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June 2008
Topic Started: Mar 23 2010, 07:18 PM (3,689 Views)
golden_trillium

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Summary here
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golden_trillium

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Author: Kay
Date: Sun Jun 01, 2008 3:06 am
Guinevere


Mona
 
“Guinevere! It’s Ash! Ash! Where are they? Have you
found them yet?”


Guinevere groaned inwardly as Mona suddenly began to shout out
after Ash. She was about to silence the girl, when Ash did it
for her, pinning the foolish Woad to the wall and clamping his
hand over her mouth. Thank the gods that they had not been
heard.

Ash
 
"Clearly you are either completely incompetent, Mona, or
purposely trying to sabotage this mission. Don't make me
regret not tying you up and gagging you this very
moment."


Oh, please do Guinevere thought. Much as she disliked Ash, at
least he had some sense; how Mona had survived this long when
she so clearly lacked any common sense, was a miracle to the
Woad princess.

Ash
 
"Neeria was being led in that direction. She had only
one guard with her that I could see. She is your
responsibility now. I suggest you use Guinevere's
knowledge of the fort to your advantage. Fetch her
quickly and get out. I will collect Eala and bring her
to safety tonight. I fear tomorrow will be too late. For
all of us


Guinevere glanced in the direction that Ash had indicated.
They were heading to the stables. Why would they being going
there? The cold hand of fear closed around her heart. Was Mona
right after all? Was Neeria going to lead the Romans to her
father? She immediately shook off the notion. There must be
some other explanation.

"Good luck then" she said to Ash, then turned to Mona. "We
have to hurry. I hope that I can trust you not to do anything
foolish, as you did just now. Our lives depend on how you
conduct yourself, Mona"

Guinevere readjusted her disguise, so that most of her face
was hidden beneath the tattered cloth, and seizing the foolish
girl's hand, Guinevere began to drag her in the direction of
the stables; her mouth was set in a line of grim determination
and she stared straight ahead, hoping that no one would dare
to challenge her; hoping that to all around she would appear
to be merely an inhabitant of the fortress and that she was a
woman in an obvious hurry.
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golden_trillium

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Author: golden_trillium
Date: Sun Jun 01, 2008 7:28 am
Tristan


Malcus
 
“Oy, mate, I see you got the message to meet us here. In
case you’re wondering why you’ve been asked to join this
little party, I’ll go ahead and fill you in. Arthur was
injured pretty badly. No worries though, he’ll be okay
but he’s in no condition to ride. So, he’s ordered that
rat bastard Amadeus to ride in his place."


Tristan shifted uncomfortably, his eyes straying once again
over to Neeria, then back to Barbattus. He didn't necessarily
disagree with Barbattus's assessment of the Optio, but to
bad-mouth him like that right in front of the prisoner, who
was surely watching for any sign of any situation she could
exploit to her advantage? At least, Tristan would be doing the
same in her place. Neeria continued to walk along at
Barbattus's side quietly enough, but Tristan wasn't satisfied
that she was really a traitor to her people...oh, no. However,
the scout's caution and unease seemed to be lost on Barbattus,
who babbled on as he so often did, with no reduction in his
vitriol against the Optio, as he ushered the Woad woman into
the stables and Tristan followed.

Malcus
 
"And since he doesn’t trust the little fucker any
farther than he can throw him, he is sending me to keep
an eye on him. Of course, for my commander and for my
friend, I accepted my orders gladly. Besides, how could
I turn down an opportunity to size up the smarmy Optio?
So why are you involved? You’re involved because this
lovely maiden here requested your presence. She told
Arthur that she wouldn’t ride without you. So our
commander indulged the lady."


Neeria
 
“Tris-tan, what he says is true. You are the only one I
trust.”


What? Tristan's gaze flew sharply back to Neeria, his eyebrows
raised and his mouth slighly open, before he controlled his
aghast expression with a hard swallow and looked firmly away,
trying to recover himself. She trusted him? Impossible! He had
done nothing to make her trust him- nothing to make her think
he was anything but an enemy. That stupid blanket, that didn't
signify. It was nothing. Already she had been given medical
treatment and clothes, far more than Tristan had done for her,
and yet she didn't profess to idolize those people, did she?
It was a trick- a damn Woad trick, and she had somehow picked
Tristan for a fool, a gullible one who might aid in her
escape, or whatever else she planned to do.

Well, Tristan wasn't a fool. He would keep an even closer eye
on her now, and one false move and she'd get a dagger between
her ribs.

"I don't trust you," he muttered, shooting her another sharp,
but almost fearful, glance, before moving off down the row of
stalls where Tirgatao was kept. It wasn't far, fortunately. He
pulled the saddle from its place and got started getting the
horse ready to go, but he never, never, took his eyes from the
Woad prisoner for more than a fraction of a second. He watched
her, his eyes burning with the intensity of it. There was
little enough she could do while they were still in the fort,
he thought- but she might think of something. In fact, Tristan
would have preferred to tie her to one of the stable pillars
while he and Barbattus got their horses ready- but the Captain
had charge of her, and Tristan didn't want to override that.
So he just worked as quickly as possible, and watched the
woman the whole time.
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golden_trillium

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Author: lady ione
Date: Sun Jun 01, 2008 10:47 am
Vanora


One last look at Linnette, and Vanora turned and left the
young woman to her work, and her grief. There was never a cure
for sorrow, but Vanora knew that one had to at least try.
Walking back down the stairs, the redhead went through the
kitchen where the smells of lunch made her wish it was her
break time. Vanora smiled at the cooks as she left the kitchen
and went into the seating area. More folks had entered the
tavern...and at least one new one that she had never seen
before (Cael).

It had been awhile since she had seen Darya, Titrus she had
seen the other day around dinner time, Tristan had gone, and
Adian had not come back.

Wiping her hands on her apron, Vanora stepped behind the
counter and drew four ales while looking to see anyone motion
for a refill. Though she loved them a lot, Vanora was glad
that her children had all gone outside to play. Kids loved to
play in mud and rain, though bath time would await them a bit
later to warm them up...









Ione

Ione looked down at Mirtha while she knelt above him, and
thought back to how wonderful it had felt for him to be giving
her scars such affection...his tongue and his hands both. How
she had moved back so that she could feel one hand reach to
her front an tease an aroused nipple. These erotic thoughts
aroused her now as she looked down at Mirtha with a wicked
smile. His touches made her want him...to have nothing but him
all day, though eventually she'd have to open the shop later
in the evening....for now, it was she and Mirtha and the world
outside did not exist. The earlier memory of feeling his need
for her through his breeches had made him stop tending to her
scars and take a deep breath...the feel of his breath on her
skin. hearing his pants drop to the floor, and the feel of raw
power as her hands made contact with his skin...

It was vague how they had made it to the bed...but the taste
of his sweaty skin as she had licked her way up his legs to
straddle his thighs. Kneeling over his length now, Ione looked
down at the toned well muscled body and wondered just
where...if she touched him right...would bring fourth a moan
of need for her. Smiling at Mirtha, Ione began to lightly
touch his chest. She lowered her slender body onto his upper
legs just shy of his length, then ran light touches over his
chest, stomach, then to the base of him...all the while
watching to see his reactions to what she was doing. Mirtha
was so hard, but as much as she wanted him, Ione wanted him to
want her so much that he'd beg for her...or vice versa if it
came to that. Around the base of his length her fingers
went...Then she moved them back up to his chest.

Mirtha
 
"Slowly...." "Lay down beside me, Ione... We have time."


His voice was bearly a whisper as one hand went to her waist
long auburn hair running his fingers through the soft strands,
while his other hand remained on her hip. Laughing softly,
Ione moved off of him and rolled back onto the bed. Her hands
moved above her head causing her aroused breasts to firm up a
bit more knowing that if Mirtha decided to tease them, the
feeling would be enhanced. Ione's long hair framed her upper
body in a soft wavey frame. The young weaver turned her head
to look at the man who's skin touched hers, and licked her
parted lips temptingly. The one thing Ione loved was the
elemment of surprise and she wondered what Mirtha had in mind.
'Aye, we do have time...' The look in his eyes as they met
hers made her lick her tongue over her lips...
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golden_trillium

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Author: Unicorn
Date: Sun Jun 01, 2008 12:04 pm
Dagonet


Dagonet liked Jols... Always straight to the point, always
around and everybody could always count on him. On their
missions it was Jols to keep the supplies and everything in
order. He was a good man... honest and hard working.

Jols
 
"I'm not exactly sure just how Arthur is. I've been busy
with other tasks after we parted company. I was thinking
about asking Lancelot himself how he was, but he left
too quickly for me to ask about him, myself, otherwise I
would have."


Wounded knight listened with concern in his eyes. How was
Arthur feeling? Was he seriously wounded? Should he not be
here, if so? Lancelot should know. He was the one closest to
the commander... He would not leave his side if Arthur was
feeling really bad. And so the mere words from Jols that
Lancelot left the commander for the time being were positive
and brought some kind of reliefe into Dagonet's heart.
He nodded silently looking away from Jols, his face deep in
thoughts... a big pang of guilt hit him again. He should be
there to look over Arthur... to look over Bors.. to look over
them all... He looked around quietly... and where was Saoirse?
He feared for her also.

Jols
 
"Have you been sleeping ok?"


He looked back at Jols... his expression of face emotionless.
There was a slight movement of corners of his mouth but
nothing more.

"Aye... Good enough" he informed his friend. "What is the news
of the Woads? Do you know anything?" he wanted to keep the
conversation going as he felt tired himself and he did not
want to fell back into sleep... He did not want to give up
once more.
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golden_trillium

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Author: Starbelle
Date: Sun Jun 01, 2008 5:21 pm
Jols


Dagonet
 
"What is the news of the Woads? Do you know anything?"


"Everything's quiet on the outside, thank goodness.
I heard that we're keeping an extra supply of archers to
switch off with the ones that are already there, to keep them
off-guard. We managed to capture two of them, both girls, I think. "
Jols replied.

"Lancelot'll be better able to fill you in on the details
regarding the woads much better than I can regarding them as
I'm not sure what happened and don't want to give you any
wrong or incorrect information." The squire said an honest
tone in his voice.

"Both your saddle and weapons have been fixed, repaired, as
well as sharpened. Your horse has been brushed down and taken
care of as well and is relaxing in his stall with a full bale
of hay in his feed bin to eat." Jols said bringing Dags up to
date on everything else.
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golden_trillium

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Author: Lancelot
Date: Sun Jun 01, 2008 6:13 pm
Lancelot


Lancelot continued his hasty walk across the courtyard, but
stopped short as he passed by the stables, and noticed Tristan
- who was there with Barbattus and the Woad girl. He didn't
see the Optio, which meant one of two things.

One, the other man was on his way to meet the group that was
traveling to see Merlin. Or, and this was the scenario
Lancelot hoped wasn't the case, two, he was still ensconced
with Arthur.

Damn it. Should he go on to Arthur's quarters - and risk
running into the man he'd almost punched - or wait a bit, and
hope he'd see Scipio when he arrived at the stables?

Lancelot's back felt naked without his blades, and his anger
surged up again at his stupidity. Leaving your means of life
behind. Oh, well done, Lancelot.

Tristan and the others disappeared inside the stables, and
that made up Lancelot's mind for him. Moving off toward his
original goal, he slopped the rest of the way through the rain
to the quarters building, and pausing briefly at the entryway
to shake like a dog - he snorted at the imagery; no doubt some
of the Roman officers would enjoy it - he strode purposefully
to Arthur's door.

He ran his hands through his wet hair, slicking it back and
exposing his face. He hoped the rain had washed some of the
grime off - if only to keep up his normal fierce appearance.
He'd hate to see Scipio again and not look like his barbarian
self.

Wetting his lips, he smiled to himself at the thought of
invading the Optio's space once again - now, Lancelot, give
the man the benefit of the doubt - and knocked at Arthur's
door. He thought it might be the first time he'd ever not just
entered; the commander should consider himself complemented.

What if Darya was inside?

He squeezed the ends of his wet hair again and waited for
Arthur to call out.
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golden_trillium

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Author: LadyCastus
Date: Sun Jun 01, 2008 8:11 pm
Malcus Barbattus and Neeria


Tristan
 
I don't trust you


Neeria didn’t blink when Tristan spoke to her. She just
watched him, her dark eyes locked onto his golden glare. The
woad didn’t expect trust from him. His trust didn’t matter.
Not yet. Neeria needed him to go along. Tristan’s presence
was, for some reason she did not understand, a comfort to her.
She supposed because it was as though she was looking at
Mikel. Neeria lowered her eyes as Tristan walked away to tack
his horse. She knew he’d just as soon kill her as not. Neeria
peered at the scout as he loaded up. She watched him move
effortlessly, silently, almost as a dance, his braids swinging
about his head. If she was about to die, then so be it. She
would die under her own terms, with Tristan there, where he
cared or not.

Malcus knew he shouldn’t have bad-mouthed another Roman
officer in the presence of a prisoner, but he didn’t care
about this little whelp of a girl. She’d probably be dead by
the end of the afternoon anyway, so why should he hold his
tongue? To hell with this bitch and the optio too! The captain
snorted with disgust and grabbed the prisoner by the arm.

“I don’t trust you either,” Malcus said and led Neeria down a
row of stalls. The captain stopped in front of his own horse,
Falco, who had already been saddled and appeared ready to
ride.

“Ready to ride, my good man?” Malcus greeted his mount with a
pat on the horse’s velvety nose. Falco whickered. “Good man!”
Malcus said in reply.

“I hope you can ride girl,” he said to Neeria. “If not, you’ll
either soon learn or you’ll find yourself with a broken neck.”

Neeria glared at Malcus.

“I shall not break my neck, Roman. You would not be that
lucky,” she said and rolled her eyes.

Malcus laughed. The girl had a mouth on her. If she wasn’t a
woad, he would have liked that. But she was and therefore he
didn’t.

“We need one more mount,” the captain said to the stable boy.
“It doesn’t matter which one, any old mare will do,” he
chuckled.
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golden_trillium

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Author: sabor ice
Date: Sun Jun 01, 2008 11:26 pm

Milan


Mari
 
"I .. I fell in the muck and couldn't get up - I
accidentally pulled this man in with me when he tried to
save me. Very clumsy of me ...Maybe.. maybe another
time? I can repay you for your kindness?"


While Mari explained herself, Milan side-glanced Ash with a
petulant pout of his lips. There was something completely
unsettling about the way the man assessed them, his dark eyes
enigmatic, unreadable. And although Mari seemed oblivious to
the stranger's silence, it filled Milan's ears like some eerie
void. His forehead crumpled in suspiciousness, his features
guarded, wary. Unconsciously, Milan side-stepped partially in
front of Mari, their entwined fingers behind him. The
protective gesture had been subtle, but poignant. The stranger
seemed to be amused by this, his crooked smile wicked. The
columns in Milan's neck visibly tensed as he swallowed
roughly, but his eyes flashed in warning.

Ash snickered and retreated at last, and slowly Milan turned
back to Mari, his hands on her shoulders as he studied her
face intently. She was smiling, her mood uplifted, even as she
stood there drenched head to toe and shivering. He pulled the
hood of her cloak up, his palm briefly resting against her
cheek, before he reached for her hand and led her straight to
the bathhouse.

Her purple cloak was stained with grime and soaked through and
through, the fabric seemingly even weighing her down in such
condition. Without preamble he unfastened the brooch around
her neck, stealing the cloak from around her slight form and
discarding it on a nearby bench. Her face was caked with muck,
her dark hair disarrayed, but even so Milan retrieved a clean
towel and arranged it over her head, tenderly working his
fingertips through it to help dry her wet locks.

He dipped a hand underneath the folds of the towel to cup the
side of her neck, his thumb brushing against her jawline. His
free hand gently memorized her face as his distracted blue
eyes finally locked with hers. Palpable relief flooded his
features as he looked down at her. Suddenly nothing in the
world mattered more to him in that moment than knowing Mari
was alright.
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golden_trillium

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Author: Pinkie
Date: Mon Jun 02, 2008 2:28 am
Amadeus


Arthur
 
"I thank you for trusting me with my own men, Godspeed,
Optio, Be careful - and do your best to see that this
atrocity does not occur again. I trust your judgment on
Merlin, Optio. And I will see him myself. Please - make
that plain."


Oh that was a sarcastic note was it not?

Amadeus did not react to Arthur's words though it was on his
lips to tell the Commander that 'his own men', were in fact,
Rome's men. They served the Empire, not Arthur Castus. They
were there for Rome, not for Arthur Castus. Arthur Castus was
crossing a line in claiming the men as his alone for they
should have been broken and re-trained to obey any superior
officer.. not just Castus.

However, the Optio let it slide, favouring the thoughts of
getting out into the wild to meet with Merlin.

He bowed his head as he walked to the door, his head cocked as
he listened to Arthur's orders. When he came to the door he
turned to give Arthur a curt nod of his head, appearing to be
the epitome of goodly Roman loyalty when deep inside he was
determined to put an end to these ridiculous 'truces' that
Arthur seemed intent on creating. He would not treat with the
woads - he would threaten them.

"Certainly, Commander." he intoned with oozing sincerity
before turning and walking away. The door shut behind him and
only then did a slow, cocky grin spread beneath his sharp
nose. Amadeus' grey eyes brightened and he made a turn that
was not leading him towards his own room to ready himself.
Instead he sought out Mordred. A man to ride by his side - a
man that he trusted. Not Captain Bloody Barbattus who was so
far under ARthur's thumb it was hard to see where one man
began and the other ended.

Rapping his knuckles against Mordred's door, Amadeus waited
for the man to call out before entering. He pushed open the door and the wicked grin was still in situ as
he met Mordred's burning eyes.

"Lord Mordred -- Arthur has put me at the head of a mission to
treat with the woads," the scorn was obvious, "and I would
like for you to accompany me." the Optio said, his face set in
such a way that it was obvious that he had ill intentions.









Galahad

Challenged, Galahad would have declared that his answer to
Lavinia's prying had not been over-reacting. Challenged,
Galahad would deny that he was upset about anything other than
the weather. He stood his ground looking young and petulant,
wary of the looks upon him from Lavinia and even Gawain. He
cast a cautious look up to his blonde friend and shrugged,
dismissing his silent query.

Jols came trundling in past them and Galahad was distracted
enough by his own troubles not to realise that he had been
allowed down to Dagonet - it was only when Gawain spoke up
that the young knight gave a scoff of irritation --

Gawain & Mother Lavinia
 
“Why is it alright for Jols to go wherever he wants, while Galahad and I get tossed out?”

“I’ll deal with Jols as soon as I’m done with you two.  And besides, he is quieter, far better groomed, and less prone to drunkenness than you, So did Alina take care of your wound, or do you need someone here to check it for you and patch you up?”


The knight glanced up at Gawain with both suspicion and
curiosity when he heard that Gawain had been in there drunk.
And not only that he had been caught by Lavinia. Why had he
been drunk in the infirmary? Didn't he spend the night with
Brianna ... 'catching up'? That made Galahad's cheeks begin to
burn as he thought about how little 'catching up' he and Alina
had done. And now he couldn't help wonder why...

He wasn't aware that Lavinia had addressed him, nor that he
was under her intense scrutiny until Gawain looked at him, his
brow creased in worry. Galahad's head whipped around, his blue
eyes piercing as he looked at Lavinia and then back at Gawain.

"What?" he murmured, looking slightly bewildered until he
realised Lavinia had addressed him, specifically. "Oh - oh
that? Yes she did tend to it. It's just a scratch in any
case." he lied, waving his slender hand and then clamped it
onto Gawain's elbow discreetly. "Uh - thanks. We'll be off
then. Gawain?" Galahad said, wanting to get the knight to
himself to find out why he had been drunk in the infirmary and
yes, now that he thought about it, where was Brianna?
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golden_trillium

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Author: SarmatianKnight
Date: Mon Jun 02, 2008 12:05 pm

Lucius


Lucius was too taken aback of her statement being in Dagonet's
bed to recognise the puzzled look Saoirse gave him. He knew
that people not always waited with intimacies until they were
married. He did not care, really because personally he had no
doubt that a ring had nothing to do with deep and honest love.
It was just not his cup of tea because he wanted (if ever)
make things official and real and moralic and respectable. But
while he had been sure to marry one day and have a family
everything had changed during the last months. No, what
shocked him was the place these two had chosen to share their
love. The idea that Saoirse meant what she said, just sharing
the bed with the injured man without anything going to happen,
never popped up in his head. But what he caught was her grin.
Her very wicked grin and he raised an eyebrow, finally getting
the idea that he had been so wrong with his thoughts. Great.
Again. Making a fool out of himself. He decided to ignore the
fact and just let the embarrassing topic go.

When he saw the woman's expression changed when she heard his
full name he made a mental note to finally stop that
behaviour. It was odd, now as he was nothing mroe than just a
mere soldier, spending time with people who (mostly) had not
ever left their home country, not even their village. Somehow
she did not look all to happy when he offered to go and get
her anything - or was that just his imagination, reading
things into situations that were not existing? He just wanted
to repeat his offer when she answered.

Saoirse
 
"Nah. Not unless yer good a' bringin' people back from
the dead...?"


And this was certainly not the answer he had expected or he
had hoped to get. Why not just a ordinary mug with water, a
boring piece of clean cloth to wipe away the shed tears or a
most missed comb to rearrange her wonderful red flames of
hair. He was more than happy that she focused on the ceiling
again as his expression went from caring to pure darkness when
he found himself reminded of a past he wanted to forget. "No,
unfortunately not." was all he answered in a more or less
neutral tone but someone who listened carefully might have
heard a hint of anger behind his words. While Saoirse looked
up at the ceiling Lucius looked down and focused on the ground
at his feet to make sure that she would not recognise his
expression by chance. He could feel the coldness and the
darkness welling up deep inside him and both, coldness and
darkness, were very private and not meant for anyone else than
Lucius himself.

Saoirse
 
"Have ye family, Lucius?"


The Roman was grateful for the distraction when Saoirse stood
- but what a distraction it was. He struggled to get onto his
feet as well to offer her a helping hand when he saw her body
shaking. He offered her a smile. "No. No family." The answer
came without hesitation. "A Roman cohort found me at their
burnt down campfire in the morning. The Roman army is my
family." he offered an explanation. It was a pure lie but who
cared? It always worked and explained everything, and the
things he did not want to tell. It was just perfect. And NOW
was the perfect time to change the direction of the
conversation. "What about you? I know... Dagonet. But you do
not sound like being from Britain?" The fact that she had
raised to her feet implied that she was ready to leave, at
least to Lucius. So he opened the door for her and waited.
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golden_trillium

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Author: Unicorn
Date: Mon Jun 02, 2008 1:56 pm
Dagonet


Jols
 
"Everything's quiet on the outside, thank goodness.
I heard that we're keeping an extra supply of archers to
switch off with the ones that are already there, to keep
them off-guard. We managed to capture two of them, both girls, I think.


Dagonet listened to the man as he knew that Jols had some
certain information... close to Arthur and being around the
place. The fortress had to be a busy and very dangeraus place
now. Everybody should stand for alert now... Dagonet hated
that he had to be here, in the infirmary, again helpless
against the situation. Merlin had the perfect moment to attack
the fort. Arthur and Sarmatians with most of the soldiers away
on the battle mission. At the mention of capturing the two
Woads... girls, he frowned slightly. Maybe they would provide
some informations to end this confrontantion, but maybe not
enough.

Jols
 
"Lancelot'll be better able to fill you in on the
details regarding the woads much better than I can
regarding them as I'm not sure what happened and don't
want to give you any wrong or incorrect information."


Dagonet nodded silently at this. Sure, the first knights
should have more to say on the matter.

Jols
 
"Both your saddle and weapons have been fixed, repaired,
as well as sharpened. Your horse has been brushed down
and taken care of as well and is relaxing in his stall
with a full bale of hay in his feed bin to eat."


The information about what is happening with his horse and
weapons were most welcome. As every Sarmatian Dagonet would
take care of his horse and weapons himself.... As every
Sarmatian knew the importance of those things. He would like
to do it himself, but right now he could not do it... And was
very thankful to Jols for being there to take the matters in
his own hands... For remembering of this.

"Thank you, Jols. Once more you saved my knightship..."

Last time he was injured he lost his axe on the battlefield...
only to find out later that Jols took it and took good care of
it, then brought back to the place where it should be.

"I don't know what we would do without you around." he was not
joking, his face serious and very straight. He meant it.
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golden_trillium

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Author: Pinkie
Date: Mon Jun 02, 2008 2:38 pm
Catherine


Catherine sat at the kitchen table in her mother's house with
the coins from Tristan on the table, the coin from Carthage
clutched in her palm. Her damp hair was plaited prettily,
hanging down the back of her slender neck and her off-white
bodice looked gleaming on her now clean body. She hadn't felt
that unclean after being with Tristan, their coupling having
been so quick, but obsessive about her hygiene, Catherine had
bathed nonetheless.

It was only now that she had tipped out the coins that she
realised he had put that other coin in... a flare of
embarrassment had led to this current state of feeling ill
over it. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate the coin - but
the fact that she had deliberately left it and he had most
deliberately put it into her pouch seemed... well, insistent.

Licking her lips, the woman placed the extra coin to one side
and pushed the rest into a jar that she placed up onto the
mantlepiece. Arland stood with a curious look on his face, a
darkness in his eyes that was his habit when he knew that his
true love had just had sold her body. Catherine was used to
these looks - she was used to his jealousy, used to his
distaste for what she did. She was also used to how it made
him look so dejected, rejected and useless because he could
not offer her anything that she wanted in life.

"Why is it such a big deal, Kitty?" he asked again, his tone
barely patient.

"Because it is far too much money, Arland. For what ...
transpired it is a ridiculous amount." Catherine said, turning
to look at him before throwing up her hand into the air in
exasperation with his inability to understand why this was
discomfiting for her. "Oh nevermind."

"Why'd you have that out?" he asked, gestuing with a jut of
his chin to the Carthage coin.

Catherine's eyes lingered on the coin for a long time, her
face softening and her finger stroking along the edge of the
table. She stood and smoothed a hand down her layered skirt,
shrugging her shoulder. She was remembering Gawain,
remembering the thrill of speaking her mind and not speaking
someone else's fantasy.

She shrugged.

Arland tsked, turning away from her.

Catherine rolled her hazy green eyes and walked up behind him,
sliding her hands about his waist and laid her head in between
his shoulder blades.

"Don't be angry with me Arland." she murmured and felt the man
practically melt within her embrace. She stepped away and
donned her cloak, twitched up the hood and readied to go back
out to work. It was still early afternoon - more men would be
about looking for what she could provide.



Catherine pushed open the door of the tavern, keeping her hood
up until she was well inside for fear of catching a cold. She
let it fall down her back and took a cursory look about the
tavern, observing who was there and who was not, looking for
familiar faces, looking for new faces. She got a disparaging
look from one of the wenches who was just walking back to the
bar, her heaving breasts almost falling out of the bodice.
Catherine rolled her green eyes at the display.

Did the woman not realise that the seduction was in the way
you moved and not with the amount of bosom you could hang out
of a top? Her own bodice was properly fitted about her slim
body, pushing her breasts upwards but not over! There was an
enticing swell with every breath she took, something she could
monitor to swell more should she catch the eye of someone.

And it looked like she already had...

Catherine's half-smile was beautiful. She turned away from the
man looking at her and took a step towards the bar before
pausing, looking over her shoulder at him and smiled. Biting
her bottom lip, Catherine moved to the side a little and then
turned, her hips swaying side to side as she walked over to
the table where the soldier was sitting eating heartily. She
placed her elbow on the table and rested her cheek against her
palm. She smiled.

"Something on your mind?" she purred seductively, shrugging
aside all her ill-thoughts of earlier regarding her lifestyle.










Mari

Was her innocence a good or bad thing?

Mari did not recognise danger. She would recognise evil in
Mordred because of what he had done to her, but she had not
learned to distrust people until they had proven their worth.
It seemed Milan was to be her saving grace in this matter, his
presence protecting her from the harsh treatment the woad had
had in mind for her. The young woman followed Milan willingly
at first, then hesitant as he removed her cloak in the baths.
He looked upset... he looked... worried.

Mari's smile faded slowly and she remained still as he put her
cloak aside, draping a towel over her wet hair to try dry it a
little. He looked so preoccuppied - Mari frowned and wondered
what she had done to upset him. He stroked the line of her jaw
and her eyes fluttered shut in pleasure, her expression
remaining pensive until his hand stilled. Her eyes opened and
she was staring right into the warm, loving depths of his blue
eyes.

"What?" she whispered, lifting her bandaged hand and laying it
gently against his wrist, her slim fingers curling about his
arm softly before sliding it up a little ways on his forearm.
His muscles were tense, the sinews strained against his pale
skin. Mari shook her head, stepping forward, bowing her head
and lifted his other hand up to her lips. She kissed his
knuckles and then nuzzled her cheek against his palm. "You
look like you've seen a ghost."
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: LadyCastus
Date: Mon Jun 02, 2008 3:56 pm
Mona


Guinevere
 
We have to hurry. I hope that I can trust you not to do
anything foolish, as you did just now. Our lives depend
on how you conduct yourself, Mona


Mona viciously snatched her hand from Guinevere and gnashed
her teeth, her blue eyes flashing. “Princess need I remind you
that I am one of your finest warriors, trained by you,
yourself? I am quite sure that I’m up to the challenge at hand
or Merlin would never have ordered me to come with you.” The
woad warrior fought to keep the sarcasm and pure hatred she
felt for Guinevere at that moment out of her voice.

Mona jerked around to give Ash a tongue lashing as well, but
he’d already scurried off to another vantage point. She would
gladly deal with him later. She rolled her eyes back around to
face Guinevere.

“I will shadow you as you make your way through the commons
toward the stables and hopefully take out anyone who threatens
to interfere,” Mona lied. She hoped Guinevere would be
recognized and murdered on the spot, saving Mona from having
to do it herself. Oh how she hated this woman who was not
befitting to call herself Merlin’s daughter.

Once again adjusting her packs, Mona separated from Guinevere
and rushed behind the shelter of the next building.












Titrus

Titrus saw her when she walked through the tavern doors. He
was eating his soup but stopped with the spoon halfway to his
mouth. She was beautiful. Of course he’d seen her before and
he knew who she was. His manhood twitched in his pants just
from looking at her. The lieutenant placed the spoon in his
mouth but suddenly lost all interest in the soup and his
hunger. The woman’s blond hair and soft features made her look
sweet and innocent. She looked….classy… much like a woman a
man would die trying to protect. Titrus shook his head,
wondering why such a lovely creature needed to sell her body
when she could have any man she wanted.

He watched her as she sat down at the bar. He couldn’t stop
staring at her – the way her hair fell down her back, the glow
that seemed to be about her - that was until she turned around
and looked right at him staring at her. Embarrassed, Titrus
looked away quickly, suddenly captivated by the vegetables
lying in the bottom of his soup bowl. When he looked up again,
she was headed his way. He got so nervous, his erection
deflated immediately. She was coming his way! God in heaven,
what would he say, ‘let’s fuck?’ He shuddered at the very
thought. It hardly seemed appropriate to say something so
brazen and it certainly was not his style at all. The woman
had made her way over to his table. Titrus looked over his
shoulder, then back at the beauty, making sure she was looking
at him.

Catherine
 
Something on your mind?


Oh my God! Titrus yelled in his head. He felt his cheeks burn
with the heat of his embarrassment. He looked up at the woman,
only glancing at her really, then darting his eyes about the
tavern nervously.

“Uh, not really,” he said, still not able to make eye contact
with her. He felt like a stupid little boy. This woman is a
whore!! Pull yourself together, man!! the voice in his head
screamed. Titrus adjusted himself on the long bench and
cleared his throat.

Taking a deep breath, he finally locked eyes with her. But
immediately his gaze fell away to a spot which was exactly in
the middle of her two perfect breasts. Titrus was momentarily
afraid that he was drooling. The lieutenant sat there for a
moment, mesmerized at the swell of her breasts, staring as the
creamy mounds moved up and down with her breathing. His groin
clenched again and his balls swelled. The woman had a small
mole on her right mound. Titrus thought it was cutest thing
he’d ever seen.

Raising his blues eyes once again to meet her green hazy gaze,
he managed to speak. “I was…uh…just having lunch. Uh…can
I…uh…buy you a drink?” he stammered like a fool while at the
same time waving for the barmaid to come back. “What would you
like, my lady?”
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: linnet
Date: Mon Jun 02, 2008 7:26 pm

Gawain


Gawain didn’t miss Galahad’s ears pricking up when Lavinia
referred to his being drunk. The blond knight had thought it a
perfectly sensible way to prepare himself to face the ordeal
of getting treated at the infirmary. He suspected that Galahad
was reading some scandalous, or at least gossip worthy,
significance into it. Gawain returned his friend’s surprised
curious look by raising his hand to signal stop, and frowning
slightly toward Galahad. He hoped the younger knight would
back off the issue for now. When Galahad’s expression changed
from curious to flushed as if embarrassed, Gawain feared that
his dismissive gesture had bothered his friend. Clearly the
two of them needed to sit down and get things off their minds.

Galahad
 
"What? Oh - oh that? Yes she did tend to it. It's just a
scratch in any case. Uh - thanks. We'll be off then.
Gawain?"


Gawain shook his head slowly while looking sternly at Galahad.
The hole in his midsection wasn’t just a scratch. If he was
lying to Lavinia about how bad it was, he could also be lying
about Alina having taken care of it. The long-haired knight
let himself be pulled backwards by the elbow toward the door.
Galahad was understandably anxious to get away from Lavinia’s
nosy questions about Alina. And Gawain had no reason to linger
if they couldn’t see Dag. The nun said nothing more, just
stood her ground intent on making sure they actually left.
“It’s been a pleasure, as always, Lavinia,” he said in his
most charming voice, still facing the old woman, as he moved
away from her. Once again, his best disarming smile seemed to
have no effect on the nun.

Once outside, Gawain halted them both in the sliver of shelter
provided by the infirmary’s roof overhang. “Listen,” he said,
then took a deep breath and looked out toward the street, away
from his friend. “I need to tell you something, and I could
use a drink first. Come with me to the tavern?” He looked back
toward Galahad, knowing his concerned expression would only
irritate the younger man who had seen it so often. “Tell me
the truth,” he said. “Is that wound going to be alright?”
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