Welcome Guest [Log In] [Register]
Welcome to Na The Past. We hope you enjoy your visit.


You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free.


Join our community!


If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features:

Username:   Password:
Add Reply
May 2008
Topic Started: Mar 18 2010, 02:23 AM (3,632 Views)
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Kay
Date: Mon May 12, 2008 2:34 am
Guinevere


Connell
 
"Lady, for certain there is protection in great numbers.
But I think-- and I could be mistaken, for you are far
greater practiced in fighting methods than I-- this may
be the time to cloak ourselves in secrecy and keep our
numbers small, less noticeable. It would be easier to
get us three inside, easier than five. And perhaps I am
rushing things in my impatience, but I don't think we
should wait too long. Neeria may be fighting for her
life even now. I say, we give it no more than a day for
the signal of the man inside. If we don't get it, we
need to devise our own plan. What do you say?


Guineverre turned to look at the healer and was about to speak
when Mona interrupted:

Mona
 
“Guinevere for once I agree with the healer. Besides,
Merlin entrusted this mission to just the three of us.
Bringing in more people could be a serious mistake, not
to mention a possible breach in security. We cannot put
ourselves nor Ash at unnecessary risk. We are more than
capable of handling any forces against us. I don’t want
my sister-in-arms to suffer not one minute longer than
necessary. We are close to the wall, we will be there
before dark or just after. We must be there to receive
Ash’s signal"


The Woad princess narrowed her eyes. Of course Mona would
agree with Connell! This made Giunevere all the more
determined.

"No" she said, as calmly as possibly. "We will do as I have
said. I will instruct two men to accomply us. They can remain
with us, and help keep watch for Ash's signal"

And before the others could argue the point any further, she
strode off to find the men that her father had selected to
wait behind.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Ranchera
Date: Mon May 12, 2008 7:13 am
Connell


"If it is as you wish, lady," Connell replied, respectfully as
possible. "We must do our best to keep hidden so that their
scouts don't detect our presence as we wait." And if they did,
their small party would be felled by a few arrows and that
would be the sad end of that. Who knew how long Neeria might
be held captive before she met a similar or even worse fate at
the hands of the Roman guards?

Connell fretted internally. He didn't dare look at Mona. He
finished what he allowed himself to eat and waited for
Guinevere to tell them when they should depart or where they
should wait. He still thought they were too dependant on Ash.
What if something had happened to him?
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Darya
Date: Mon May 12, 2008 9:20 am
Darya


Galahad
 
"I wasn't keeping count. I couldn't really... I was
right in the thick of it you see. Gawain and me took out
at least 40 between us though. And Arthur, gods he got
that big ... g.. guy... "


Tristan
 
"Eh...good riddance. Glad he did. Better than taking him
home,"


The dark Sarmatian listened to her countrymen’s words and a
frown creased her brow when Galahad began to talk about
what…or who…Arthur had encountered on the battlefield. That
big guy. A part of her was dieing to know who that man had
been…but deep inside, she did not care. The man was
dead…Arthur was here. That was all that counted in the end,
was it not? “Did you bring even more…people…back here except
that Woad woman?”, she murmured and wrinkled her nose
slightly, sniffing quietly as she did so. She was not too keen
on the idea of perhaps even more Woads wandering about the
Fort. They had had Guinevere and two or so more…and what had
it led to?

Darya shook her head slightly to herself and then granted
herself a moment to regard her fellow Sarmatians. She was
honestly glad to see them all…and even more so to see them all
alive. One loss – the loss of Gedeon – was already one too
much. There were injuries to be dealt with though…Arthur’s,
Lancelot’s…Bors'…and Dagonet had not looked well either when
they had returned, beside his obvious grief for the loss of
his son.

The woman let her tongue brush along the line of her upper
front teeth while lowering her gaze to automatically watch
Tristan smudge around some loose grains… She kneaded her hands
idly while her forearms remained propped onto the fence. “Is
there any chance the Saxon might come here? Seeking for
revenge maybe?”, Darya then asked quietly and glanced up
sideways at the three men around her, “…because having to deal
with them and the Woads at once might be…bad…” Granted, that
was not how she had wanted to express her thoughts, but
somehow she could not come up with a better word. She was not
afraid of this worst case scenario per se…but knew that it
would cost many lives. And the losses of dear ones oddly
enough made her feel worse than the idea of her own death.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: LadyCastus
Date: Mon May 12, 2008 9:41 am
Malcus Barbattus


Lancelot
 
"All the Woads you encountered? My, that's quite a feat
for one man."


Malcus watched closely as the optio and the first knight
verbally sparred with one another. Amadeus was refined and
very good at the 'twist of the tongue' but Malcus saw right
through his facade. Amadeus was clever and was therefore very
dangerous. Malcus willed Lancelot to stand down, as he was out
of his league when it came to the mind games of the snobby
Roman. And wow, did Lancelot stink! By the looks of the man
and the dirt on his face, Malcus figured the knight hadn't had
any sleep and probably no food either since they'd arrived
back at the wall. Rule number 4 - Rest! A tired soldier is a
stupid soldier and Lancelot was walking a dangerous tightrope
with this sneaky, underhanded optio.

Finally, Arthur's door opened again. Malcus was relieved,
hoping the tension in the hallway would dissipate, although he
doubted it.

Arthur
 
Gentleman, thank you for waiting…shall we continue?


Malcus pulled up the rear, allowing all the others to file in
the room in front of him. The captain noticed his friend still
tending his left side although Arthur was the vision of
authority and control.

"Now commander, what of this issue with the woad prisoner?"
Barbattus asked with a raised eyebrow.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Mon May 12, 2008 11:05 am
Derfel


Lucius
 
"Not at all. I was there already today...infirmaries are
interesting places, are they not? There is always
something you can learn. Your friend... was he wounded
during the Woad attack?"


Derfel was glad that Lucius had no aversion to the infirmary
and thought to say something further on the subject, but had
to side step a stray black cat that suddenly darted across
their path. It was late in the morning already and more people
were milling about than earlier, likely more confident that
the threat of another attack was perhaps less eminent now. It
was still miserable weather as well…so perhaps that reason
alone kept Merlin and his warriors at bay.

“No, Dagonet was tore up in the battle we just returned from
fighting….” Derfel looked over at Lucius as they neared the
tavern on the way to the infirmary. His gaze easily gave away
his concern as he continued to explain. “….I should also tell
ya that it was my friend’s son that we were mourning earlier
when we bumped into you in the chapel there,” Derfel said
slightly gesturing with his hand back towards the chapel.

Lucius
 
"That offer with the tavern sounds very promising, you
know?"


“Aye, my friend…a strong drink and something hot to fill our
bellies…damn miserable weather…” Derfel added with a grump
even though he readily grinned over at Lucius. And then
Derfel’s new companion finally answered his inquiry about the
attacks….

Lucius
 
"Oh yes, I have an idea. They are treated like beasts,
are kicked, slapped and hurt - oh, and fed, of course."


Derfel’s eyebrows arched upwards at the unusual answer from
Lucius.

“Fed?” Derfel asked a bit surprised for a moment until he
remembered the one that Arthur had taken hostage. Perhaps she
was the one Lucius was speaking about….unless something else
had happened while the knights were off on the mission.
Lucius’ other comments about kicking and slapping was curious
though.

“Oh….that little feisty one that tried to kill the
Commander…he spared her for some reason. Unless the Optio took
some other prisoners during the attack?” Derfel somewhat
explained what he knew at least and wondered what else Lucius
could be talking about. The two men had reached the entryway
to the infirmary and Derfel led the way up the steps and
opened the door.

“I’m looking for Dagonet…tall, bald, quiet one…with a belly
wound came in yesterday,” Derfel asked a passing attendant who
knew immediately who he was looking for and pointed towards
the rear of the infirmary. The knight thanked her and headed
that way with Lucius at his side.

“Ahh…there he is…” Derfel said mostly to himself at spotting
Dagonet stretched out on one of the cots agaist the back wall.

“Dags….how ye holdin’ up?” Derfel said in a warm greeting to
his fellow knight and dear friend. He regarded the older man
for a moment, making a quick assessment that Dagonet was
indeed on the mend as the color had returned to the man’s face
and although his eyes were still filled with
sadness…physically, Dagonet looked much improved.

“This here is Lucius,” Derfel made the introduction before
taking a seat on the side of Dagonet’s bed.









Arthur

As Arthur reached the table, he turned to await the men to
file in after him. Lancelot was the first to his side….close
at hand. Their eyes met and Arthur allowed a hint of
familiarity in his green eyes; earlier outburst forgiven for
now. Lancelot’s close proximity, although the Roman did not
wish to admit it right now, was comforting. Lancelot was many
things…stubborn, impulsive, rebellious and damn near
infuriating at times…but Arthur could not do without him.

Lancelot
 
"Is it manageable? If I need to get the healer...."


“No need…I will manage,” Arthur answered as quietly as
Lancelot had inquired. Emerald eyes briefly took note of
Lancelot’s dirty face and tired eyes. Arthur would order the
other man to rest the moment this meeting was at an end…as
there was no way in Hell that Arthur would allow Lancelot to
ride out after Merlin.

Amadeus and Malcus joined them and thus that mask of strength
and honour that Arthur often wore was fully back in place
again.

Malcus
 
"Now commander, what of this issue with the woad
prisoner?"


“As I was speaking of moments ago, the ‘prisoner’ agreed to
lead us to Merlin in exchange for sparing her life,” Arthur
answered Malcus evenly and then as he had done with Linnette,
sat down on the edge of the table for a little support,
although he kept his back straight and his left hand on his
stitched up side. One bare foot slightly dangled above the
floor as Arthur shifted to somewhat slide a leather-clad thigh
over the lip of the table.

“I will gently remind her of our little agreement if you would
please bring her to me, Malcus,” Arthur offered a small wry
grin at his longtime friend; slightly tilting his head as he
explained further.

“And if she requires a firmer hand in order to ‘recall’ her
promise, then I will trust you to refresh her memory,” Arthur
added, knowing Malcus would do what was required without
outright brutality…which was not Arthur’s way. He refrained
from catching Lancelot’s eye though, knowing his First Knight
would deal with the Woad that would only leave her lifeless
and completely useless. Not that Arthur could blame
Lancelot….but the Commander still intended to keep his part of
the bargain fair man that he was. …to a fault some would say.

Now this left the matter of which of his officers Arthur would
send to negotiate with Merlin on his behalf.

“Optio Scipio, how are your diplomatic skills?” Arthur
addressed Amadeus directly; piercing green eyes fixed on the
other man’s grey. He was not only the logical choice here….but
it was also a peace offering from Arthur for Lancelot’s
earlier outburst. The Commander pressed the palm of his free
hand down on the edge of the table and ran his tongue over the
edge of his teeth while he awaited Amadeus’ answer.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Pinkie
Date: Mon May 12, 2008 3:42 pm
Drake


Linnette
 
"I know, damn it...I know."


To an onlooker this may have looked a little strange. The
little woman trying to hammer a hole in Drake's chest and he
able to stop her with barely an ounce of effort. The tendons
in his arms flexed and then relaxed when she ceased her
efforts to pummel him. He knew that useless kind of anger -
except, with men, no one really tried to stop you. In which
case you ended up black and blue, or dead because you got into
a fight with someone you had underestimated.

It was an unconscious gesture from her, but knowing her hand
was laid against the armour at his chest made Drake feel...
awkward. Not necessarily a bad awkward, but definitely an ...
awkward kind of awkward. He tried to ignore it but failed,
miserably. His green eyes looked down at her little fingers
and goosebumps rose along his arms and back, making the hairs
on the back of his neck stand on end.

Drake tried again - shutting his eyes and gritting his teeth,
even going so far as to hold his breath, just to make himself
not enjoy holding her like this, having her let him hold her
like this. It was not intimate, not really. It was her needing
comfort and Drake being the one willing to give it. He
couldn't think of it as intimate because it would imply alot
more than what Linnette envisioned for them - the way he saw
it at least.

Linnette
 
"He...the Optio... He told me I can't stay in my room.
It's needed because of the barracks. And I've got my
accounts, and Linnesse... I...I just don't know what to
do anymore,"


A burning anger bubbled up inside of Drake's throat when he
heard what it was the Optio had said to Linnette. He could see
little red dots and for a moment thought there was something
falling in front of him, when he realised it was anger it took
all of his energy to not growl. He felt the build up of
irritated pressure in his chest and went to great lengths to
just let it taper away, to let it slowly ebb from his emotions
whilst Linnette took a step back, looking down at her hands.

Her pleading eyes lifted to his. Drake's bottle green eyes had
been on her hands, the sad red streaks would be stinging he
figured. He looked up into her hazel eyes and realised that
she was looking to him for some sort of guidance! HIM!?
The Spaniard's brow furrowed immediately. He still had his
hands on her elbows, not willing to give up that contact just
yet - though one hand did lift to his bearded jaw as he
thought.

What had he done when Cecile had passed? How had he coped with
all these conflicting and demanding events and occurrences?

Brief flashes of countless hours spent slumped drunk in
countless taverns for weeks on end simmered in the back of
Drake's mind. Oh. That's right. He had lost himself in the
blissful oblivion of alcohol. But that had only added to the
hardship in the long run. And it was not the answer - he knew
that now. So what did he tell Linnette ? She needed him but he
was not good with words - or sentiments, or emotions, or
feelings, or anything like what she needed now. Why had he
thought he should follow her?! This was just making things
worse for her -

He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. In a rumbling
tone filled with the gentle authority of a man who had once
been a father, Drake gently slid his hand from Linnette's
elbow to her wrist, looking down at her scraped palms. His
smile was a twitch...

"Let's start with cleaning this up first." he offered,
"Perhaps your room. If you feel up to it - if not my room is
just ... " he gestured with a thick finger in the general
'behind' direction from where they stood now. It seemed such a
paltry, weak attempt at comforting her but he knew nothing
else. He had no magic words that would make things seem more
manageable. "One step at a time - " he said, his chin pulling
back towards his neck a moment as he used the end of his
balled up fist to brush away some of the tears from Linnette's
cheek. It didn't seem too intrusive a gesture, or
presumptuous, he thought. Had he used his one index finger
like he had been intending to it might have been a bit
different - but this gesture seemed more ... platonic to him.









Galahad

Tristan
 
"Eh...good riddance. Glad he did. Better than taking him
home,"


Well, Galahad wasn't complaining that Arthur had taken the man
down - of course not. He just wasn't so sure about how
delighted they should all be considering the man was Derfel's
father. But nonetheless, Galahad would edge around the idea,
see how others were handling it and move from there. He was
never one to set things in motion, Galahad. He was more a fan
of following what the others did. Or more precisely, Gawain.

Darya
 
“Did you bring even more…people…back here except that
Woad woman? Is there any chance the Saxon might come
here? Seeking for revenge maybe? …because having to deal
with them and the Woads at once might be…bad…”


The youngest Knight snorted in wry amusement at Darya's first
question.

"We brought no-one back alive, Darya." the Sarmatian
corrected, looking down at his stomach, touching the slight
bulge where the bandaging was that Alina had so kindly put
there. He wondered if the woman had calmed down much since he
had left, if rest had done her good, but he didn't feel brave
enough to go check right now. Pouting, the knight heaved out a
weary sigh and shrugged, looking at Tristan with narrowed blue
eyes to see what he thought about the chances of Saxons
turning up at Badon were.

"I can't imagine the woads and Saxons could find common ground
at all... The Saxons kill everything." the man said precisely,
his lips smacking on the last word, his thumb and index finger
tightly pressed together in a swift gesture to demonstrate the
brutal efficiency of the Saxon army.









Catherine

Catherine should have been smiling. She had two dresses held
tight to her chest beneath her cloak as she hurried through
the rain towards the infirmary. She had been relatively lucky
to find two dresses that would fit, though she had not been
surprised. Her mother tended to keep items, clothing and shoes
and odds and ends. For whatever reasons... this was one of
those reasons. When the whore had told her mother of the two
orpaned girls in the infirmary she had insisted that Catherine
bring them the dresses immediately, and so the other item she
had tucked away in her pouch would have to wait.

She wasn't sure if she was ever going to see Gawain again. She
didnt know if she would have the courage to approach him
either - but in case she did she was prepared. A peace
offering. It felt ... sickening to think that he was angry
with her for being what she was. Catherine aimed to please
men, not repulse and repel them.

The blonde ducked into the infirmary and looked around as she
pushed the cloak back from her head. Her hazy green eyes
spotted the two girls where they had been the night before and
she swanned down there as if she had every right. Smiling,
though her heart wasn't in it, Catherine winked at the older
girl and draped a soft hand on Fleur's shoulder.

"Hello girls - remember me?" she asked in her chiming,
sing-song voice. Pushing open her cloak, Catherine pulled the
two dresses out and laid them on the bed, "And I brought you
each a gift - a lovely dress! What do you think of this then,
hmm Fleur?" Catherine asked, lifting the smaller of the two.
Though her heart was really not in it - she was too distracted
by Sarmatians and thoughts of Knights!









Amadeus

Amadeus missed the dog asking his master if he could manage.
He would have been greatly amused, no doubt. As it was the
Optio followed Barbattus into the Commander's room, satisfied
he was getting his work done. Satisfied that he had a plan in
mind to turn events around to his benefit. Whatever the cost
he had to have Arthur's trust a little longer, just a little
bit longer. Then he would overthrow him and rid Badon Hill of
it's Sarmatian infestation.

Arthur
 
“As I was speaking of moments ago, the ‘prisoner’ agreed
to lead us to Merlin in exchange for sparing her life, I
will gently remind her of our little agreement if you
would please bring her to me, Malcus, And if she
requires a firmer hand in order to ‘recall’ her promise,
then I will trust you to refresh her memory, Optio
Scipio, how are your diplomatic skills?”


And this was it!

Amadeus was listening to Arthur with his lips pursed in
interest and intense thought. He nodded where appropriate but
otherwise kept an intense eye on Arthur and his condition. He
knew the man was injured - but not how badly. The healer
earlier had let it slip well and good that the injury was not
a minor thing. How could he use this injury against Arthur?
There seemed little honour in taking down a wounded animal, so
Amadeus could wait a while, and he could wait happily if
Arthur was truly thinking of sending him to negotiate with
Merlin.

The Optio perked up at the mention of his name - though he
tried to hide his satisfaction in being the chosen one. He
kept an awareness of Lancelot of course, watching him out of
the corner of his shrewd grey eyes.

A whisper of a smile flittered across this thin lips as he
cleared his throat, casting an idle glance at Barbattus then
back to Arthur.

"I have been told that they are exceptional, Commander. My
tutor was also the tutor of Bishop Germanius back in his
younger years. I have negotiated between councils and
divisions many-a-time." the man said non-chalantly. He was not
about to admit that he had never negotiated with an armed
enemy. He had no doubt he was capable of it though - more
capable than the cretins that surrounded him at least.

"You can trust me with this, Commander. This is why Rome sent
me." the Optio said confidently, gently tossing a bit of salt
in Lancelot's wounds, reminding all in the room, once again,
that Amadeus was chosen by Rome.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Unicorn
Date: Mon May 12, 2008 4:01 pm
Dagonet


Dagonet's body, mind and heart were so tormented that they had
no more power to produce any bad dream in his head. For which
he should be glad.... as he would not dare to wake after
seeing Gedeon or his death again.

Nothing in particular had awaken him, but with focus and
returning to awerness came pain to his side. He wanted only to
sleep now... only this brought him some little comofort. But
instead of a dream more pain came to him. The wound was
healing probably and that was why it hurted.... He really
hoped so. Because with infection he would be not so sure of
being alright again ever. His strenghts were lost there on the
battlefield and if he won't gather them now, he won't gather
them never again.

Once he awaken completely he turned his head to look on the
other side of his bed, hoping to see Saoirse siting by him.
But she was not there.... He blinked his eyes couple of
times... His eyelids still heavy and tired. He wanted to move
a little to feel his body, but those efforts made his body
ache even more. So he just was there, laying on the bed
without strengths to even stand up.

His mind returned to the conversation he had with
Saoirse...and realised once more the terror of staying alive.
The terror of facing day after a day without Gedeon and his
supportive presence. But also the future that he wanted to
look forward to. After the duty for Rome... The loving future
with Saoirse. This was too much to think off.

He closed his eyes once and allowed him one more tear to go
down his cheek, to trace his scar. Gedeon was death..... This
was the most hurtful thing he had ever expirenced in his life.

Derfel
 
“Dags….how ye holdin’ up?”


Slowly Dagonet oppened his eyes at the sound of familiar
voice. The tall knight wanted to attempt a small smile at his
friend but corners of his mouth didn't even twitch an inch.
There too much heavy weight in him to smile now. Dagonet saw
the regarding look upon Derfel's face but he choose to ignore
it, instead to look at the newcomer by the young knight.

Derfel
 
“This here is Lucius,”


Dagonet only gave the man a nod and turned his gaze upon
Derfel who sitted himself on the side of his bed.

"I felt better, my friend" he answered at Derfel's question.

He still breathed the air of unwanted reality... Still he was
alive. And still he was afraid of facing further life...
His body was hurted and it pained him much.. but the real
problem was in his mind and heart. The real pain was much more
deeper than anybody could see.

"How.... is Linnette? Did you take care of her?" he asked with
concern and a little tremble of emotions in his voice. It
should be him taking care of her, not anybody else.

In the moment he wanted to speak further pain grasped his body
a little tighter and he had to close his with a silent wince
to overcome this. He hated to show these kind of weakness in
front of anybody, but he could not help it now. This was too
much to take.

"Is there Saoirse anywhere in the room?" he asked oppening his
eyes slowly again. He needed her so much... only to look upon
her made him a little calmer, or he thought it would.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Mon May 12, 2008 4:08 pm
Ione


She finished pampering herself which she felt she needed after
all that had happened, and redressed, then took her long
auburn hair and loosly braided it so that it hung over one
shoulder. Ione's stomach rumbled, but nothing really sounded
good, and the only things that sounded good were things she
did not normally eat. Looking about the room once more, Ione
left it feeling that if she took a walk in the fresh cold
morning air, it'd give her an appitite. She grabbed her heavy
cloak she had made herself last Autumn, and flung it over her
shoulders. Ione felt a bit closed in and needed to get out and
think...

...She opened the door, stepped out then closed and locked it
securely behind her. Ione stopped and took a deep breath of
the morning air even though it was raining, it felt good to be
outside. The young weaver began to walk...where to? She didn't
know, but perhaps she'd run into her friends she had not
talked to since she had been back. Sometimes one just needed a
friend to talk to and share a good laugh...
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Lancelot
Date: Mon May 12, 2008 6:34 pm

Lancelot


Arthur
 
“No need…I will manage."


Lancelot dropped the hand he'd briefly touched Arthur's elbow
with, and his arrow-shot arm twinged as he did so. He nodded
at Arthur as his face pinched, but he merely sucked in a
breath and ignored his arm. He'd had much worse, and the
bandaging Neeve had done was keeping it nice and trouble free.
Until Lancelot got to the baths, and got a chance to actually
examine it in private, he'd pretend it wasn't there.

Barbattus asked the question Lancelot had about the Woad girl,
and Arthur, sitting on his table, answered in a way that had
Lancelot wanting to groan and sink his head into his hands.

Arthur
 
“As I was speaking of moments ago, the ‘prisoner’ agreed
to lead us to Merlin in exchange for sparing her life. I
will gently remind her of our little agreement if you
would please bring her to me, Malcus. And if she
requires a firmer hand in order to ‘recall’ her promise,
then I will trust you to refresh her memory,”


Should have killed the damn scrawny blue thing the second
Arthur had his back turned.

Malcus of course would do what Arthur asked - as would have
Lancelot. And in some small way, the Sarmatian knew Arthur was
right in choosing his old friend to retrieve the girl. She
would definitely end up in Arthur's quarters alive this way.

But what was the commander going to do about...

Arthur and Amadeus
 
“Optio Scipio, how are your diplomatic skills?”

"I have been told that they are exceptional, Commander.  My tutor was also the tutor of Bishop Germanius back in his younger years. I have negotiated between councils and divisions many-a-time. You can trust me with this, Commander. This is why Rome sent me."


Because Arthur's barbarian dog couldn't negotiate the way Rome
wished? Lancelot's rage reared its head again, but he canted
his eyes from Arthur to Amadeus, and slumped into a free
chair. Why bother? Why let things get to him that he could not
change? And perhaps if Arthur sent this other Roman to the
Magician, perhaps...send a fool on a foolish errand.

Perhaps...Rome wouldn't send another Optio if something
happened to this one. Lancelot of course would have nothing to
do with that - but if luck smiled on him -

a frown creased his face and he crossed one lean leg over the
other, his leathers squeaking as he moved. By the gods, he was
tired. And if he was tired, imagine how Arthur - Gawain - Dags
- even the pup - the others that had been injured must be as
wavering as he himself was.

"Watch that girl, Barbattus," Lancelot sighed. "She's -
bitey."
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: LadyCastus
Date: Mon May 12, 2008 7:46 pm
Malcus Barbattus


Arthur
 
As I was speaking of moments ago, the ‘prisoner’ agreed
to lead us to Merlin in exchange for sparing her life


Malcus looked at Arthur and let the information sink in
slowly. The captain wasn’t buying one single word of this tale
about a turning in Merlin. He’d sooner believe pigs would
sprout wings and fly than to fall for that one. But friend or
not, Arthur was Malcus’ superior officer and he would never
question his authority in front of others. Particularly the
sneaky optio. Malcus stole a glance at the smarmy man and
involuntarily pursed his lips as though he smelled something
bad.

Arthur
 
I will gently remind her of our little agreement if you
would please bring her to me, Malcus. And if she
requires a firmer hand in order to ‘recall’ her promise,
then I will trust you to refresh her memory.


“Of course commander, it will be done as you wish. But I’m
sure a firm hand will not be necessary. I handled her myself
last night and she’s a whipped dog. Unfortunately I had the
task of punishing a guard for trying to take her forcefully.
I’m sure I acted on your behalf in inflicting my own form of
justice for his dishonor of duty.”

Malcus was confident that he would handle the woad woman
without incident. He was still slightly unnerved that the
younger woad had gotten close enough to him to actually
brandish his own weapon, but he assured himself that would
never happen again.

Arthur and Amadeus
 
Optio Scipio, how are your diplomatic skills?

"I have been told that they are exceptional, Commander.  My tutor was also the tutor of Bishop Germanius back in his younger years. I have negotiated between councils and divisions many-a-time."


“Germanius?” Malcus bellowed. what a frog!! The captain
composed himself quickly. Germanius was the steaming cow turd
that Malcus had the misfortune of running into on a few
occasions. Barbattus was starting to realize why he didn’t
take very well to the optio. Germanius was everything Roman
that Barbattus hated. The captain turned his attention back to
Arthur.

“If you don’t require anything further from me, I’ll retrieve
the girl now, commander.”

Lancelot
 
Watch that girl, Barbattus.  She's - bitey.


Malcus, knowing Lancelot was a tease and trying to lighten his
mood a bit, knitted his brow and gave a sinister grin, “ah,
yes my dark friend, but unbeknownst to her, I bite back.”

With a slight bow, Malcus turned toward the door to go
retrieve the prisoner.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Mon May 12, 2008 7:55 pm
Tristan


Darya
 
“Did you bring even more…people…back here except that
Woad woman? Is there any chance the Saxons might come
here? Seeking for revenge maybe? Because having to deal
with them and the Woads at once might be…bad…”


Galahad
 
"We brought no-one back alive, Darya. I can't imagine
the Woads and Saxons could find common ground at
all...the Saxons kill everything."


"Hhmmmhph." That grunt from Tristan was one of grim agreement,
as he detached himself from the fence with a small push and
went forward to idly stroke Tirtgatao's coat again. Nice and
smooth- a fine horse indeed, and none the worse for his
experiences in battle. Listening with half an ear to the rest
of the conversation, but not looking at any of the other three
for the moment, Tristan bent to examine the animal's hooves,
looking over the first one in detail and also noticing how
calm Tirgatao was, even though this was a rather unusual time
and place to be looking at his hooves. Very promising...very
promising indeed.










Linnette and Linnesse

Drake
 
"Let's start with cleaning this up first. Perhaps your
room. If you feel up to it- if not my room is just...one
step at a time- "


"Yours. I don't think there's any water in mine," Linnette
murmurred in response to his offer, her eyes still on her
scraped hands, which stung fiercely now. How could she have
done that to herself- caused so much pain without even
realizing it, or even thinking it was a good thing? It was
like she had been mad, completely crazy, and now it was fading
away, leaving only confused memories and physical marks. And
exhaustion. And still too much to do. But...one step at a
time. And cleaning up her hands was as good a place as any to
start.

Sighing with something like resignation, she dropped her arms
and raised her head a little- and at that minute, Drake's hand
came out, incongruously balled into a fist, and carefully
brushed some of the tears off of her cheek. With the side of
his fist. It was such an odd gesture, so unexpected, in its
method, at least, that Linnette could not help but crack a
tiny hint of an amused smile. Just a twitch upwards of one
corner of her mouth- but it was there. It felt odd to smile-
but not bad.

They turned and walked in the direction Drake had indicated as
the way to his room, Linnette staying half a step behind, as
she did not know where they were going. It became clear,
though, after short time, that they were going to pass
Linnesse and Derfel's room, and as they did so, Linnette held
up her hand to Drake, indicating that they should stop for a
moment. One thing, perhaps, from her list of worries, she
could satisfy now.

And it turned out that there was indeed one sigh of relief
that Linnette could safely make. On carefully, very quietly,
pushing open the door of Linnesse's quarters, Linnette was
heartened to see her sister asleep on the bed, sound asleep,
well tucked into the blankets, with the fire crackling softly
and a full glass of water beside her on the bed table. That
was good- one less thing to worry about for now.

"She's asleep," Linnette murmurred by way of explanation as
she shut the door again and turned back to Drake, gesturing
for him once more to lead the way. It was only a short way
more down the corridor- to the second-to-the-last door on this
side- and then Drake was pushing down the latch and opening
what was apparently the entrance to his room. Linnette hung
back a little, waiting for him to enter first- she felt a
certain reluctance to broach his private space, even for such
a utilitarian purpose as they intended. Perhaps because Drake
seemed to be such a very private person- in any case, Linnette
hesitated back in the hallway, peering around the doorpost for
a beat and waiting for some small, visible sign that she shoud
come in.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: sabor ice
Date: Mon May 12, 2008 10:55 pm

Cassidy & Fleur


Time passed, as did people - none of whom paid much mind to
two lone little girls. But, why would they be noticed? They
were nobody's children, nobody's responsibility. Had it not
been for the charity of a few strangers, they might've been
dead, but what if they would've been better off? They were
forgotten. Even this God whose righteous words their mother
had fed Cassidy seemed to have abandoned her, and her sister.
If God was so good, then how could he abandon children, how
could he let children be abandoned? There was no truth left
for Cassidy to believe in anymore. She had been nothing but
lied to. Everything was a lie.

Catherine
 
"Hello girls - remember me? And I brought you each a
gift - a lovely dress! What do you think of this then,
hmm Fleur?"


Yes, even Catherine's warm sincerity and generosity was a lie.
To Cassidy at least. Another person to pity the unfortunate
circumstances she and her sister were forced to live under.
Fleur was already excited by Catherine's gift, wrestling to
shimmy out of her make-shift dress in order to don on her new
one. She just didn't know any better, Cassidy decided. Fleur
was blinded with fancies of princesses and butterflies and
cake - she wasn't mature enough to comprehend Catherine's act
of good-will as a charitable ploy like Cassidy did. Did people
think she was dim-witted? Or did they just enjoy throwing salt
onto her wounds, rubbing it in that she and her sister had
nothing?

Rage boiled beneath the twelve year old's stoic exterior,
fueling the rebellious side of her out of submission. She
thoughtlessly retrieved a bowl of cold, half-eaten soup from
the nightstand and slopped it over the dress meant for her.
Fleur gave a start at her sister's surprising and somewhat
terrifying reaction, her blue eyes widening in shock and
incomprehension, as she instinctively jumped down off of the
bed and clung to Catherine's waist.

"We don't need your help," Cassidy spat scornfully at the
blonde whore, her youthful face screwed up into a scowl.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Pinkie
Date: Tue May 13, 2008 3:10 am
Drake


Linnette
 
"Yours. I don't think there's any water in mine,"


Damn.

Drake knew what his room looked like right this minute. It
looked abandonned because ... it was. All of his possessions
were in the saddlebags thrown against a wall back down the
hall. Would it be obvious to Linnette that he had been
leaving? Would he be able to fob it off perhaps? He had just
been moved to the room afterall, due to the barracks disaster
too. But still, the bed didn't even have a sheet on it - it
was just a miserable, thin straw mattress, evident because of
the twigs of straw sticking out!

The Spaniard nodded his head solemnly at Linnette and gestured
for her to walk on ahead, he would escort her the right way.
However, as he deftly brushed her cheek like a father might a
child's, Linnette's lips twitched upwards. Almost a smile, but
not quite. The soldier watched her mouth a little longer than
was necessary, just to see if she would make that final dive
and smile truly. But it was too much to expect when such
heartache was so fresh.

They set off down the corridor. It felt odd to be bringing a
woman to his room. He didn't like people being in his space
even though there was nothing in it to say it was his. Drake
managed to get most of the way to his room without looking
back over his shoulder to see how the small woman fared. His boots sounded heavy and resounding in the corridors which were emptying now as men went about their business outside the fortress. Rebuilding the barracks no doubt.

When Linnette lifted her hand, Drake heard the rustle of her
dress, and whipped his head around in alarm. He saw her hand
lifted and looked behind her, behind him, then realised what
was going on. She gestured to the door and he visibly relaxed.
Oh. That was all. The Spaniard's jaw tensed - and as Linnette
peeked in the door, he shut his eyes, composing himself,
making himself promise not to be so on edge. She was small,
she was fragile, but she was not about to shatter into a
thousand pieces right there in front of him. She was not going
to combust if he took his eyes off of her for two minutes. She
was not going to end up with her limbs hacked and her stomach
torn ...

Linnette
 
"She's asleep,"


Drake looked down at Linnette and gave her a slight nod. He
appreciated her interrupting his list of all the things that
weren't going to happen to her. He was surely losing his mind
now, to think that Linnette could somehow end up like
Cecile...

Squaring his shoulders, Drake led the rest of the way to his
room. He pushed up the latch and walked inside, flinching at
the echo of his boots in the tiny, empty room. With a wry
grin, he looked around and realised that, even when his things
had been in here it had looked rather like this. Empty. He
walked over to the wash-stand and took the towel that was
draped there. Removing his cloak with one hand, he tossed the
water he had used that morning out the window with the other.
He put the cloak on the bed messily and refilled the little
cracked bowl with what was left in the pitcher before
realising that Linnette had not come in.

Drake looked over his shoulder first, then took a step back to
see around the half cracked door to where Linnette stood,
craning her neck. He lifted his eyebrows and turned to face
her, the bowl of water in one large hand, the towel hanging
from his clutched fingers beneath it. He gave a tense smile,
feeling awkward, and gestured with his bandaged hand towards
the room.

"Come in." he said in a rumbling tone of voice. When she did
step into the room, Drake walked over behind her, giving the
door a bit of a kick to keep it half cracked. It didn't seem
right to be in his bedroom alone with a recently widowed woman
and have the door shut. He walked back to the bed and put the
bowl down on the little table beside it. There were no chairs
in the room - just the bed, the washstand, nightstand and the
worm-eaten clothes chest at the foot of the bed.

Clearing his throat, Drake put the cloth into the water adn
stood back... frowned, and came forward again. He had been
going to let Linnette do it herself but with her two hands
injured that would prove difficult.

Tensing his jaw, Drake glanced into her hazel eyes a moment -

"This ok?" he asked, taking up the cloth, making sure that she
was ok with him doing the cleaning before laying his hand on
her. His heart was invisibly thudding hard in his chest. There
was something unspeakable to him about Linnette's hands - he
had noted that at their very first meeting, how soft her hands
were, how small. It was those hands that reminded him of his
wife, that had reminded him he had had good times with Cecile,
that had made him remember her as more than a bleeding
half-corpse on a bed. And now he was going to have ... hold
those hands whilst moppng up the little abrasions there.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Eledhwen
Date: Tue May 13, 2008 11:09 am
Bors


Bors watched the exchange between Darya and the young knight,
noting with amusement Tristan's involvement, or lack of it.
Bors' leg was killing him, and all he wanted to do at that
minute was lie down and rest... maybe have Vanora give him a
massage... He smirked at the thought, closing his eyes for a
moment at the memory of the night before.

Still life in the old dog yet... he chuckled to himself,
before lifting himself carefully off the fence to the ground
so as not to give away any tell-tale signs of his injury.

"Well," he grumbled good-naturedly, "we can't all stand around
all day gossiping like a load of ol' women."

Turning away from the small group, he bit his lip and frowned
as he concentrated on walking without a limp.

"I'll see ya later," he raised a hand in farewell. "I might
letcha beat me at a round of knife throwing in the tavern
Tris!"

He grinned at the thought of the expression on the dark man's
face, and walked stiff-backed back out into the rain, intent
on finding somewhere quiet to nash his teeth in peace.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Kay
Date: Tue May 13, 2008 11:24 am
Guinevere


Guinevere strode through the trees, toward the clearing where
the Woads had set up camp. One solitary tent remained and the
sound of raucous singing was coming from just behind it.
The Woad princess approached the tent and peered inside; it
was empty. She walked around to the back of the canvas
structure and there were the five men that her father had left
behind to assist the rescue plan; they were drunk.

"Ish the prin..the prin..G'vere" one of them slurred, raising
his wine skin in salute. "Ish the job done then?"

One of the men staggered toward her, his arms outstretched.
"Gissakiss darlin'" he cried.

Guinevere felt the rage building inside her and her hand
instinctively went to the sword at her waist.

"C'mon" he insisted and made a clumsy grab for her.

The ring of metal against metal sounded through the air as
Guinevere drew her sword and with a single swing, removed the
drunken man's head. It hit the floor in a spray of blood and
the remaining men suddenly went quiet.

"How dare you!" she raged. "Drunk when you should be alert and
awaiting your orders! My father will not be best pleased with
you"

Guinevere fetched a length of rope from the tent and trussed
up the men, who were too insensible to resist. In fact, they
seemed to think it some kind of game.

"I will come back for you!" she spat, she turned on her heel
and walked swiftly away, suddenly aware that her face, and the
front of her disguise were splattered with the dead man's
blood.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Go to Next Page
« Previous Topic · Vincit Omnia Veritas · Next Topic »
Add Reply

Christmas Theme made by Pandorasaurus of Zathyus Network Resources and Graphic Force.