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April 2008
Topic Started: Nov 5 2009, 10:37 PM (3,963 Views)
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Kayla
Date: Fri Apr 25, 2008 5:26 am

Fiona


It was strange to look towards her home from on top of the
parapet and see it from a different stand point then she was
used to. Fiona was completely lost in her thoughts for a few
moments as she leaned against the wall, peering out into the
beautiful view below and far beyond, leading on into the woods
that she used to call her home. Would she always feel this
slight sense of longing for the place she had grown up in? It
was natural, she figured, that she would miss and want to see
the people she had left behind but she was getting older now
and she was determined to find a way through it, relying a
little on the people she had made friends with in the
fortress, and herself as well. She did have one lingering,
knawing thought though, when it came to her people and that
was, what would happen now that the attacks Merlin had made on
the fort were over. What course of action would he, or even
Arthur, take now? The prospect made her nervous, almost as if
waiting in dreaded anticipation for what was going to happen
next.

Puffing out a small breath of air, the young woman found that
she didn't want to look away from the view, even as the wind
picked up slightly and blew her cloak a bit awry. Her mind was
pulled in different directions as she sighed slightly,
suppressing a shiver that was threatening. Fiona reached her
hand up and ran her small fingers through her hair, spilling
it over her shoulders as she moved her blue eyes to Tristan
and Catherine again, who was retreating away from the knight.

Tristan
 
"Little Woad."


His quiet words reached her ears as he passed through the
space behind her, and Fiona turned to look up at him. Out of
all of Arthur's knights, he was the one that intimidated her
the most, especially after seeing his skills in battle. But,
she had come across him a while back, when he had been on one
of his scouting trips and she had been among the woods with a
few of her fellow woads, learning a thing or two about
scouting the area herself before getting separated from them.
Coming across the scout, she had almost been sure that he
would kill her and to this day, she was not sure what had
stopped him. But, it only added to her previous thoughts that
too many people knew the truth about her being a woad already.
She still wasn't sure what to expect from him, though, or why
he had greeted her. She could only guess what he might think
of her people and she figured that it probably went for her
too, no matter how different she was from the woad warriors.

"Tristan," Fiona spoke quietly as he continued moving away
from her, trying to gain his attention. This probably wasn't
the best time but being one of Arthur's knights, he probably
knew the answer to the question that was still lingering in
her mind. "What will Arthur do now? About the attack?" She
half-way didn't expect him to answer her at all but this was
her chance to ask someone who was close with Arthur. And yes,
she was still worried about her people, and the fact that this
need for peace might not ever be filled.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: LadyCastus
Date: Fri Apr 25, 2008 5:34 am
Neeria


As the Roman moved closer to her, Neeria panicked. Damnable
Romans couldn't be trusted. But the woad was sick with fever
and exhausted. She'd drank the water Barbattus had brought to
her hours ago and her throat was sore from thirst again. As
the man drew nearer, Neeria braced herself for what might
happen.

Lucius
 
Does it hurt?


Neeria stared at the man. There was no ill-will in the tone of
his voice, but she didn't trust him. No Roman was to be
trusted and she hated this man standing before her. But
somehow, inexplicably, her tired eyes filled with tears. She
hated this man, but she saw the compassion on his face. As the
hot tears slid slowly down her face, Neeria lowered her head
and simply nodded, choking back a sob.

Lucius
 
Come. You need to see a healer


The words floated to her tired, weary ears like a fallen leaf
on an cool autumn day. Neeria, still shaking with fever,
looked back up to the Roman and locked on to his blue eyes.
Slowly, with all the strength and determination she could
muster, the small woman stood up and faced Lucius who towered
over her. In a very soft, resigned voice, she lowered her head
in submission.

"I will go with you, Roman."
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Pinkie
Date: Fri Apr 25, 2008 6:44 am
Eala


His talking only agitated Eala. She watched with frantic whips
of her head back and forth, watching their lips move but not
able to concentrate on what they were saying. The cold made
her body shake now and then though the little blonde was not
consciously aware of it. All of her energy was poured into
observing the two men who meant her harm. How could they not
mean her harm?! They were Romans and Eala knew that Romans did
not care for Woads. They would not care that they had killed
all of her family ... all of them. Right down to the last,
right down to Donnchadh!

The thought of her dead brother made Eala gasp. Her lean body
whipped backwards, back bending lower. That moment of intense
grief for her brother had almost blinded her - and when she
focussed on the men again they were moving.

One of them shouted, she could see by his face that he was
yelling at her and she opened her mouth wide, hissing at him
as if to tell him to stop shouting at her. Of course his
'shout' came across as nothing but a faint rumble against her
damaged ear-drum and his lips moved too quick for her to make
sense of his words.

The other man made a move and without thought Eala sprung
forward. She was brave, or stupid, to launch forward without a
thought to her own safety as bare as the day she was born. Her
arms flailed wildly and her legs latched about the man's
thighs awkwardly, trying to keep her balance as best she
could. This man had chains and he meant to put her into them.
The wild woad felt pain in her head, the man had her by the
hair. She let out another hoarse yelp though it sounded all
wrong. Instead of resisting the tug on her head she allowed
it, using the momentum to turn her head and sink her teeth
into the man's wrist. He was wearing a gauntlet but she was
persistent, angling her head down lower to bite his palm where
his skin was exposed.

The metallic taste of blood was in her mouth and it made her
stomach churn. Eala felt victorious for that though. While he
was distracted with the pain in his wrist, Eala dropped to her
feet but staggered a step. Instinctively she had her hand
crossed over her chest, holding her shoulder which was a
burning furnace of pain right now. There was blood trickling
down from her lower lip - a mixture of the guards and her own
from where one of her cuts had burst open in the attack.

Eala's black eyes looked over at the other man now, he was
making his move towards her. She hissed once and darted
forward. She used her sore shoulder to knock into the man and
the pain sent her sprawling to the floor. But not without a
semblance of victory. Her hand grappled with this man's leg
and she felt the hilt of a blade at his boot. It was bigger
than she normally used but Eala had the dagger out in the
blink of an eye, holding it in her good hand, her other arm
hanging uselessly by her side now.

It felt marvellous to have this dagger, to know she would do
damage with it. Eala backed off towards the door of the cell.
She held the blade out in front of her threateningly, not
realising there was someone else there, her eyes only pinned
to the two men in the cell now.










Saoirse

Dagonet
 
"I want this love... always has... always will"


Saoirse only realised that she had doubted his want for her
love when he admitted that he did want it. She only realised
it because she felt a surge of relief inside of her, she felt
as if the day had finally dawned, light filtered into her
existance again. It pained her to think that she had doubted
it beforehand, but it was her nature to doubt that which was
good in her life. People didn't love for the sake of loving.
They always wanted something in return and that something was
usually that which a person could not give. Their whole
selves. But in this case, in the case of Dagonet, Saoirse knew
she was willing to give whatever it would take to keep his
love.

The man slumped back onto the bed having attempted to sit up a
moment ago. Saoirse sighed, giving him a shaky smile in thanks
for his words. She was a little naive to think that he was
placated for the time being, she let her defenses down a
little. But he was not yet finished. He had more hurt inside
of him that needed purging now, he had more words that needed
to be said. The red head scrunched her knees up higher,
resting them against Dagonet's side and her hand came down to
rst on his far shoulder, her arm above his head, as she
sheltered him.

Fresh tears fell from his reddened eyes...

Dagonet
 
"I want to be... happy... I want to have... home... I
want to have you.. I want this love. But there is death
and pain written in me.... Saoirse. I don't know... how
to deal with them...."


There was a frantic edge to his voice. Saoirse bit her bottom
lip in anxiety as she watched the emotions play across his
face. She felt so helpless, so dumb and helpless as she sat
there watching him fall to pieces again. More than anything
she wanted to tell him that this was her fault, that she was
the one who brought death and pain in her wake, but she didn't
want him to hate her. She didn't want him to believe that
which she already believed because it would mean she had
killed Gedeon and she didn't want to believe that herself!

Dagonet
 
"Wake me... Wake me from this nightmare, Saoirse... Wake
me from this pain... I can't stand it anymore... Shake
it off me. Please.. do anything that this all would go
away... this fear and guilt. Everything. Please make me
breath fully again... Just say this will be alright...
No father should bury his son... And I can't even do it.
There was no body... no body. I don't even know if he
found peace... I can't speak with the gods. Not anymore.
I've lost them also..."


He tried to pull her closer. Saoirse's troubled face became
intense as she skooched forward, unfolding her legs to lie her
body down flush with Dagonet's hurting one. His head was at
her shoulder and she bowed her own head, feeling the bristle
of his short cropped hair against her chin as she shut her
eyes, listening to his sad pleadings. Every word was like a
knife to her stomach. Each word left her feeling so helpless.

How was she to wake him when it was this very waking world
that was causing him the pain? How could she shake it off of
him when the pain he felt was not on him, but in him? She
could not plead with the gods to come back to him because she
had no idea how to talk to the gods who had abandonned her
many, many years ago. All she had was herself. Her body, her
mind, her heart and her spirit. The red head was grinding her
teeth hard to keep from letting all these things spill over.
She shut her blue eyes and skooched down further so that her
face was level with Dagonet's.

"Shh love... don't bury yerself in all a'this guilt, please
don't." she murmured, kissing his cheek, her brow furrowed as
she sought lower to his lips. It was not the most romantic of
kisses but she persisted, deepening the intimacy as best she
could through the tears that threatened to spill from her own
eyes. When she withdrew she felt breathless, her eyes still
shut, her forehead leaning against Dagonet's.

"There's more t'life than tha' hurt, I promise ye there'll be
more. Just give it some more time an' y'll see there's more
than guilt an' ... an'.. hurt. There's more, I swear there's
more." the red head whispered.









Drake

His entrance had not been silent, so why did she not look up?
Where was the spark of human curiosity that would lead her to
wonder who approached? Drake could feel his guts twisting into
an uncomfortable knot even now, even before she lifted her
face and he saw the haunted look to her hazel eyes.
Immediately he stiffened. His whole posture changed to one of
defense. Someone had hurt her whilst he had been gone from her
side. Someone had done terrible pains to her and he had not
been there to protect her. Where the hell had her husband
been? Why had he not stopped this from happening!?

An indescribable anger reddened Drake's vision for a moment,
his furious green eyes looking down at Linnette, beseeching
her to speak the hurts done upon her so that he could right
them, so that he could ensure someone suffered a
thousand-fold. The only damn thing he was good at in life was
protection, was guarding those that he cared about and look
how terribly he had failed! Look how his feelings had made him
turn aside from her even for the least division of an hour,
and look at the hurt that had attached itself to her in that
short time!

Linnette
 
"D..."


That one letter from her lips seemed to make his world shake.
She said no more than that one syllable and her face screwed
up. Drake's lips spread out in a thin line of concern, that
anger he had felt at himself started to dwindle into something
else, something gentler. Concern for Linnette. His mind was
engaged now without the red haze of rage from thinking someone
had hurt Linnette. He started to assess things more clearly as
she crumpled before him.

Without thought Drake fell to his knees and then to his
backside, twisting his body so that he sat next to Linnette.
His hand slid up her upper arm on the far side of her body and
he pulled her to him, his other arm reaching around her back.
He did not suffer any resistance from her, ignoring even the
slightest tension as he held her to him. She felt tiny next to
him . She felt so cold. Drake frowned down at her and lifted a
protective hand to the side of her head, sheltering her from
the cold wind as much as he could.

Her husband was gone. Dead. Drake didn't need to be told that
much. It was all obvious when he let down his own prejudices
and defenses. He had no words for the woman who was falling
apart next to him right now and he wished he did. Even just
one word from his lips, just ... one damn word.

"Easy..." he mumured the request, wanting her to calm a little
so that she could catch her breath, wanting her to be able to
tell him where she hurt so that he could try fix it for her,
though Drake knew he couldn't fix it. Not unless he could turn
back time and bring her husband back to her. A little part of
his mind prayed that her husband's death was not the reason
for this.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: SarmatianKnight
Date: Fri Apr 25, 2008 6:53 am
Lucius


The reaction he got to his question was not what he had
expected. Probably the staring and the moment of silence, yes,
but not the tears. He was slightly swamped with emotions of an
unknown person. He waited and gave her time to gather herself.
With the watery eyes, sitting on the mattress she something of
a lost child and although it was hard to tell how old she was,
she reminded him of his sister. the sister he loved so much.
The sister he wanted to become a beautiful young woman who
should live a happy life with a loving husband and children
and no sorrows. When the memory around his sister and her
death dared to return his eyes darkened for a brief moment
before he pushed the thoughts away. Not now.

Lucius focused on the woman again, tried to see the enemy, the
Woad, the prisoner. And she still reminded him of his sister.
She looked weary and weak, trembling slightly due to the
coldness - or fear? Or was that sweat on her face? He could
not really tell because the dim light was not enough to really
see. He waited patiently until she stood.

Neeria
 
"I will go with you, Roman."


Good. So much about leg irons and violence. Lucius had no
doubt that there was always another way. Although he had to
admit that in this particular case the main reason for the
obedience was pain and exhaustion. "As if you would have
another choice" he answered in a probably typically Roman way
but a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He looked at
the blanket wrapped around the slender body and considered if
she needed anything else on their way to the infirmary. No -
was the result of the thoughts. Lucius opened the door and
lead her out of the cell. He let her walk alone, freely,
because he dared to be sure that she would not be strong
enough to fight him and not fast enough to run away. They
passed the other cells and Lucius ignored the smell of blood
and other things he did not want to think about, the screams
and moans and sighs of the creatures who atracted Rome's
resentment for several reasons. He looked back over his
shoulder to the cell where Barbattus and Titrus were busy in
and he wondered if he should report and tell his Captain that
he was leaving. And again the answer was no. He had his order
so why reporting again? He had a brain to think for himself.
On their way to the infirmary the soldier did not touch Neeria
in any way, just in moments when he had the feeling her
exhausted body needed a helping hand. Any curious looks of the
people outside he ignored. They stared.

They reached the infirmary without problems. While one of the healers there looked after Neeria Lucius left to fulfill the second part of his order. Food. He entered the tavern and returned to the infirmary with some bread and meat and a green apple. He wondered who would eat such a hard and tart thing at all. But well, it was food and the best things he could find at the moment. He waited for the healer to leave Neeria.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: LadyCastus
Date: Fri Apr 25, 2008 7:48 am
Malcus Barbattus


Malcus sprang into action, rushing to Titrus' side to assist.
The child was clinging on the soldier like a spider. In a
flash, she jumped down from the lieutenant and charged at the
commander like a battering ram. As she approached, Barbattus
back handed her, hard, and sent her sprawling to the floor,
arms and legs flying.

"Why you little BITCH!" the commander yelled, "I'll fucking
kill you, you fucking woad! You dare attack one of my
soldiers?!"

He grabbed the child by her hair and snatched, yanking her
face upward to meet his deadly gaze. He saw blood on her mouth
and teeth, either hers, Titrus' or both, he wasn't sure.
Barbattus looked to Titrus as the rabid girl wriggled from his
grasp, oblivious to the clump of hair Barbattus still held in
his hand when she broke free. Titrus grabbed the woad's legs
and tried to stop her kicking. To his horror, Malcus realized
the girl had got a hold of the his boot and unsheathed the
dagger he kept there.

With complete lunacy in her eyes, the woad swung wildly with
the blade in her hand. Barbattus lowered into offensive
position, prepared to take the child out. Suddenly, he saw
Brendyn darkend the doorframe and he got an idea.

Malcus looked back at Titrus and gave a silent command with
his eyes, motioning with his head. Titrus nodded that he
understood the order. In one swift motion, Malcus bent down
and picked up the blanket he'd been carrying and threw it over
the woad's head. Titrus then sprung forward and tackled the
girl to the floor and grabbed her wrist, twisting it to almost
breaking, so she would drop the dagger. That's exactly what
she did.

The small beast thrashed about under the blanket, groaning and
hissing like a demon. Malcus had her pinned good, though, and
she could do no more damage. The commander fought back the
urge to kill her. Oh, how he wanted to snap her little neck.

"Brendyn, help Titrus secure the prisoner!" Barbattus ordered.

After the woad child was securely fastened in the irons,
Malcus put his face to hers.

"You will not be allowed a second time to injure one of my
men," he spat. Then he looked to Titrus and Brendyn, "If she
so much as throws an arm or leg, cut her. Now get her out of
here." he growled. "Titrus, have that bite looked at when
you're at the infirmary. This little bitch may have infected
you with something."









Neeria

Neeria was led out of her cell by the Roman guard. Her bare
foot ached and burned on the cold, slimy floor as she slowly
limped out into the dark corridor. There was a loud commotion
going on a few cells down from Neeria's but she couldn't see
what was going on. Slowly, the Roman walked the woad down the
corridor and out into the yard. The brightness of outside
blinded Neeria and she blinked frantically to get her eyes
adjusted. She was aware that the Roman never touched her,
never pushed her or urged her forward. She was grateful. The
thought of him touching her made her ill. For an instant, the
warrior considered making a run for it or trying to overtake
the guard, but she knew she was in no condition to do either.
The wound at her side was an angry pussie mess and her foot
was cracked and raw. The loss of blood, the fever and the lack
of food prevented any thoughts of escape to materialize. For
now, she was at the Roman's mercy.

As they made their way through the common area en route to the
infirmary, Neeria raised her head slightly and looked around.
When they arrived at the infirmary, the Roman told her to stay
put, that he would return. Then, the Roman left her under the
care of an older woman; apparently, a nun. Neeria eyed the
woman suspicisously as the healer pulled back the blanket to
examine Neeria's wound and gasped.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Darya
Date: Fri Apr 25, 2008 8:36 am
Neeve & Darya


Arthur
 
“Lancelot, you will allow Neeve to see to that arm now,
my friend,”


Lancelot
 
"Hadrian's balls! Fine. It's fine. Honestly - ow. Fuck."


Neeve could not help the sparkle of triumph that was clearly
visible in her blue eyes when Lancelot finally gave in and
granted her a closer look at his arm. When the knight took off
the tunic he was wearing, the healer arched an eyebrow and
allowed herself a moment of assessing the Sarmatian. He had
been handsome as teenager…and he still was one picture of a
man. Some more scars…but still… Smirking slightly to herself,
the Briton then thoroughly tended to Lancelot’s injury. It was
indeed nothing too serious, but if not seen to, it could still
get infected…and cost the knight his life. “Let me be the
judge of how 'fine' it is, Lancelot…”, Neeve said while
focusing on the wound.

Arthur
 
“You look tired…sleep here with me, hm?”


Darya gave Arthur a weary smile before she watched him closing
his eyes. It seemed the healer’s tea was working well. “I’m
not going anywhere…”, the female Sarmatian promised quietly
and sat down on the edge of the bed… Her dark gaze shifted
from the sleeping Roman to the healer, who was finally taking
care of Lancelot…and back to Arthur… She shifted on the bed,
sensing that the last long exhausting days were slowly but
surely taking their toll. And at some point, the dark-haired
had fallen into a light sleep, resting rather slouched with
her upper body laying on the blankets that covered Arthur’s
legs. It was comforting to feel him nearby…and she would know
immediately should the Roman wake up…or so she hoped…

Neeve finished her work on Lancelot’s injury and was quite
satisfied with the result. The First Knight should be at his
best in no time. But when the healer wanted to inform the
Sarmatian about this, she noticed that his dark eyes were
shut. He had fallen asleep. An almost motherly smile briefly
spread on the Briton’s full lips and she gently pulled the
tunic out of the man’s other hand and used it as a blanket to
cover the knight’s bare upper body. Then her blue gaze shifted
towards Arthur…and she saw the Roman sound asleep, too…as well
as Darya. The raven-haired suddenly felt strangely out of
place…but she would stay in this room nonetheless. Someone had
to watch over those exhausted souls…especially over Arthur.
His condition was still critical and it would be irresponsible
of her to leave now… Thus the healer quietly cleaned the
things she had used, sorted things out…and already packed the
things she knew she would not use anymore…
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: LadyCastus
Date: Fri Apr 25, 2008 10:32 am
Malcus Barbattus


Once Titrus and Brendyn left the dungeons with the woad
prisoners, Malcus left also and headed to his office. The
commander was in a high state of agitation. He adjusted his
cloak as he entered the adminstrative office and threw it to
the side. That damned Merlin and his followers! To hell with
all of the vile beasts. Malcus still had the urge to punch
someone, he was furious. He wanted to talk to Arthur and find
out what the bloody hell his plans were regarding the native
demons. The commander went to the wash basin and splashed
water on his face and neck, trying to steady his anger. As the
icy cold water hit him, he felt immediate relief and felt the
rage within slowly dissipate. As Barbattus sat down in the
large chair behind his desk, it was still early morning, yet
he wondered what else lay in store for him.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Kay
Date: Fri Apr 25, 2008 12:02 pm
Guinevere


Guinevere strode across the encampment, deep in thought, when
a voice cut into her reverie:

Mona
 
"Good to see you again on this new day, Guinevere. Has
Merlin awakened yet?"


She looked up suddenly, then smiled a little when she saw
Mona.

"I was just making my way to his shelter" Guinevere replied.
"You are to come with us on the mission, aren't you? We have
to wait for a signal from the fort; Ash will let us know if he
needs help finding Neeria and Eala."

She shivered a little in the chill of the damp air, and
wondered how her friend was fairing; the Romans would surely
have thrown her in the dungeons. Guinevere wrapped her cloak
around her body a little tighter.

"Come" she said to Mona. "Let's walk together"








Grace

Grace woke with a start; she had slept badly; images of
snarling, bloody men haunted her dreams.

She scrambled out of bed and crept into her mother's room; the
woman was sleeping peacefully. Grace gently stroked her
mother's face, glad that the medicine was doing it's job.
Closing the door again quietly, Grace moved quietly about the
hut, as she washed and dressed, ready for the day ahead.

"Caroline" she called to her sister. "We must have our
breakfast, then you can help me set up the stall. We will have
to take turns looking after mother whilst the other serves at
the market"

Caroline yawned and climbed off her pallet.

"You hate working the stall" she said.

"I know that" Grace replied. "But we cannot afford to lose a
day of trading, so I will have to go out there, won't I?"

"I can do it" Caroline said.

Grace sighed. Caroline was well known for wandering off if
left alone at the stall for too long; they lost half of the
stock last time she did it.

"You know that isn't sensible" Grace said. "This way is
better"

She held up her hand to stop Caroline's protests.

"I'm going to check the hens" she said. "A nice frsh egg is
just what Mother needs for her breakfast", and she quickly
ducked out into the back yard before Caroline could say
another word.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: LadyCastus
Date: Fri Apr 25, 2008 12:15 pm
Mona


Guinevere
 
I was just making my way to his shelter. You are to come
with us on the mission, aren't you?


"Yes, it is Merlin's wish that I assist in the mission to
free, Neeria," she said. "I hope that Neeria has survived,"
Mona added. In reality, she wasn't sure if she hoped that at
all. Getting Neeria out of the picture may be the best thing
that's happened to Mona. But then she cursed herself for
thinking such a thing. Neeria was her best friend.

Guinevere pulled her cloak closely around her body in the
morning chill. Mona relished the coldness and she felt
invigorated.

Guinevere
 
”Come, let's walk together"


Mona nodded and aligned herself next to her leader. They
walked in companionable silence for a while, then Mona stopped
and faced Guinevere. She locked eyes with Guinevere and
steeled herself for the response she might receive.

"Guinevere, do you think perhaps Neeria has betrayed us to the
Romans?"
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Fri Apr 25, 2008 1:02 pm
Brendyn


Malcus
 
"Why you little BITCH!  I'll fucking kill you, you fucking woad! You dare attack one of my soldiers?!"


Shit! The young soldier ran faster and reached the cell, which
looked like a ruddy colluseum tournament! What chilled him was
not the blood that was on Titrus and Malcus, but how the
"thing" they were fighting seemed to be half animal and half
human? He had not seen the whole fight, but had heard most of
it...until he he made a quick gaze to Malcus and Titrus who
was definitly bleeding...actually from Brendyn's point of
view, there was blood on all three combatants...

Brendyn saw Malcus catch the wild young girl in the blanket
throwing it over her head, then he saw Titrus tackle the
child, and bring her down, and making her lose the dagger. Now
the dagger lie nearby, and Malcus had the hissing, demonic
sounding child pinned to the floor...

Malcus
 
"Brendyn, help Titrus secure the prisoner!"


Without hesitiation, Brendyn moved quickly forward as Malcus
clapped the young "wild cat" in irons. The young soldier had
not gotten a good look at the prisoner, but she had looked
young and lean. Antonius had told him once "never to judge a
book by it's cover ", so Brendyn did take the young woad as a
weakling...she was strong, that was for sure. But outside of
hisses and growels, Brendyn had not heard her say, or should
anything. Any normal prisoner would have been screaming their
head off for freedom and what have you.

This young girl said nothing but sounds...

Still Brendyn had a duty to do, and nothing short of this wild
thing dying would have made him go back on Malcus's orders. He
and Titrus held on well to the irons as Malcus addressed the
woad again...

Malcus
 
"You will not be allowed a second time to injure one of
my men," "If she so much as throws an arm or leg, cut
her. Now get her out of here." "Titrus, have that bite
looked at when you're at the infirmary. This little
bitch may have infected you with something."


Brendyn nodded, and helped Titrus lead the woad prisoner to
see a healer, or at least one that was brave enough to look at
the girl. He would carry Malcus's orders to the letter if the
"cat" so much as hurt one of the healers or anyone else. Nuns
had a thing against "wild" people, and Brendyn prayed that God
would send them one of His choosing. He was a soldier first,
with a duty to those in Command at the fort...compassion for
his enemies was next to nothing...

He and Titrus led the hissing, growling, thrashing, chained
bundle into the infirmary, and looked about at the odd looks
that came from the nuns and healers on duty. "We need a healer
here...."









Ione

She finished washing herself, dressing, and fixing her hair,
then walked out of the small room with the basin and throwing
the dirty water out of the shop into the snow. Walking out a
bit to find fresh untouched snow, Ione took a basin full and
brought it inside to melt down for her bath later when night
came. Replacing the basin in the small room on a table at the
foot of the bed, Ione stood there for a moment and looked at
the bed....

Javier had tended to her wounds there, had kissed her there,
and had just...been there. Now, he was gone and the
uncertainty of his return hit her again. He had been the type
of man who had loved her for who she was, and she had loved
him...she still did. Moving from the room, and walking to the
hearth, Ione built a warm fire there, and placed the kettle on
to heat up some water for tea. Taking one of the overturned
chairs and uprighting it, Ione curled up and stared at the
growing fire. She was not the most brilliant sometimes, but
there was something she had begun to figure out...gradually...

She had not had a cycle for almost a month if that, she had
gotten sick twice so far then felt fine after words....and why
was she craving food she had never liked before? Ione frowned
as she recalled watching Vanora before she had the
twins....sick in the morning, eating food that was odd,
emotional. The young weaver's face deepned in the frown.

Was she...pregnant? Her fear deepened at the thought....Could
that be true? Ione looked about herself at the things strewn
about her, and tears came to her eyes. What if this was true
and Javier never returned for her? Then, Mirtha's face came
into her mind, and the tears brimmed in her dark chocolate
eyes. If Javier never came back, there was Mirtha. Ione tucked
her knees up under her chin and thought of the bout of
lovemaking she and Mirtha had engaged in. At first she had
been terrified of the fact that he was drunk, but then, once
she warmed up to him, the act between them had been very
natural with no hesitations. Each knew what the other had
wanted without asking...

She got up from where she sat and made the tea in a large mug
and sat back down, staring into the fire, and thinking of what
her future was going to be like without Javier there with
her....

Would any man consider loving her now?

Ione tried to think positive, but all that came up were
doubts...
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Pinkie
Date: Fri Apr 25, 2008 1:05 pm
Eala


Eala felt mocked when the man grabbed her by the hair. He
leaned down close to her and spoke words so close that she
could feel the vibration of them in the air - but understand
them? Not a chance. She was not attuned to this male at all
though given some time she might be able to start deciphering
things. In this present situation though, with tensions
running so damn high, deciphering anything beyond his emotions
was useless.

The idea of stabbing one of these men was the only thing that
kept Eala on her feet. She was too tired and weak from
injuries to be at her best however, so when a mere blanket
over her head was enough to bring her down, Eala fell like a
sack of bricks. She struggled still though. Something in her
shoulder snapped back into place when one of them pulled her
arms back to shackle them. The pain was excrutiating and she
screamed both in pain and at the indignation of being
shackled. She felt the cold iron against her skin and let out
another pained whine, her head tipped as far back as it would
go and her mouth wide open, filled with the itchy blanket.

She was hauled to her feet but did not walk, letting her legs
turn to jelly and forcing the men to carry her. Eala was
pretty sure they were going to kill her now. Why else would
they be bringing her away from the dungeons? The blanket was
still over her head and body, hanging down to her pale knees
sadly.

It was not enough to stop the wind from biting through and
freezing her. Every now and then Eala shrugged the hands away
from her and when the movement proved futile she let her legs
turn back to jelly.

They entered a building - Eala's teeth were chattering loudly
beneath the blanket. One of the men took his hands off of her
and she made to run again but ended up just tripping on the
chains and falling onto her front awkwardly - it caused the
blanket to pull off one side of her head revealing her tiny
face beneath. Her short blonde hair was standing out at all
angles and her face was streaked with tears she had not known
she was crying until now. Rolling onto her back, Eala shut her
black eyes and wished for home.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Fri Apr 25, 2008 5:24 pm
Bors and Vanora


He stirred against her, and opened his eyes to greet the dim
light of day. Bors looked over at Vanora as she stirred as
well. He had missed her, and they had enjoyed their lovemaking
even more, but now it was daylight almost and he had to see
what was going on with the rest of the world. Kissing Vanora,
he got out of bed, wincing as his foot it the floor because of
his leg injury, and washed and got dressed. Vanora was almost
ready to wake up, but he knew best not to bother her and just
let her wake up n her own....

Bors slipped out of the house with his heavy jacket pulled
tightly about him. How were the other knights, and Arthur? He
made his way over the frozen ground toward the tavern....









Brendyn

Brendyn felt the prisoner break from he and Titrus's grasp,
and he recalled what Malcus had told them both. This woad,
despite the fact that she was young, was still a prisoner and
an enemy. He ran after the woad and stopped as she tripped on
the chains causing her to fall forward...the blanket had
slipped off of her head as well. The woad had rolled on to her
back. She was a mess to be sure, but Brendyn just too a hold
of the chains and dragged her to her feet....

"Come on, woad. Up you go," He firmly grasped on to the chains
now and brought her to face him. There was no way she was
getting away from them this time. His voice was deadly, "I
have my orders, and nothing short of watching you die due to
your stupidity will make me go back on them....do you
understand?" He glanced at Titrus who nodded taking the other
side of the chains, and making sure he had them firmly. His
deep blue eyes studied the young girl, who, if she cleaned up
could have been rather lovely for her age. Right now, her hair
was askew, and tears streaked her dirty face...tears of anger
no doubt, but Brendyn knew that the more she fought and
remained dangerous....the closer she was to just being left to
die. He had seen it happen before to other prisoners...

Calming his tone, but not letting down his guard, Brendyn
said, ' if it is your wish to fight for your freedom, then you
should let someone tend to you...otherwise your woulds will
become infected and you will die. Will you let them treat
you?' It troubled him a bit that this young girl had not
spoken, and wondered if there was some way of communicating
with her, besides looking into those angry, wild, untamed eyes
that said so much...

He did not care about her name, and he had not been given
orders to be gentle. Brendyn just wanted her tended to, so he
and Titrus could get her back to the dungeons....
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Fri Apr 25, 2008 7:06 pm

Merlin


Juna
 
”Merlin, I have wanted you for so long.”


He traced over her cheekbone with his fingers, the
breathlessness occasioned by hungry kiss fading a little,
replaced by tenderness at the slight sadness, almost hurt, in
her voice. Clearly, he was a fool not to have seen this
earlier, not too have perceived the advantages, to both of
them, in expressing what had always been unsaid between them,
rather than dancing around it and tormenting each other with
it. He had been a fool. His fingers glided upwards, over the
fine arch of her eyebrow and back down her cheek; her sharp
features had taken on an indescribable beauty to him in the
dawn light. Truly, every man saw the face of the Goddess in
his beloved- and he did, here and now.

“Juna…” he whispered her name softly, for no purpose other
than to say it. He wanted her badly, too, wanted to bury
himself inside her and hear her make those little sounds of
pleasure that she had before. And he didn’t want to wait.
Leaving another gentle kiss on her mouth- gentle, always
gentle- he pushed himself up so that he knelt between her
legs, loosened the thong at his waist, and pushed his pants
down over narrow hips. He wasn’t abashed about his nudity- not
in the least- and he took a moment to drink in the sight of
her lying beneath him, even though she was still partially
clothed.

“I forget that when you came to us you were already a woman,”
he murmured quietly, gazing down at her with heavy-lidded
eyes. He ran his hands up the outside of her thighs, slowly
and deliberately pushing her skirt up the rest of the way. Her
pale skin shone like a jewel in the gray light.

“You seemed like a girl to me then.” Why was he telling her
that? He didn’t even know- surely it didn’t matter now. He
slid one hand sideways towards her center, just cupping it at
first, then letting his thumb search for the small nub that
would give her the most pleasure. He found it, and let a
satisfied smile spread over his face at her gratifying
reaction.

“Open for me,” he commanded in a whisper, as, still slowly and
deliberately, he positioned himself and pressed forward,
entering her and filling her. He shut his eyes as he lay
forward on her, burying his face once more in her neck,
letting their bodies mesh together as one- she felt like
heaven itself.











Tristan

Fiona
 
Tristan, what will Arthur do now? About the attack?”


Tristan turned back, giving the girl a sharp look for her
impulsive question. Why did she ask that? Why did she ask him?
Surely she knew- first hand- what fate awaited Woads who
rebelled against Rome. It was a stupid question- and yet she
stood there with that worried, half-hopeful look on her face,
as if she might be able to get some reassurance from him.
Well, Tristan had none to give- and no good opinion of Merlin
right now. He took a step towards her, advancing a little
threateningly, his golden eyes burning and his head tilted a
little to one side- like a hunter sizing up a potential prey.

“You know what will happen,” he rasped. And you know your
father is a lying, oath-breaking bastard, Tristan added in his
mind, though he did not say that out loud. A slight, angry
twist of his mouth in the direction of the woods below the
parapet sufficed to express that particular sentiment.











Linnette

Drake
 
”Easy…”


Easy. Much easier said than done. Linnette tried desperately
to get her great, gulping sobs under control, but they just
seemed to come and come, hardly bearing any relation any more
to what was going on around her, or even what was going on in
her mind. They were just automatic, happening whether she
willed them or not, despair taking over her to the exclusion
of all else. She was dimly aware that Drake had sat down
beside her, had put his arm around her and shielded her face
from the wind, but that only made it easier to pull into a
little ball and try to shut out the world, try her best to
disappear into the stones. It was darker, though, if she hid
her head against him, and distinctly warmer- the combination
of that seemed to sink into her and gradually, very, very
gradually, her sobs became smaller, the tightness in her chest
eased just a little bit, and she was able to raise her head
and look up at him, trying to form words.

“He…they say he…fell…f…from a wall just like this one.” That
last phrase brought a new flood of tears with it, and by the
end of it her voice was a mere squeak, but it seemed important
to get that information out, somehow- to explain this and to
bring the subject of Gedeon, as talk and memories was all
there could be of him now. That was all she could say right
now, though; she ducked her head and hid her face in her
sleeve again, but her crying was softer now, though fresh,
despairing tears still wet her sleeve.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: linnet
Date: Fri Apr 25, 2008 8:02 pm
Mother Lavinia


Lavinia was in the process of making the morning rounds. She
had been working most of the night, managing only a couple
hours of sleep before daylight. The place was full of wounded
men from the Segedenum campaign, others injured in the Woad
attack, and a few still sickened by the fever that had hit the
fort. She was in a foul mood, feeling overwhelmed by the sheer
number of bodies needing care. And to top it off, three of her
staff were more or less awol. Her best had been called to
personally attend to Castus. Alina had simply gallivanted off
to spend time with her returning knight. And Saorise was
unavailable to anyone but her gravely injured knight. Knights
– they were enough to tempt one to blaspheme.

The cranky nun walked briskly among the wards and private
rooms, followed at a respectful distance by a handful of
healers who had not been pirated by knights. She quickly
assessed each patient, and barked out orders to her underlings
to change dressings, clean wounds, minister medicines. By St.
Peter, she would maintain order and efficiency in her realm
despite the overload. As she strode into the main ward,
someone called to her from near the door. Lavinia shooed away
her entourage, with a backwards wave of her hand, telling them
to get busy. When she reached the doorway, she was met by a
nervous looking healer and a young woman wrapped in a blanket,
standing like a frightened and wounded animal. The healer
pulled aside the blanket, and Lavinia was appalled. A
frightful open wound to the slender woman’s midsection oozed
and radiated bright red lines of infection. And it was no
wonder. The creature was covered in filth, with scant clothing
left to cover her body. “Mother of Mercy,” Lavinia spat. The
younger healer explained that a soldier had left the woman,
saying he would return for her. No wonder she was such a mess.
She was a prisoner.

“This woman isn’t going anywhere,” Lavinia said. She addressed
the woman, matter of factly. “You’re a Woad aren’t you? Can
you understand me? We’re going to treat your wound and clean
you up. You are not going back to that cesspool of a prison.
Wait here while I find a bed for you.” She stalked off, her
destination determined.

When she reached the bed with the soundly sleeping knight, she
gave a little snort at his loud snoring. “Wake up, knight!”
she commanded, roughly shaking the shoulder of his non-broken
arm. “This isn’t the drunk tank. Go finish sleeping it off in
your own bed. We need this one. And don’t use that arm until I
tell you to. Come back to have it checked next week. For now
stop at the apothecary’s and get some tincture of witch hazel
to keep the swelling down.” Lavinia said most of this walking
away from the befuddled knight. She called to a nearby
assistant to make the bed up immediately.

She returned to the Woad. “Follow me,” she instructed the weak
woman. “You too,” she added to the healer. As they headed
toward the hopefully vacated and clean bed at the far side of
the ward, Lavinia heard noises back by the doorway. She
stopped and looked back. “Mother Mary and Joseph!” she
exclaimed, not believing what had just entered her kingdom.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: LadyCastus
Date: Fri Apr 25, 2008 11:13 pm
Neeria


When the healer pulled back the blanket wrapped around the
prisoner, the cool air hit Neeria's exposed wound and she
cringed in agony. The fever radiated through her body and she
was weak and shaking. The woad wobbled slightly, trying to
keep her balance while her eyes darted about her new
unfamiliar surroundings. The infirmary was immaculately clean
and smelled of herbs and tonics. There were wounded bodies
laying on the cots scattered throughout the ward.

Lavinia
 
You’re a Woad aren’t you?


Yes. That I am, Neeria said wearily, peering at the woman
standing in front of her. The woad hoped this woman would be
able to help her.

Lavinia
 
We’re going to treat your wound and clean you up. You
are not going back to that cesspool of a prison. Wait
here while I find a bed for you.


Neeria stared wide-eyed at the fiesty woman. The warrior had
no idea who she was but she must have been some one of
importance in the infirmary to make such a decision. Neeria
was grateful to the healer - an emotion she had experienced
several times since her capture but did not understand. She
hated these people, she wanted to hate them. They were
responsible for the death of her people - of her husband and
so many other woads. She hated Arthur Castus and had set out
to kill him. But she didn't kill him when she had the chance.
She'd failed. Neeria shook her head to clear her tired mind.
She was confused and sick with fever. The pain in her side was
blinding and she could feel the goo slowly sliding down her
side. She was starving and thirsty and she just couldn't think
clearly at that moment. The prisoner leaned against the wall
while she waited for the healer.

By the time the woman returned, Neeria's head was spinning and
she felt faint.

Lavinia
 
Follow me.


Neeria hadn't taken but 2 steps with the woman when there was
a loud commotion just inside the door.

Lavinia
 
Mother Mary and Joseph!


Neeria turned around, gasping at the pain in her side. Her
mouth fell open as she turned around and saw Eala.
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