." Shani shakes her head. "Maybe I was wrong."

"I've been looking all over for you!" The Black sister, which is presumably what the newcomer is, comes up to them. "You see, I heard you and your friends specialise in doing just what you want to as insanely and flamboyantly as possible. I was hoping to find us a situation like that."

Shani raises an eyebrow. " 'Us'?"

"Of course." The green-eyed woman smiles. "Allow me to introduce us. I am Sharis of the Black Ajah, and this..."

A pool of shadow beneath a cliff darkens, and a man slips out of it. He flourishes a bow to Shani and Shadar, and pulls Sharis toward him in a manner that could be generally described as scandalous. He's tall, lean, dressed in black.

Oh, and he doesn't have any eyes.

"...is my Warder." Sharis' smile widens. "Meet Sneak."

Shadar nods slowly. "That's pretty insane, all right."

"You have a problem with that?"

"I'm an Asha'man hanging around with a Red sister. What do you think?"

"I think we're all crazy. So what shall we do now?"

"Well." Shani considers. "The normal course of action would be for us to go drive someone else crazy. Which we should be able to do twice as effectively, now. That's nice, but we should probably find out first what our narrator's got planned..."

"No chance, Shani. I'm improvising as it is."

"Oh." Shani shrugs. "Let's just go, then. Would you like to meet our friends?"

"By all means. Shall we shadow-travel?" Sharis gestures toward the cliff.

Shadar blinks. "Fades can transport other people?"

"Normally, no."

"Abnormally, yes?"

"You guessed it."

"In that case," Shadar grins, "we should have no trouble."

The four walk into the shadow...

...and disappear.

Raina smiles. "This should be fun."

***

Episode 21: The Misunderstood Species

"It is entirely clear to me now that Trollocs are misunderstood."

Someone's audience, seated in the shady and pleasant atmosphere of a stedding, listen attentively. And in the shadow of a nearby Great Tree, a momentary movement is arrested as the Ogier utters this first sentence. He continues.

"We have been accustomed to thinking of Trollocs as rude, uncivilised and barbaric, in the event that we think of them at all. And while this generalisation is not entirely false -"

"Hey!"

"Shh, I'm talking!" Someone gives his companion a reproving look. "As I was saying, while this generalisation is not entirely false, there is much in the Trolloc species that we have hitherto been unaware of. As I have explained to you, I have of late been travelling in the company of a rather unique group, which happened to include a Trolloc. This came about, naturally, in the course of my research on the nature of insanity, as I had in consideration of this research sought out the most insane people I could locate in order to observe their behaviour. I will of course present to you the results of this study, which I have recorded carefully in book form under the working title of - But where was I? Ah, yes.

"I was speaking of Trollocs, and there seems to me to be no better way to demonstrate to you my contention that Trollocs are misunderstood, than to allow one to speak for himself. Elders, Speakers, Ogier all, allow me to present to you - Snarg!"

Someone stands down. Snarg stands up. A smothered laugh is heard from within the shadow.

"Snarg say, hello."

"As my Trolloc companion here is not fully versed in our language, I will provide the service of translating his remarks for you. Snarg greets all of you and indicates his pleasure at being here today."

"People say Snarg stupid. Snarg not stupid, people stupid."

"Snarg expresses his distress at the unthinking assumption of many people that Trollocs are unreasoning brutes. He strongly disagrees with this claim and asserts his own intelligence, pointing out that it is those who make such assumptions that are in fact guilty of failing to utilize reason in their arguments."

"Same people say Trollocs violent. Snarg not violent! Snarg hit people who say Trollocs violent!"

"Snarg uses subtle irony to dispute the stereotype of his species as a rampaging horde whose only interest is in destruction. Snarg himself is the most peace-loving of individuals."

More muffled laughter from the shadows. The Ogier audience, who have better manners, continue to listen respectfully.

"Myrddraal fault."

"Rather, it is the bullying of their Myrddraal commanders that forces Trollocs to engage in war, an occupation that does not come naturally to them."

"Snarg tired of Myrddraal, Snarg leave."

"Snarg, rebelling against Myrddraal tyranny as well as human stereotyping, has chosen to make his own way in the world, independent of the coercion of either Light or Shadow."

"Snarg finish now. Snarg say, thanks."

"He concludes his speech and expresses his gratitude to you for your attention and consideration. In summary, may I emphasize to you, Trollocs are misunderstood!"

Snarg bows. Someone bows. Their audience applaud, although, of course, not in any way that could be considered hasty. More, and louder, clapping comes from the shadow of the Great Tree.

"Bravo! Bravo! Bravissima!"

"Shadar?"

The Asha'man emerges from shadow. "A star performance by both of you. Why, Snarg, your speech was truly inspiring. And Someone, I was very impressed by the speed and accuracy of your translations."

"Snarg say thanks."

Someone blushes. "Well, ah - thank you."

Stepping out of the shadow herself, Shani reaches up to pat Snarg on the cheek. "That was a very nice speech, Snarg. Very well crafted. Are you both ready to go again now?"

"Sure."

"Well, I would not wish to be hasty in deciding, but I do have much unfinished research regarding all of you, so it would perhaps not be unreasonable to accompany you further..."

"Then meet our new friends." Shani waves toward the tree, where two more figures now emerge. They are, of course, our guests from the last episode - Sharis, wearing her black-fringed shawl and not much else, and Sneak, having now donned sunglasses which he briefly raises.

Someone blinks. So do all the other Ogier.

Snarg's reaction is a little less subdued. "Shani play trick? Snarg angry! Not travel with Myrddraal or Dreadlord!"

"Snarg!" Shani looks shocked. "Surely you of all people wouldn't deny two individuals the right to seek their true selves away from limiting stereotypes? After that speech you just made?"

The Ogier, and Shadar, all applaud her. Sharis curtsies, and Sneak bows. What can Snarg possibly say now, except -

"Shani crazy."

"Thank you, Snarg. I really appreciate the compliment." She pats the Trolloc on the cheek again. "Shall we go?"

One by one, they disappear into the shadow.

***

Episode 22: Mothers of the Dragon

"You should not eat your dinner so fast, Rand al'Thor."

"You will catch cold if you do not put your coat on, Rand al'Thor."

"Why are you groaning, Rand al'Thor? Do you not feel well?"

Rand al'Thor, the Car'a'carn, He Who Comes With The Dawn, the Dragon Reborn, seriously considers starting the Last Battle right then.

Min stifles a laugh.

"It's all very well for you," Rand growls. He addresses the Maidens clustered around them. "I feel fine, thank you. I'm quite warm. I won't eat too fast. And before anyone says anything, I will remember not to stay up too late. Now will you please go away?"

The Maidens do not stifle their laughs. But they do go away. Eventually. Min is looking at him oddly.

"What?" he asks. "I wasn't that rude. And they think it's all a joke anyway. I don't know where I got so many mothers from all of a sudden..."

"It's not that." She tilts her head, peering up at him. "I can see an aura about you like nothing else I ever saw. Something's going to happen soon. Not bad. Just very, very strange."

Rand sighs. "Well, not bad is a nice change anyway."

Meanwhile, the Maidens are talking. And laughing. And listening outside the door. As soon as Rand falls silent, the door opens and a Maiden pokes her head in.

"Is everything all right, Rand al'Thor?"

"Fine!"

The Maiden withdraws. Rand sighs. Min hides a smile.

"It's not easy being Dragon," Rand says, looking moodily into the distance. And winning the prize for understatement of the century. "There's something wrong about Taim, Min. I don't trust the man further than I can throw him."

"With or without the Power?"

Rand might laugh, except that another Maiden chooses that moment to look around the door. "Are you sure everything is all right, Rand al'Thor?"

"Fine!"

The Maiden withdraws. Rand sighs, again. Min hides a smile, again.

"Min, I honestly don't know -"

"Are you absolutely positive, Rand al'Thor?"

"Yes!" Rand explodes, jumping up. "I'm fine! Everything is fine! Why do you keep asking me that? It's just a normal, completely ordinary evening for the bloody Car'a'carn!"

"Well, that's good," comes the cheerful response, "because it won't be for long."

The door closes. Rand blinks. Min blinks.

"Did she just say -"

"Hey!" Rand shouts. "Come back in here a minute?"

The door opens. A golden-haired young Maiden looks around again. "You called, Car'a'carn?"

"Why did you say that?"

"Oh -" The girl shrugs, looking faintly amused. "No particular reason, really."

"Rand!" Min whispers. She is staring at the Maiden wide-eyed. "She's not part of the regular guard – and Rand, her aura is absolutely insane."

Rand frowns. "Who are you?"

"I'm Shaiel." Then before either Rand or Min can blink, "Not that Shaiel. She just thought it was funny."

"Who did?" Rand is completely lost.

"Long story." Shaiel vanishes around the door again, and Rand and Min look at each other in confusion.

"Is this the strange thing?" Rand says.

"Not exactly," a voice comes from behind him. And as Rand spins around, reaching for saidin, from the shadows emerge...

An Asha'man. An Aes Sedai in a red shawl. Another Aes Sedai in a black shawl. A Myrddraal. A Trolloc. And, looking distinctly incongruous in the group, an Ogier even now scribbling in his notebook.

"We are."

Rand's prompt and predictable response is to launch balefire. It could have been aimed at any of them, or all of them. But it just happens to hit Shadar. The results are – well, let's look at this point by point.

A bar of molten light leaps from his hands. This is as expected.

The bar is hot enough to make fire seem cool. This is also as expected.

It leaves a bright afterimage on the onlookers' retinas. This is also, more or less, as expected.

It touches Shadar, and the results are – not.

The Asha'man completely fails to turn into mist, into a negative image of himself, or into motes struggling to keep their shape. Instead, the balefire bends, collecting around him, a white-hot glow like liquid light...

Liquid flows.

In the cup that Shadar just happens to be holding, the balefire continues to pool, filling the cup to the brim with a blinding glow. The black-clad man's eyes are not so very much dimmer.

"To insanity!"

With a grin to match his toast, Shadar raises the cup and drinks the contents down.

Rand, and the rest of the onlookers, simply gape – with the sole exception of Shani, who's never been shocked by anything in her life, and isn't about to start.

"Not bad."

Sharis applauds. "That was the coolest stunt I have ever seen."

Shadar bows.

"I'll have to see what I can do to top it," Shani remarks. She turns to the still-gaping Rand. "It's been a pleasure meeting you, Lord Dragon, and we'll have to drop in again some time, but we really came to pick up our friend here. Ready to go, Shaiel?"

"Why not?"

Shadar offers his arm to Shani. They disappear into the shadows.

Sneak offers his arm to Sharis. They disappear into the shadows.

Snarg, being a little too tall to do so, does not offer his arm to Shaiel. Nevertheless, the pair of them also disappear into the shadows.

Rand, Min, and the remaining Maidens continue to gape. After a moment, a Trolloc hand emerges from the shadows.

"Stupid Ogier!"

Snarg grabs the still-scribbling Someone, and they both disappear.

Rand finally manages to speak.

"Have I gone mad already, or did that really all just happen?"

"It happened." Min looks thoughtfully after them. "And you know, I don't think you really need to worry about Tarmon Gai'don now."

"What? Why not?"

Min points at the shadows – which are no longer anything but shadows, but her meaning is taken. "Can the Dark One really be worse than that?"

Rand considers that for a moment, then bursts into laughter.

"You should not laugh so hard, Rand al'Thor," a Maiden chides him, "you will make yourself tired."

Rand just laughs even more.

***

Episode 23: Sycho Sees Seanchan

Ladies and gentlemen, this is your narrator speaking.

In the course of the last three episodes, we've met up with a Black Ajah/Myrddraal couple, a Trolloc Rights Movement and a Rand al'Thor. The latter was, as you will no doubt recall, distinctly startled at the meeting.

We're now headed south to Ebou Dar to catch up with the long-neglected Sycho, who, after falling into a river in the Borderlands, is about to wash up in the middle of the Seanchan occupation. Don't forget to duck when you see the damane...

CRRRRAAAAACK!!!!!!!!!

Lightning cracks across the sky. The narrator falls silent.

Near the river, a wall tumbles.

Also near the river, a metallic clang is heard - the kind of sound that might be made by a Whitecloak's helmet hitting a bridge. Not too surprisingly, a groan is also heard.

"Oh - my..." Sycho, intermittently groaning, grabs the bridge and manages to haul himself out of the river. Looking around at the scene of destruction, he sighs. "You've really got it in for me today, haven't you, Raina?"

The only response is another groan from the vicinity of a nearby heap of rubble, which, on balance, probably does not come from Raina. Nevertheless, Sycho stumbles over that way to have a look. A man in a green coat is lying beneath the rubble, half-conscious. "Hey -" Sycho gingerly shakes the man's shoulder. "Hello? Are you all right?"

The young man's eyes open. He croaks out a few words.

"Blood and bloody ashes!"

"Well, I have to agree with the sentiment, but -"

CRRRRAAAAACK!!!!!!!!!

Lightning strikes again, and sends more rubble crashing down on both of them. Both lose consciousness again.

An indeterminate period of time later, Sycho opens his eyes to find himself surrounded by a number of soldiers in strange, exotic armour, several strange, exotic animals (and people) on leashes, and a strange, exotic woman with long fingernails and no hair. A groan seeming inadequate to the situation, he borrows from the vocabulary of his companion in distress.

"Blood and bloody ashes!"

"See," the woman purrs, "isn't that cute?"

Sycho blinks. 'Cute' is not a word that has often been applied to him before.

"Excuse me?"

"Why, honey, I'm not excusing you from anything. I've been looking for you." She nods to the others. "Clear up here and carry on. This is the one, all right."

"It is?" Sycho says blankly. "I mean, I am?"

"Of course you are. Ever since I decided to come here I've been dreaming of the man I'd marry someday. A fighting man - " she eyes his armour - "but an untidy rogue, prone to swearing and bad language. Oh, don't worry, I don't mind. It's really quite cute."

"Yes," Sycho mutters, "you mentioned that." His thoughts are spinning - despite the fact that the cold water has rendered him, for a wonder, sober.

"And that I'd find him under a wall, and I have, haven't I?" The young woman, who Sycho is beginning to notice is really very pretty, smiles. "And the final test was that he'd be immune to the One Power, which I always thought was impossible, but then I told the damane to Heal you and she couldn't. How did you manage that?"

Sycho blinks again. Travelling with Shani and Shadar has provided ample evidence that he is, in fact, anything but immune to the Power. "I'm - not really sure." Noticing a cool sensation against his hand, he looks down to see a silver medallion on a broken thong lying there.

After a moment of thought, he picks it up.

"Never mind! Come on, I'll take you somewhere more comfortable than a pile of rocks." She pulls him to his feet. "My name is Tuon; the Daughter of the Nine Moons."

"I'm Sycho."

"What an interesting name," Tuon purrs. She twines her arm in his. "You soldiers, clear up here - and put that other guy somewhere out of the way," she adds with a disdainful glance at the other man in the rubble. "Come on then, sweetie-pie."

Sycho follows her happily. Maybe, he thinks, the author doesn't have it in for him after all.

(Has prophecy been sidestepped? Will Mat continue his life of unwedded bliss, albeit not so blissful after losing his precious medallion? Has Sycho's career of butt-of-all-jokes really come to an end? Those are all good questions - and the author will answer them just as soon as she decides what the craziest answer would be. Until then...)

***

Episode 24: Discussions

An Aes Sedai calls upon the Creator.

"Great and mighty Creator, source of the all-pervasive Light, thy humble servant beseeches thee to hear her prayer..."

If only. Unfortunately, it doesn't work like that. This particular Aes Sedai has a more informal relationship with her maker.

"Hey, Raina!"

The only response is silence. Not just any silence, though. Connoisseurs make careful distinctions between, for instance, the silence of an empty room, the silence of blissful peace after conflict, and the silence that comes after someone has just said something shocking. In this case, it was the pointed silence of someone who is determinedly ignoring someone else in the hope that that person will go away.

Alas, it doesn't work like that either.

"Raina!" A pause. "Raina? Are you listening to me? Hey, Raina!" Another pause. "I'm not going to go away any time soon, you know. You should know, anyway. After all, you created me."

Somewhere in another time and space, a motion sends quivers through the threads of the Pattern - the motion of someone giving up and slamming a book shut. A voice echoes from the sky.

"To my eternal annoyance! What do you want, Shani?"

"What do you think? Do you know how long it's been since the last episode?"

"So? I'm busy."

"No you're not. You just can't think of a plot for the next one."

A bolt of lightning flashes down at Shani, who neatly sidesteps.

"Temper, temper. You're going to have to move Sycho anyway, you know. Mat already met Tuon in Winters Heart."

"I know! I'll get around to it."

"You don't have to make it a proper plot, you know. Just grab him and get writing. The readers don't have the sense to notice."

"Why do you say that?"

"They're putting up with you passing off this argument as Episode #24, aren't they?"

"Oh, go away." Raina opens her book again.

"You'll have to write it eventually, you know."

"Will you stop saying 'you know'?!"

"But you're supposed to know everything, Creator."

Another lightning bolt zigzags down from the sky. Shani laughs and disappears.

Raina sighs. And starts writing.

***

Episode 25: Last Train to Shara

Dear Raina,

What in Shayol Ghul do you think you're doing? You and your readers seem to adore getting me into implausible situations, but this is going too far. I liked Tuon. I liked being a big shot with the Seanchan. Now you wrecked that and I'm stuck in the waiting room with Jordan's characters while you loll around writing what you refer to as serious stories. Do you know how dull it is listening to Taim and Demandred bicker over whether they're the same person or not? If I stay here a moment later I'll go positively - well - insane! Everyone's trying to guess who killed Asmodean, a huge argument just started up over whether Rand really cleansed the taint or not, and the Taimandred thing NEVER stops. You have to get me out of this place!

Sycho

Dear Sycho,

Oddly enough, it doesn't sound much different from here. But since you're so insistent, I'll send Shadar and Shani over to pick you up. They've been complaining about the tedium as well, so I'm sure you'll all be glad to see each other.

Raina

Dear Raina,

Please, please, please, not Shadar and Shani. Especially not Shadar and Shani looking for entertainment. I was thinking of some nice little place where I could get some peace and quiet, but I take it all back. I don't mind staying here at all. It's quite homey once you get used to it, and the arguments are actually quite interesting. I really don't want to see those two.

Sycho

Dear Sycho,

Too bad.

Raina

"All right, Sycho," comes a laughing voice, "time to go."

Sycho winces, and with extreme reluctance turns around to face the pair standing behind him. "Uh, hi, Shani. Hi, Shadar. You know, I've kind of been thinking maybe I could stay here for a while. There's some new Taimandred stuff someone turned up - "

"Give it up, Sycho." Shadar grins. "The debates can go on by themselves. We had something a little more interesting in mind."

"That's what I wanted to avoid," Sycho sighs, but follows them resignedly. "Where are we going?"

Shani shrugs. "Wherever we go."

"That's not very helpful, you know - "

He is interrupted by a loud announcement that seems to come from every direction at once. "Last call for the WoT Express! Train to Shara departing in ten seconds. This is your last chance to board. Repeat - ten seconds to departure - "

"Shara, hmm?" Shani cocks an eyebrow.

"Nine!"

Shadar grins at Shani.

"Eight!"

Shani grins at Shadar.

"Seven!"

"Now, wait a minute - " Sycho begins.

"Six!"

"We don't have a minute," Shadar points out.

"Five!"

"Wait a second, then - "

"Four!"

"Waited."

"Three!"

Shani grabs Sycho's left hand.

"Two!"

Shadar grabs Sycho's right hand.

"One!"

Sycho is hauled through the waiting room in a flurry of motion.

"Zero!" -

And they're aboard.

Sundara, the Insane

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