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April 2008
Topic Started: Nov 5 2009, 10:37 PM (3,974 Views)
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Lancelot
Date: Sun Apr 13, 2008 11:37 am
Lancelot


The knight cocked an eyebrow as Neeve gazed back at him
levely.

Neeve
 
“I have saved your soul from being sent to the Gods
several times, Lancelot…I will do the same with his…And
the way I see it, I will have to do what I can for you
as well, knight...sit down somewhere and get that
cleaned…perhaps the lady can assist you…Unless of course
you prefer to be sent to the infirmary…”


"I'm not going anywhere," Lancelot answered, steel in his
tone. "And I do not need to be babied, thank you very much,
madam healer. I will wait until this is finished." He gestured
at Arthur, and watched with a hawk-like stare as Neeve moved
to the commander.

Darya
 
“Are you sure you don’t need someone to assist you…? I’m
as much a medicus as he is…”


Lancelot barked a laugh, but moved out of the way of Neeve and
Arthur so the Briton could get to the Roman and fix what
needed to be done. He relaxed slightly, and had to suck in a
breath when he noticed the pain in his arm again. He took the
mug Darya offered, drinking the water down, but did not sit.
"I will care for myself, lady. I thank you just the same." He
wasn't being cruel - he just didn't need someone who knew as
little as he did about medicine trying to care for him.
Besides...Darya was Arthur's. She should be with him, not
fussing over Lancelot.

He needs her. I need only for him to be well.

Arthur
 
“I suspect the blade may have been coated with a poison.
I should not feel this weak….I have been cut numerous
times before and not been affected so acutely and so
quickly. Neeve, I have urgent business….do what you can
as quickly as you can…and then please see to Lancelot."


Lancelot pulled his bloody and damaged tunic over his head,
holding it over his shoulder. He poured some of the wine out
over his arm, straight onto the wound, and yelped outloud. He
couldn't help it. "Fuck," came out of his lips quickly, and he
wiped the excess dried and crusty red stuff off of the hole
where the arrow had pierced. It didn't look bad; it just hurt
like bloody hell.

He looked at Arthur as he lowered his arms. "You are not going
anywhere, commander. Look at the state of your side - Neeve -
tell him." He stepped around to the other side of the bed, and
inbetween them. "There was no poison, Arthur. Your fever would
have been much worse, and you made it almost 24 hours without
succumbing to delirium." He wiped his face with the sleeve of
his tunic, ignoring the bit of fresh blood that was oozing
from his wound. It was slowly beginning to tighten up,
although he figured he'd have a nice new scar to show off when
it was done.

He looked at the Briton healer. "No poison - I'm sure of it."
He wasn't really, but...he had seen wounds caused by tainted
weapons before, and Arthur had been in much better shape than
those unfortunate wretches had been.

"You are going to have to admit it, Arthur - you're just hurt.
Despite your best efforts, man, you are not a god, and you
must accept the consequences."

Lancelot squared off his bare shoulders and caught Darya's
glance. "I'm sure your lady will agree with me when I say
you're not leaving this room."

It wasn't nice of him to involve Darya in this, he knew. But
at this point, Lancelot didn't care. Arthur was going to stay
and rest, and he would inlist the help of every man, woman,
and child in this fortress if he had to. Lancelot was good at
blackmail.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: LadyCastus
Date: Sun Apr 13, 2008 5:07 pm
Malcus Barbattus


Malcus, Titrus and Brendyn entered the tavern and found a seat
toward the back. Malcus removed his massive cloak and shook
the clinging snowflakes to the floor. Damned accursed snow.
The tall Roman swung one of his long legs over the wide seat
and sat down, sighing heavily. What a day! Even though the
Commander hadn't suffered any injuries during Merlin's
pathetic assault, his muscles ached and he longed for a hot
meal as his empty stomach rudely assaulted him, reminding him
that he'd not eaten that day. Barbattus motioned for the other
two men to sit down, then threw his hand up to catch the
attention of a passing wench. Malcus' trained eye swept the
tavern, looking for Catherine, hoping to find her, buy her a
drink and then fuck her...in that exact order. Much to his
disappointment however, she was nowhere to be seen. Probably
with someone else, Malcus thought to himself. Not to be turned
off by such a minor inconvenience, the Commander began
scanning the crowd for another when Brendyn spoke, breaking
his thoughts.

Brendyn
 
"Sir, you wanted to see me in order for me to receive
further instructions after seeing the medicus."


"Soldier, eat, drink and go to bed. You look like sheite,"
Barbattus replied flatly. By then, a serving wench arrived to
take their order. Because Barbattus was the superior officer
at the table, the wench addressed him.

"Bring some bread and three portions of whatever's hot and
salty with big pieces of meat in it. And keep the spicy mead
coming until I either say 'stop' or until I can't talk
anymore," Malcus said. He gave the girl a couple of coins for
her effort and winked at her. The girl giggled and waddled off
to get his drinks. Hmmmf, she'll do. he thought to himself
while watching her walk away.

Turning back to the other men, Barbattus said, "Brendyn, if
you wish to succeed under my command there are 4 things you'll
need to remember. One - report for all duties on time without
complaint. Two - Perform above and beyond any assigned duties.
I don't take kindly to mediocrity. Three - Keep your ears open
and shut the fuck up unless I ask you to talk. I don't care
about what you think, how you feel or what you observe unless
I choose to care. Four - Rest when you're not on duty. I don't
care if that's sleeping, poking a bar wench or doing fucking
needlepoint. Whatever it is you do to rest...that's what you
do when you're off. My soldiers need rest or else they're no
good to me."

Just then, the wench arrived with the men's drinks and smiled
prettily at Barbattus who winked in return. When she left,
Malcus tilted his tankard high and licked his lips.

"Did I forget anything, Titrus?" Titrus smiled wickedly at
Brendyn and said, "No, sir!"
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Sun Apr 13, 2008 8:28 pm
Brendyn and Vanora


Vanora watched from one side of the counter as the three
Romans entered the tavern. She was cleaning the last of the
dirty mugs and tankards and was ready to get to Bors so they
could share a good night together. The one Roman didn't look
so well, and for that matter, she did not recognize the young
man...only Malcus and Titrus. Thank the gods Bors was not
here. She watched as Malcus motioned for a wench to serve them
as he cast his cloak aside and sat down.

Not far from the counter maybe a five tables off, Brendyn
looked around the establishment with hunger in his eyes. He
wanted to take his cloak off as well except for the fact that
he felt warmer with it on. He now sat across from Titrus and
Malcus, looking less like a soldier and more like a soggy
cat...

Malcus
 
"Soldier, eat, drink and go to bed. You look like
sheite,"


Brendyn looked stunned at the man, and then nodded in
agreement...he did look like hell. Malcus was not like
Antonius as the ex Commander would have told him his duties
and left it at that. About the time he was going to answer, a
lovely well built wench came to take their order. The young
man could not help but be aroused by the woman, but he
controlled himself as he considered himself still on duty
until dismissed. The wench looked slightly at Brendyn who
offered her his most charming smile, then turned her attention
back to Malcus who placed the order. Brendyn used discretion
when Malcus tossed the woman some coins and she giggled...

Malcus
 
"Bring some bread and three portions of whatever's hot
and salty with big pieces of meat in it. And keep the
spicy mead coming until I either say 'stop' or until I
can't talk anymore,"


Having taken the order, the wench walked off past Vanora who
was still serving out ales and meade to the customers looking
to keep warm. Malcus turned back to Brendyn who was almost
asleep, but he was alert to the man when he addressed him
again...

Malcus
 
"Brendyn, if you wish to succeed under my command there
are 4 things you'll need to remember. One - report for
all duties on time without complaint. Two - Perform
above and beyond any assigned duties. I don't take
kindly to mediocrity. Three - Keep your ears open and
shut the fuck up unless I ask you to talk. I don't care
about what you think, how you feel or what you observe
unless I choose to care. Four - Rest when you're not on
duty. I don't care if that's sleeping, poking a bar
wench or doing fucking needlepoint. Whatever it is you
do to rest...that's what you do when you're off. My
soldiers need rest or else they're no good to me."


Brendyn nodded again as the man had not asked him to talk, but
was giving what he expected from him. When the wench returned
with the drinks, Brendyn took his and took a sip of it. Not
bad spiced wine...he took a good taste of it and left the
warmth of the meade course through his system. Brendyn set the
mug down and looked at the men in front of him, "Sirs, I will
give my all to serve under your command." Brendyn looked at
the two men wondering what thoughts they shared between them
as Titrus smiled to the other. Why would he want to devulge
what he thought to a man he had never met, or for that matter,
any of them? His opinions were his own, and he kept them to
himself. Brendyn finished the mug and set it down as his hand
shook from cold...

Malcus and Titrus
 
"Did I forget anything, Titrus?”

"No, sir!"


Brendyn looked down at his mug of spiced wine, then looked at
the two men then stood having recieved notice of what was
expected of him, "If there is nothing else, Commander, I would
like to go to evening prayer...for those in my legion that
were lost...including Commander Antonius..." He needed sleep,
but the night was still young and evening prayer was not that
long. Brendyn waited at attention until Malcus dismissed him.
Malcus was a lot like Antonius in alot of respects,a nd he
made it a vow to himself to do everything he had been trained
to do above and beyond the call of duty. Vanora, in the
meantime, had placed her shawl on, and was about to leave the
tavern, when she decided to go first and greet the young man.
No better time then the present to meet new comers... Saying
good night to the wenches on duty, Vanora approached the table
where Malcus, Titrus and the newcomer were.

"Malcus. Titrus," Vanora nodded to the two men, then looked at
the standing officer. "And who might you be? A new comer to
the fort?"

Brendyn looked down at the red head, "I am called Brendyn. I
transfered from Aesica..."
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Kay
Date: Mon Apr 14, 2008 2:12 am
Guinevere


Guinevere walked slowly back to the camp with her father,
having watched Ash enter the fort. There was nothing more to
be done now, except wait, either for a signal that Ash needed
help, or for him to return with the two Woad females.

Merlin
 
"You must stay well-hidden, daughter, but Ash may well
depend on your knowledge of the fort. You probably know
many of the hidden crannies."


Guinevere nodded thoughtfully.

"The fortress is a warren of passageways and buildings; it
takes some time to become familair with the complex. My only
hope is that Ash will be able to move around freely. Time is
not on our side, Father; Neeria was badly wounded"

Up ahead, the pair spotted Connell, the healer, waiting
patiently.

Snow was dusting the ground, stained pink by the blood of the
injured. A vision of her dear friend lying wounded in the
fortress flashed through the dark Woad's mind.

Hold firm, Neeria, she pleaded silently. Help is coming.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Unicorn
Date: Mon Apr 14, 2008 2:55 am
Mirtha


Mirtha was surprised at the sharp glance Tristan gave him as
he pointed to the horse, but did not let it show. He just
stared with rised eyebrow at the scout. This was one of the
knights horse, but Mirtha did not know which one had not
returned.

Tristan
 
"Hmm...Tirgatao, is it? I'll take him,"


Mirtha was watching Tristan examining the horse... he looked
like profesional doing so and the stable master looked around
for a second leaning against a stall wall with his hand.
Everything seemed in order. Stable hands were walking quiet
good he could say. As Tristan spoke up, Mirtha looked back at
him and nodded his head.

"Fine..." he said and patted the horse on the side.

Ione
 
"I will be near if you need me for anything, Mirtha. I
am going to help finish getting the horses settled
in...there are only a few left,"


Mirtha looked at Ione and smiled nodding his head... he turned
around and took a rope laying on the floor... what idiot had
left it here? He started to coil it...

Tristan
 
"She working for you now?"


He lifted his head with surprise and not understanding the
question before Tristan pointed over his shoulder at Ione's
back. He breathed a short laugh and shook his head.

"Ione? No... She needed some occupation. That's all"

In truth he had one of sheepish smile on his face as he looked
in Ione's direction... She was a fine looking woman and he in
truth liked her and was happy to see her around. Even as she
disappeared in one of the stalls he still had his eyes upon
that place.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Mon Apr 14, 2008 8:45 am
Merlin


Guinevere
 
"The fortress is a warren of passageways and buildings;
it takes some time to become familair with the complex.
My only hope is that Ash will be able to move around
freely. Time is not on our side, Father; Neeria was
badly wounded."


"So I'm told...so I'm told." Merlin murmurred the words
grimly, looking straight ahead, the memory of Mona delivering
her message dancing before his eyes. Covered with blood, Mona
had said...she had described how Neeria had fainted...a
wounded warrior might well die in the Roman dungeons, just
from the cold and the lack of air and light! And Eala- Eala
was just a child, albeit a warrior already. Could either of
them endure, in those Roman pits that had already claimed so
many?

"Hopefully he will be able to summon you soon, to assist him,"
Merlin continued, concluding that sentiment on a restless sigh
as they drew even with Connell. The whole rescue operation was
a desperate attempt indeed, and with the Lady Lourdes to
contend with, it had possibly become even more so. Ash,
Guinevere, and Connell all had a great deal riding on their
efforts.

"Well, he's safely in," Merlin stopped in front of the healer
and updated him on the situation. "He'll lie low for tonight,
but starting tomorrow you two have to be ready for him to let
you into the fort at any time. Get as much rest as you can
tonight," he added by way of advice. Their time in the fort,
he thought, could be very tense indeed- but he almost wished
he was going himself. In his younger days, this would have
been an assignment he would have relished- stealing prisoners
out from under the very noses of the Romans! And the waiting
would be difficult- very difficult, not knowing what was going
on behind those massive walls. But Merlin had to lead the
people back to the village- that was his duty now.










Tristan

Mirtha
 
"Ione? No...she needed some occupation. That's all."


Occupation, huh? Tristan arched an eyebrow, not missing the
slightly sheepish, abashed expression on Mirtha's face, the
way he followed with his gaze the direction the barmaid had
taken. The two of them, then? Not a pairing Tristan would have
predicted- but then, Ione was good-looking in her way, if far
too talkative for Tristan's taste. And she seemed lusty- she
was flirting around a new man every week, practically. Hmmmph.
Tristan grunted acknowledgement of Mirtha's words, reminded
that he himself had considered getting a woman for the night.
It still seemed a good idea- but he should tend to Tirgatao a
little first, if he was to be his new mount. It was time they
started getting used to each other.

"Thanks," Tristan remarked to Mirtha, the words both grateful
and dismissive as he reached over and picked up a brush from
the nearby supply shelf. The stallion's saddle and bags had of
course already been removed, all trace of Gedeon's ownership
gone, and food and water had been provided, but a little
grooming never went amiss. Grooming today, and he would take
him out and ride him tomorrow. By now, with the sun sinking
and the interior of the stables growing dim, Tristan felt safe
in assuming that they would not be riding out after Woads or
whatever Arthur planned to do today- and so much the better.

A while later, having brushed Tirgatao all over and found him
a treat of a couple of carrots, Tristan was ready to leave the
stables and make his way over to the tavern and that woman he
had promised himself- perhaps the blonde one from the
courtyard, if she was available- she had been an appealing
wench. In a content and anticipatory mood, Tristan began to
make his way up the main aisle of the bit stable, all the
horses settling down to sleep around him- but as he passed a
row of saddle blankets, hung up over a makeshift line to air
out, he paused. Blankets...the Woad prisoner. The desperate
way she had cried out to him, begging him not to leave her.
She had asked him to bring her a blanket.

He owed her nothing. She ought to be dead right now, if Arthur
had had any sense. But he didn't- he wanted her kept alive,
and if he had not ridden out as he had planned, she must still
be in the dungeons. And perhaps no one else had brought her a
blanket. Had a healer even been to see her? The infirmary must
be swamped- surely a mere prisoner would be rather low on the
priority list.

"Damn it," Tristan muttered to himself, grumpily yanking the
nearest saddle blanket down. He didn't want to be accused of
having compassion for the woman- that was no virtue, in his
book- but the thought of her still in that cell, alone and
without the things she needed, rankled as he remembered her
wild eyes, her desperate reaching out to him. Damn it.

Arthur wanted her alive. That was why he was doing this,
Tristan told himself. He had been placed in charge of getting
her to the dungeons, and if she was found dead in the morning,
it might reflect badly on him, on his doing of his duty. That
was the reason, the only reason, why Tristan was now trudging
not to the welcoming lights of the tavern, but to the gloomy
entrance to the dungeons, a horse blanket crumpled up under
his arm, as if it would be possible to hide it that way.

"I need to see that Woad," he muttered grumpily to the guard,
who once more took him to the door of Neeria's cell and
unlocked the door. The expression on his face was curious, but
seeing the black look on Tristan's face, he asked no
questions- the scout was a forbidding one to talk to, as he
had already known, and besides, it was not that unusual around
the fort for the knights to do the personal bidding of
Commander Castus. For all the guard knew, Tristan was doing
this at the behest of Arthur himself.

In the doorway of the cell, Tristan blinked a couple of times,
while his eyes got used to the darkness. Finally, he spotted
the Woad, curled up in a ball on the straw, where he had been
expecting to see her. He took a step forward, shook out the
blanke and dropped it on her where she lay, then took a step
back, hesitating for just a second to see if she had noticed.
She wasn't dead already, was she?
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: LadyCastus
Date: Mon Apr 14, 2008 9:33 am
Neeria


Neeria lay crouched in a corner of her cell, on a soggy,
smelly clump of straw. It was dark, cold and stinky. She was
terrified and couldn't see a thing in the small hell that
enclosed her. Her tears had stopped, she had none left, and
her shivering became so natural that it was almost like
breathing to her. Arthur Castus should have killed me, she
thought to herself, imaging that death couldn't be worse than
this. At least in death, she would be with Mikel again. Mikel.
In Neeria's tired and weary mind, thoughts of him were all
that were keeping her alive. Her stomach banged viciously
against her rib cage demanding to be fed and her throat ached
of thirst.

The healer the guard sent for never came and neither had food,
water or a blanket. Neeria's wound had begun to itch. It
desperately needed to be cleaned. She'd smelled her fingers
again could not detect infection in the wound, but it still
needed tending to.

Neeria's mind flashed to the scout. He was wild and
feral-looking, dirty and menacing. But there something to him,
the woad thought. For certain, it wasn't kindness or
compassion. Neeria felt it was more like familiarity. Comfort?
Normality? She'd startled him on the road and there was a
brief moment - a millisecond - when their eyes locked. That
moment of hesitation when the earth stood still and she had
not killed him. Was that on purpose? Had she spared the scout?
Neeria pushed the thoughts from her head, surely she was going
mad in this prison hell. The woad pursed her blue lips
together - blue from cold and not from war paint - and blew on
her freezing hands.

Suddenly, the warrior heard voices on the other side of the
door. Then a key slid into the lock on the cell door.
Terrified, Neeria pulled her knees up tighter to her chest and
lay in a fetal position, shaking uncontrollably. A tall dark
figure graced the doorway and made it's way over to her.
Neeria squeezed her eyes shut until she felt the scratchiness
and immediate heaviness and warmth of a .... blanket! The woad
sat up quickly blinking her eyes, struggling to see in the
dark. She focused on the dark ominous shape in front of her -
tall and straight!

"SCOUT! You came back!" she shrieked in recognition. The
frantic woman grabbed the blanket around her, burying her face
in it. Unable to stand, she slid her small body across the
nasty, cold floor and grabbed Tristan's knee, sobbing against
him. "Thank you, Scout. Thank you," she cried, desperately
clinging to him.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Darya
Date: Mon Apr 14, 2008 10:00 am
Neeve & Darya


Lancelot
 
"I'm not going anywhere. And I do not need to be babied,
thank you very much, madam healer. I will wait until
this is finished."


Ah yes, exactly the reaction she had expected from the
stubborn curly-haired knight…and exactly the reaction she was
used to get from him whenever he was injured or ill. It had
taken a poisoned Woad arrow to knock him out completely and to
have him on the edge of death. That was years ago, but she
remembered it well. Yet Neeve could not help but breathe a
quiet laugh at Lancelot’s obstinate reply to her words as she
knew better than to give in so easily. “Be assured, Lancelot,
that someone will see to your injury as well…and if I have to
do it myself…”, the Briton commented coolly, “…and the 'when'
shall be a question of how you keep up…” …and behave, she
added in thought and gave the knight a look that left hardly
any room for discussions.

Lancelot
 
"I will care for myself, lady. I thank you just the
same."


Darya found herself mildly amused by the snarky exchange
between Lancelot and the healer, wondering who of the two
might be more stubborn. However, when the First Knight
addressed her regarding Neeve’s idea of her tending to him,
the dark Sarmatian just rolled her eyes and refilled the mug
with water in case Arthur or Lancelot would want some more of
it. “Of course you will…”, she then murmured and pulled a
chair as close to the bed as possible to sit by Arthur’s side
and to give the Roman whatever he would ask of her…

Arthur
 
“Perhaps this is all an elaborate ruse that I had
constructed in order to gain your attention,”


Neeve furrowed her brow at Arthur’s reply while briefly
watching Lancelot and the dark-haired woman positioning
themselves near the Commander’s bed. Neither of them
apparently had the intention to just leave and let her do her
work. Gotta love audience, the raven-haired thought
sarcastically, yet would perhaps give them the benefit of the
doubt…after all, they might be able to distract Arthur while
she would take care of the bloody mess that once was his
abdomen…

“Well, in that case I am sorry to inform you that I am not
impressed, Commander…”, the Briton then replied to the Roman
and met his weary green gaze with her blue one again, “…as
this would be a truly foolish ruse.” She paused for a moment
before giving Arthur one of her rare yet honest smiles. “Just
invite me for dinner or a drink next time”, Neeve then added
quietly, “…less pain and work for both of us…”

Arthur
 
“I will be fine, A…Darya,”


Darya? Now was that not the woman she had talked about to
Derfel the other day? The healer frowned briefly but then
picked up a clean cloth and a small bowl with an oily fluid
made of scouring rush, which should stop the wound from
bleeding and would also be a first step to counteract a
possible infection… Carefully, yet firmly the woman began to
work on the Commander’s body…preparing it for what was
unavoidable…

Arthur
 
“I suspect the blade may have been coated with a poison.
I should not feel this weak….I have been cut numerous
times before and not been affected so acutely and so
quickly. Neeve, I have urgent business….do what you can
as quickly as you can…and then please see to Lancelot,”


The raven-haired glanced up at Arthur and parted her lips to
say something…but Lancelot was faster…

Lancelot
 
"You are not going anywhere, commander. Look at the
state of your side - Neeve - tell him. There was no
poison, Arthur. Your fever would have been much worse,
and you made it almost 24 hours without succumbing to
delirium. No poison - I'm sure of it. You are going to
have to admit it, Arthur - you're just hurt. Despite
your best efforts, man, you are not a god, and you must
accept the consequences. I'm sure your lady will agree
with me when I say you're not leaving this room."


Alright, that was a lot of information. Both – Neeve and Darya
– blinked at the Arthur’s as well as at Lancelot’s words and
then looked at each other for a moment. Then Darya reached for
her lover’s hand and took it into both of hers. “Lancelot is
right, Arthur…”, the female Sarmatian said quietly, for once
instantly agreeing with the First Knight, “…you need to
recover fully…you know that. All else would just be an
unnecessary risk…” Her dark eyes once more lingered intently
on the Roman. She knew how stubborn Arthur could be…but hoped
that he would give in to Lancelot’s and her words…

Neeve did not like the mentioning of the word 'poison' and her
eyebrows shot up as she looked at Lancelot as the knight
spoke. Arthur was feverish…but poison would have caused a
certain staining to the stab wound…and now as the injury was
not bleeding that much anymore, she was inclined to agree with
the First Knight. Narrowing her blue eyes, she scrutinized the
wound once more…and then tilted her head. “I don’t think that
poison is involved here, Arthur…”, the Briton finally said and
applied some more scouring rush to the sore flesh, “…blood
loss and perhaps a beginning infection are the reasons for you
feeling so weak. And you have a fever, too, Commander…”

With that, the healer held the bowl and the cloth up for
Lancelot to take it. Now as the Sarmatian had his tunic taken
off, his own injury was ever so obvious, and she would not let
him get away with no treatment so easily. “Do me a favour and
apply this to your wound, too… Since you don’t want anyone to
help you, you might as well do it yourself…”, she stated, and
it was no real plea… Then Neeve picked up the needle she had
brought and rolled the thread between her fingers before
threading the needle. “And to make one thing clear, Arthur…you
will certainly not go anywhere anytime soon. You would have to
get past me…and trust me, right now this would be a mission
impossible for you…”, the healer then addressed the Commander
once more and gave him a warning glance, “…I know that you are
not happy to hear this…but your First Knight and your lady are
right… And now you may want to look somewhere else…” Then
Neeve began to stitch…
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golden_trillium

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Author: golden_trillium
Date: Mon Apr 14, 2008 10:00 am
Tristan


Neeria
 
"SCOUT! You came back! Thank you, Scout. Thank you."


Tristan grimaced painfully as she threw herself at him,
clutching at his knees, shrieking, and practically weeping in
her inexplicable joy at seeing him again. He felt hopelessly
embarrassed by this performance, and rolled his eyes towards
the doorway, where the guard, still keeping an eye on things,
had what appeared in the gloom to be an amused expression on
his face- in fact, muffled chortling sounds indicated he was
trying to supress laughter. Tristan scowled blackly at him- if
he could have killed him with a look, he would have- and then
bent down and started to trying to prise her fingers off of
his legs.

"Tristan," he muttered as he did so- having her call him
"scout" at the top of her lungs somehow added even more to the
embarrassment of it all. Going relatively gently- that is,
gently enough that breaking fingers was no possibility, though
pain might have been- he managed to peel one bony hand out of
the cloth of his trousers, but as soon as he started on the
other one, the first was replaced, clinging with the strength
and desperation of the dying.

"For fuck's sake, will you let go?" he muttered to the
creature before him, still sobbing and clinging in a heap at
his feet.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Kay
Date: Mon Apr 14, 2008 10:43 am
Guinevere


Merlin
 
"He'll lie low for tonight, but starting tomorrow you
two have to be ready for him to let you into the fort at
any time. Get as much rest as you can tonight,"


"Yes, Father" Guinevere replied, and nodding to Connell, she
turned to go. She suddenly realised just how tired she was.
The dark Woad turned back to gaze at her father; the
expression on his face was wistful and, knowing her father as
she did, Guinevere realised just how much he would have liked
to take part in the rescue himself.

She strode back to Merlin and hugged her father tight.
"Sleep well, Father" she said and kissed his whiskered cheek;
then without another word, she walked away to try and rest,
although the thudding of her heart told her she would find
this difficult, even though her very bones were weary.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: LadyCastus
Date: Mon Apr 14, 2008 11:05 am
Mona


Mona watched Merlin, Guinevere and Connell from her place
among the shadows. She knew they were plotting a rescue
attempt for little Eala and also Neeria. Mona had been
undecided what to do. She thought about her friend, Neeria.
The two warrioresses had grown up together but Neeria was
Merlin's favorite - almost like another daughter to him. And
she was Guinevere's beloved also - they were like sisters.
Neither Merlin nor Guinevere seemed to ever notice Mona, not
even as a child developing into a strong female fighter.
Although Mona had grown up used to being placed behind Neeria,
it didn't squelch the jealous pangs she felt from time to
time. Oh! Mona considered Neeria a dear friend, there's no
doubt about that and Mona would fiercely follow her into
battle. But with Neeria out of the way...

Mona had heard about the Roman dungeons before and she'd seen
Neeria's condition. The warrior was probably dead already
anyway, as she'd lost a lot of blood. Having made her
decision, Mona came from darkness and walked up to Merlin.

"Merlin, before the others depart on their mission, there is
something I must tell you about Neeria."
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golden_trillium

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Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Mon Apr 14, 2008 12:31 pm
Derfel


Derfel felt Linnette’s shoulder tense beneath his touch, but
he did not pull his hand away or regret the gesture. He would
give all the support she’d allow….considering all that had
happened, Derfel had made up his mind to forget all their past
squabbles and simply accept and care for Linnette in any way
that he could. Gedeon had loved her, Dagonet obviously loved
her and of course she was Linnesse’s sister….therefore, Derfel
should love her….even if she continued to hate him.

Linnesse stirred and attempted to sit up to which Linnette
immediately moved to help her. Derfel’s hand dropped to his
side as Linnette did so and then stood.

Linnette
 
"Stay here? There's no room. And besides, you want to
be...alone."


Derfel, not knowing what to say to persuade her otherwise,
reached up to somewhat nervously scratch at the back of his
neck and glance over to Linnesse for guidance.

Linnesse
 
"Linnette, no, we're not..."


Linnette
 
"You do. I’ll come by first thing in the morning. Good
night, sister.”


Derfel felt awkward for sure. But he wanted to look after
Linnette and see to it that she was safe…..and the only way he
figured he could do that was to have her remain with he and
Linnesse, at least for tonight. He couldn’t reckon Linnette
being alone was any good for her now. She was pregnant and
thus fragile in Derfel’s eyes.

Linnette
 
“She’s really doing much better, Derfel- she just needs
to regain her strength. Good night,”


“Linnette…..I….” Derfel took a step after Linnette as she
headed for the door obviously intent on leaving. “…I’m no
doubt the last person you’d want help from. But, I want to
look after you….you and your sister are all I got now, aye?”
Derfel somewhat fumbled as he closed the distance between
them. But seeing the sheer determination in Linnette’s sad
eyes, Derfel did the only thing he thought he could right
now….and reached around Linnette to open the door for her. He
would confer with Linnesse once her sister had gone and go
after Linnette if need be.

“If you can’t sleep in your room….come back here…I’ll see you
settled, alright?” Derfel added with a small nod and silent
prayer to the gods that Linnette would actually listen.









Arthur

Neeve
 
“Well, in that case I am sorry to inform you that I am
not impressed, Commander…as this would be a truly
foolish ruse. Just invite me for dinner or a drink next
time…less pain and work for both of us…”


“I shall keep that in mind next time, my lady,” Arthur
answered with equal candor although he kept his voice low.
Neeve had not changed in the many years she had been away in
his opinion. And Arthur was thankful for it. He then heard
Lancelot curse and looked up to see the knight had removed his
tunic; giving Arthur a better view of Lancelot’s bloody arm.
The Roman frowned; deep lines forming across his brow in
concern for the other man. Arthur opened his mouth to further
insist that Neeve see to Lancelot when the knight began his
own tirade on Arthur’s condition.

Lancelot
 
"You are not going anywhere, commander. Look at the
state of your side - Neeve - tell him. There was no
poison, Arthur. Your fever would have been much worse,
and you made it almost 24 hours without succumbing to
delirium."


Arthur narrowed his intensely green eyes at Lancelot; jaw
tightening and that steely mask that he wore as a Roman
Commander sliding into place again. It was possible Lancelot
had guessed correctly about the poison, but his lieutenant was
no medicus and no expert on such matters. Yet one thing was
for certain, Arthur was going after Merlin just as soon as
Neeve was finished stitching up his wound…and Lancelot would
accept the Commander’s decision to do so.

Lancelot
 
"No poison - I'm sure of it. You are going to have to
admit it, Arthur - you're just hurt. Despite your best
efforts, man, you are not a god, and you must accept the
consequences. I'm sure your lady will agree with me when
I say you're not leaving this room."


“Lancelot,” Arthur spoke the knight’s name in a tone strongly
suggesting that the other man hold his tongue. But as Darya
came to Arthur’s side, he refrained from making a biting
remark….for now.

Darya
 
“Lancelot is right, Arthur…you need to recover fully…you
know that. All else would just be an unnecessary risk…”


Arthur had accepted Darya’s hand in his and gently returned
her caring gesture by squeezing her slender fingers in his. He
sighed and briefly closed his eyes before turning to look at
her; expression softening as their eyes met. Darya loved
Arthur; he understood that she was frightened by his current
physical condition. But he had a duty to fulfill…Arthur was
responsible for the safety and well-being of all the
inhabitants of the fortress. And with God’s help, he would
guarantee their safety before resting again.

Neeve
 
“I don’t think that poison is involved here,
Arthur…blood loss and perhaps a beginning infection are
the reasons for you feeling so weak. And you have a
fever, too, Commander…”


“That is good news, I suppose,” Arthur’s brows slightly lifted
in relief as poison could have very well meant his death if it
could not be countered quickly enough. So after a few stitches
and a re-dressing, he could carry on with his duties. Arthur
lifted his free hand to rake through the dark curls of his
hair as Neeve spoke to Lancelot; insisting the stubborn knight
clean up his own wound.

“Do as she has instructed, Lancelot. Or I will do it myself in
a moment…and none too gently, my friend,” Arthur added with a
stern look at Lancelot. The knight’s injury would be taken
care of one way or another. Stubborn bastard. Arthur thought
to himself; completely oblivious to the fact that his own
actions mirrored those of Lancelot’s.

Neeve
 
“And to make one thing clear, Arthur…you will certainly
not go anywhere anytime soon. You would have to get past
me…and trust me, right now this would be a mission
impossible for you…I know that you are not happy to hear
this…but your First Knight and your lady are right… And
now you may want to look somewhere else…”


“All three of you conspire against me,” Arthur answered with a
grunt albeit followed by an obviously defeated sigh. He then
hissed while sucking in a breath at feeling Neeve’s needle
pierce the sore flesh around his wound. But Arthur did not
bother to look away. He had no qualms about watching the
healer perform her task on his body. This was not the first
time Arthur had felt the sting of a needle.

“I see that you have not lost your gentle touch,” Arthur
quipped with a grimace as Neeve continued to sew up the wound
in his side. He attempted to show only strength, but the
Roman’s head was light and his eyes burned with fever. He
silently prayed for God to give him the strength he’d need to
do his duty. Then Arthur would rest.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Mon Apr 14, 2008 1:29 pm
Linnette and Linnesse


Derfel
 
“Linnette…I…I’m no doubt the last person you’d want help
from. But I want to look after you…you and your sister
are all I got now, aye? If you can’t sleep in your
room…come back here…I’ll see you settled, alright?”


"I understand." Linnette gave Derfel a sad nod that shaded
into another small attempt at a smile. She didn't want to have
to come back here in the middle of the night- she wasn't sure
she would even if she wanted to. But despite the awkwardness
between them, she was glad that it was offered. Linnesse's
presence might be a comfort, certainly.

"I'm not going to throw myself from the ramparts, Derfel,
really." That pitiful attempt at a joke ended badly, as
another catch of breath that pushed her nearer to tears again.
Poor choice of words. Though her words were true- she had no
intention of doing that now- throw herself from the ramparts
had been exactly what Linnette had tried to do that long ago
day when Arthur's messenger had brought the news that Linnesse
was dead. Linnette, despairing because she felt she had failed
her sister, had very nearly done that very thing- and it had
been Gedeon who had stopped her. Another sob welled up in
Linnette's throat as she remembered the way he had launched
himself at her with no thought for his own safety, flinging
them both sideways and somehow twisting himself so that he
took the brunt of the fall onto the stones of the wall top,
she landing half on top of him- that had been how they had
met. And then he had died in a fall off very similar ramparts
far away. Quite a tale.

"I'm just going to pray," she concluded, those words a near
whisper as tears threatened very close behind her eyes. She
made a small gesture over at Linnesse, like a wave of
leave-taking, rather truncated. Her sister made another rather
weak attempt at sitting all the way up and reaching out for
her, but Linnette merely shook her head, laid her hand on the
door handle, and went out into the corridor, her head slightly
bowed, again, in a futile attempt to hide her tears.

Inside the room, Linnesse sank back onto pillows Linnette had
placed for her, tiredly, but with a half-sad, half-exasperated
sigh.

"If only I wasn't as weak as a kitten," she muttered
bad-temperedly, her eyes sliding closed of their own accord
again. She felt suddenly the frustration of her confinement
with illness; before she had only felt the determination of
trying to get through it, and pride and relief when she had
realized she was recovering. Now, for the first time, she
found herself angry at the weakness of her body, that
prevented her from really being there for her sister the way
she should, and while that might have been a good sign that
her recovery was proceeding, it was nothing more than a source
of exasperation right now. But there was nothing to be done
about it- she would recover only with rest, and to push
herself too hard would only be to backslide.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: LadyCastus
Date: Mon Apr 14, 2008 3:39 pm
Malcus Barbattus


Malcus threw back the tankard, drained it, then slammed it to
the table. "Another one!" he yelled at the wench, waving. The
young woman scurried to the barrel to get his refill. The
hungry commander scooped a big spoonful of the salty lamb stew
into his mouth and groaned with pleasure as he chewed and felt
the food slide down his throat and hit his rioting stomach.
"Mmmmm..." he moaned, licking his lips and feeling relief at
last. Just then, as Brendyn stood to leave, Vanora approached
the table, apparently finished for the evening.

Vanora
 
"Malcus. Titrus,"


"Hello, my little fiery, red-headed beauty," Malcus chuckled.
The commander was very fond of Vanora and was genuinely glad
to see her. Vanora smiled then turned to speak to the new
soldier.

The plump wench returned with Malcus' refill. As she placed
the new mug onto the table, Malcus stared at her ample bosom.
The commander had always been partial to fuller women. He
could pick his teeth with a bone, so he preferred comfort
between the thick, soft thighs of a woman with some meat on
her. Malcus pulled the wench close to him and whispered
something, apparently naughty, in her ear which caused her to
turn crimson red. She hurriedly whispered something back to
Malcus, who smiled and nodded his head. The wench turned to
leave, but not without a firm squeeze on her ample bum from
the randy commander. Satisfied with what was going to be his
dessert, Barbattus hurriedly ate the rest of his stew.









Neeria

Neeria clung to the man who, in her mind, saved her life. The
scout tried to pry her fingers from around his calf, but
Neeria was too afraid to let go of him. To her, he was all
that held her onto life. She heard the guard laughing at her
and she bared her teeth at him, growling like a protective
bear.

Tristan
 
"Tristan. For fuck's sake, will you let go?"


The woad prisoner heard him speak over top her frantic cries.
Neeria froze and looked up at him, scrunching her nose. He'd
told her his name!

"Tristan? Tristan? Triiiiiiistan? Tristaaaaaaaaan?" she said
repeatedly, trying hard to say it like he had.

"Tris-tan," she said with finality, satisfied with her
pronounciation, "Thank you, Tris-tan, Tristan!" Neeria still
clung to him for her life.

Neeria pulled the blanket around her with her free hand and
held to Tristan tighter. "Scout....Triiiis-tan, you have saved
my life. Thank you," she said again softly, choking back her
tears. "Please don't leave me here. Not yet. Please."
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Mon Apr 14, 2008 5:43 pm

Brendyn and Vanora


Brendyn stood by knowing he had been dismissed, but wondering
when he should report for duty in the morning. He saw Malcus
pull the wench toward him, and whisper something confidential
in her ear, then she replied in kind. The young soldier
watched as the wench walked off please with whatever had been
said between them. Malcus had every reason to give the wench
the appreciative glance that he did...she was lovely and well
endowed. The soldier yawned too tired to be really interested
in any women right now...

Malcus
 
"Hello, my little fiery, red-headed beauty,"


Vanora nodded in return to the man's greetings, but seeing as
Bors was waitng for her, she did not want to stay long. "It is
good to see you as well, Malcus. Love to stay and talk but
Bors is waitng at home...haven't seen him for a while." She
turned when Brendyn introduced himself, Vanora gave him a warm
smile, "Nice to meet you, Brendyn. Now why don't you go and
get some rest before you fall over..." She had said this as it
looked as though he was on his way out anyway. Brendyn bowed
to her slightly, taking in her natural beauty as he did so.
Whoever she belonged to, he was a lucky man. Brendyn looked
back at Titrus and Malcus, "Sir, Sorry to interrupt, but what
time am I to report to you tomorrow?" Brendyn looked with
tired eagerness at his new Commander not wanting to be late
for his first day on the job...
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