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June 2008
Topic Started: Mar 23 2010, 07:18 PM (3,696 Views)
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: sabor ice
Date: Sun Jun 22, 2008 10:42 pm
Ash


Ash watched Fiona disappear around the corner and lunge toward
the dungeons, and couldn't help but to take a moment to wonder
if it was Roman blood that now sabotaged the girl's veins. She
was mechanical, spineless. So obedient. So tamed. Without
pride. There was no trace of Briton left there. It pained Ash
to see one of his own so lost to her own people. Rome was a
cunning, evil temptress, but Ash would not fall so easily
under its spell as others before him had. One people could not
prosper while the other lived. The damage had been done. There
was just too much time could never erase. Peace between the
Romans and the Britons was the impossible dream.

The Woad sunk to the ground, a part of his Mother Earth,
sacred land of Britons, even so behind the walls of a Roman
Keep. They had ravaged his people's land, bled it beyond
recognition. The soil, the trees, the rocks, everything - it
belonged to all Britons, and someday it would again be theirs.
Victory seemed only a breath away at times. The idea of
freedom for his children - prospective generations to come -
drove Ash onward. Until he drew his last dying breath, he
would fight. Fight for a future.

Gods willing he would live long enough to keep a promise - to
bring Eala home alive.

The Woad muttered a short prayer in his native tongue, raising
a hand from the muck at his side, using his muddied digits to
paint stripes across his rugged face in a fluid, diagonal
motion - from his left temple to his right jaw line. Now, he
was invincible.

He reached for the dagger in his boot and slid it into his
waistband for easier access. Ash darted for the mouth of the
dungeons - which at the moment reminded the man much of a
dragon's - at remarkable speed despite his injuries. Fiona had
seemingly successfully lured away the guards, yet Ash remained
alert, as he vanished into the dark dampness of the dragon's
belly. This was the point of no return.

Ash heard the clattering of a cell door being either open or
closed and warily peered around one corner, his fingers
gripping the hilt of his weapon tightly. There was one guard,
a fat, burly one by the looks of him, who had not
considerately answered the call of the decoyed
damsel-in-distress. He had a tray of some sorts and set it
aside as he fumbled to pull open a cell. Briefly, the Woad
caught sight of the prisoner to be fed - it was Eala. As the
soldier went to retrieve the food tray, his back turned toward
Ash. The Woad stealthily crept up behind the man, eyes burning
with deadly intent. He crashed into the soldier, savagely
smashing the older man's head into the cell bars once to stun
him. Before the burly soldier could cry out, Ash clamped a
hand around his mouth and slit his throat. The soldier gurgled
and flailed violently a moment, before his body lifelessly
dropped to the ground.

Ash turned and yanked the door of the cell open the remainder
of the way, reaching inside and immediately pulling Eala's
tiny form to him. There was no time for a proper reunion now.
He blew out a sharp sigh, running a hand over the back of the
girl's hair, tilting her head back so she'd look up at him.

"We must hurry," he told her.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Eledhwen
Date: Mon Jun 23, 2008 2:33 am
Bors


Dagonet
 
"Welcome back, friend."


Bors scrunched himself over to squint at Dagonet over his
shoulder, and instead caught the smirk that Lancelot threw at
Saoirse.

"Hmph!" he grunted, scowling at what he took to be a secretive
exchange between the two.

He didn't trust the first knight, and he didn't trust the
Irish girl either now, not after she had hurt his friend so
badly. He didn't really want to be in the company present at
the minute, but his leg was still agony, worse if anything, so
he didn't have a lot of choice.

Lancelot
 
"Ah, Bors. And here I'd thought I might have won our bet
by default."


"Hmph," he growled again, the harsh sound of the dark
kinight's voice grating on his nerves. "Take more'n that to
put me out of action mate."

He managed to roll onto his back, if for no other reason than
to keep an eye on Lancelot with his friend's woman. Dag was
too trusting for his own good sometimes.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Pinkie
Date: Mon Jun 23, 2008 3:43 am
Galahad


Galahad wasn't aware that he had hurt himself at all during
the fall. He presumed he had hurt himself but he didn't feel
it yet. When he looked up he could see Alina looking down over
the table at him and quickly looked away, focussing on the
gruond and getting up off of it. He staggered over his boot
the first attempt and slumped back to the ground - whilst
there he took a moment to consider how apt this was.
Everything just falling to the floor so suddenly. Just when he
thought he had been on his feet things had fallen down around
him. A nice analogy of his love-life right now he thought as
he made another attempt to extricate himself from the bench,
table and his own wobbly legs.

A pale hand appeared from above.

Galahad glanced up at the tiny fingers. Fingers he had thought
he knew so well - but he never would have thought that those
fingers would do this to him. That the mind behind those
fingers would be able to to to to ...

Alina
 
"I didn't do it to hurt you, alright? Not here, Galahad.
Please. People are staring."


Sniffing, Galahad shook his head, pushing her hand away. He
grasped a hold of the edge of teh table, oblivious to the eyes
and attentions that were on them. With as much strength as he
could muster, Galahad hauled himself to his feet, the table
moved backwards as he got to the flats and he staggered back -
again - but this time caught himself before falling. He
wavered on his feet a moment, grimacing with a hand abotu his
stomach where there was pain from his healing wound.

"Staring? You didn't seem to mind people staring when you were
outside with him this morning!" Galahad snapped under his
breath, looking down to the side. He placed his hand flat on
the table and leaned sideways, retrieving his mug of ale. Of
course it was empty so he banged it onto the wooden surface.
His knees bent as if he were going to sit but instead he
bopped back up again adn looked Alina straight in the eye -

"And if you didn't do it to hurt me then why did you do it,
Alina?" her name was drawn out from his moist lips, his two
fists on the centre of the table as he leaned across it at
her. He shook his head and withdrew, tossing a dismissive hand
in her direction. "Were you bored? Lonely? Were you you you
... was it revenge?" Galahad asked through narrowed eyes,
walking around the table and walking off with a stiff wave of
hsi hand over his shoulder in dismissal of her.









Drake

Derfel
 
“No trouble at all. What would needin’ to be done first?
Do we have to speak to whatever Roman officer is in
charge of the housing?”


Drake saw Derfel looking over his shoulder at Lucius and
raised one eyebrow before ducking his head. Regardless of
whether the Saxon wanted his help or not, he was going to help
Linnette. So long as she wanted his help he would suffer the
awkward feeling that he was intruding on things that were none
of his business. It wouldn't be the first time that he risked
being told to butt out - he could stand and observe, act when
needed to letting the rest roll off his back.

He didn't realise he had kept his hand on Linnette's shoulder
for as long as he had until she shrugged her shoulder a little
- he gently removed his hand, trying not to do it suddenly for
fear of it looking like a guilty gesture.

Linnette
 
“Well…Drake was the one who inquired about it, Perhaps
you could go tell then we’ll take it? Then I suppose
we’d better start packing.”


The Spaniard's hand flexed down by his side, suitably hidden
behind Linnette's slight body. He looked over her head though
he knew she was looking back at him for confirmation in front
of her sister and Derfel that he had indeed done as she said
he had. The sister was giving a tight-lipped look at her
sister. Drake's jaw gave a reflexive twitch before he looked
down at Linnette, feeling as if his expressions and movements
were being monitored for bad behaviour. His green eyes met
Linnette's hazel ones and he gave a stiff nod of his head,
acquiescing to her suggestion.

Drake was just about to tell those gathered that he would be
off to do as he was bid when his attention was drawn across
the room. He flinched, knowing that that is where Alina had
been. He was purposely keeping his distance from the young
woman because he could not be more disapproving of her choice
of bit on the side! But when he saw her leaning over the table
at the obviously inebriated Knight, the Spaniard couldn't help
but sigh in sympathy, shaking his head. And he knew that Kolya
would not make this easy for her either - regardless of what
he might have promised, there was no way in hell Kolya would
allow this situation to pass off without getting as much out
of it as he possibly could.

Linnette's reaction, however, was totally unexpected.
Initially.

Linnette
 
“Was he raised in a barn? I’m going to go pack. Someone
come tell me when you find out where this room is.”


Drake's jaw gave an audible creak at her snappish words, his
eyes following her into the kitchen and then back out again.
There was an anger to his eyes, an inability to keep his
temper straight when he knew that one solid punch to one
bearded jaw would quieten things down a little. But it was not
his place - Like Gawain he believed lovers tiffs should remain
between lovers.

The auburn haired sister stormed out of the tavern and for a
moment there was just silence. Drake watched the door as if
she wuold come back and finally moved his eyes to meet
Linnesse's. He said nothing for a while and then pushed back
from the counter-top with a nod at Derfel, out of respect than
friendliness. Out of a shared responsibility than anything
else.

"The room is down facing the back-yard, above the kitchens.
I'll prop the door open so you know which one." Drake said
precisely. He already knew which room it was that Linnette and
her sister were moving to - it was the one right next door to
his own room, a fact that made this whole thing that bit more
... uncomfortable for him. He had to remain somehow segregated
from Linnette, despite what he wanted . IT was not what she
would want, and certainly not what she would want at this
moment in time. And yet the fates seemed to be colluding
against him, forcing him into keeping by her side the way he
knew he shouldn't.

With one irritated look towards Galahad who was staggering to
his feet, Drake made to leave the tavern.









Eala

Eala couldn't hear the guard coming, but something in her
senses picked out the fact that there was someone approaching.
She hunkered down the back of her cell, poised, ready - her
black eyes were bottomless, her pale teeth exposed as her lips
were pulled back in a snarl. She had resolutely refused to eat
the last tray of food they put down but now she was starving.
Awful Roman food...

The doll was held in her hand, her fingers wrapped around the
soft body where she could feel the solid presence of the knife
she had hidden there. Her blonde hair was a little damp from
the drips that fell from the cell ceiling, but overall she was
alot cleaner now than she had been when in the other cell. The
cut on her cheek hurt though, from when the man had hit her.
It felt a bit puffy, swollen, and very tender to touch. Once
she got out of here though, once she found the man who killed
Donnchadh and killed him in revenge, she could get back to
Merlin and Juna could fix it for her.

There was movement - the cell door clanged, vibrating along
the ground to Eala's feet. She shifted her position, becmoing
ready to attack - hissing and digging her heels into the
ground, her back pressed against the wall, glaring at the
figure in the doorway. And then something else happened. Eala
saw movement, more movement, and she perked up a little, fear
forgotten in curiosity. The man grew bigger and sprouted extra
arms for the briefest moment before he sunk to the ground and
twitched lifelessly. In his place there was ... a hand.

Eala gave a grunt of protest as she was hauled out of her
cell. Immediately thinking the worse she scrambled to reach
the knife at her thigh but had no need to. Once she got a
noseful of the man holding her head to his chest she knew who
it was. Her eyes filled with tears suddenly and her arms
clapped around his waist. Eala gave a small, sharp grunt of
pain at stretching her recently dislocated shoulder outwards
and felt the hand on the back of her head, coaxing her face to
turn upwards.

She did and smiled at Ash brightly. She bounced on her heels a
little, reaching up with her two hands to touch his
muck-streaked face in delight, to make sure he was real for
real. Feeling the bristle beneath her palm Eala gave a
delighted chatter of her tongue, making non-sensical,
whispering sounds.

Ash
 
"We must hurry,"


Hurry... She understood that.

Eala nodded, composing herself into the tough little cookie
that she was. She dashed into the cell and grabbed the doll,
gave Ash a warning look, then a shake of her head as she
gestured with the doll, indicating that it had a purpose. And
with that she pulled the head off of the thing to reveal the
pointy end of a knife. A vicious smile lit her face and she
popped the doll's head back on, tucked it under her arm and
reached for Ash's hand.

Blinking rapidly at the light that was coming from outside as
they moved down the corridors towards the exit, Eala found
herself shying back a little more than usual, wary, cautious -
over-cautious even. She kept creeping backwards until finally
she was behind Ash, a hand clutching a fistful of his tunic at
the back and her head peering around his side at the grey
clouds outside. The two dashed otu into the open air and went
back on themselves, running quickly, silently, down behind the
dungeons towards the walls of Badon - but they only got so far
before Eala realised what was happening.

He was leaving the fortress? But she hadn't found the man that
killed her brother!

Giving a gasp of realisation, Eala skidded to a halt and shook
her head, backing away from Ash, staring up at him. She
grunted, pointing back towards the fortress and then made a
movement with her thumb across her neck.

"D.. nnn! aww Dnnn!" she tried to speak her brother's name,
her mouth making the right shapes but her vocal chords not
quite hitting the right notes. Tears springing to her eyes
filled in what her voice could not though.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: TwistOfShadows
Date: Mon Jun 23, 2008 6:38 am
Ceinwyn and Nolan


Nolan was ready, and his stance spoke volumes. He was a tall
man, taller than most, and it was his height that commanded
attention within his chosen warriors. His green eyes were on
fire in the dull light, gleaming in the shadows and alive with
threat and promise. Their enemy would not witness mercy now,
they had had their moment. Did Merlin wish them to talk…or to
die? It was a strange confliction of motives, but Nolan hoped
for the latter. He was hungry for bloodshed, for vengeance.
They had lost warriors, good warriors, and the rest? Oh, but
they were injured and tired, and the Romans clearly sought to
attack them unawares. Indeed, the thought almost made the Woad
laugh aloud. Stealth and disguise were not Roman traits. How
could they hide amongst the trees…when they glittered so
prominently with gold armour? Vanity ruled them, and empty
religion. Let them die for it…

And as for Ceinwyn? The woman would not have it easy; she
would suffer alongside her kin…for this mission would not be
easy. They were all tired, he only hoped for adrenaline. And
he knew it would come…

Merlin
 
”Go, Nolan- go with the Gods and I will see you soon.”


Nolan nodded succinctly. He drew strength from Merlin’s touch,
and once Ceinwyn had answered her Elder? Nolan placed a heady
hand upon her shoulder, and pushed her roughly into the group
of warriors. She would not stand alone anymore; she would
stand strongly as a unit…or not at all. His dark eyes sought
hers, and he did not speak. He rather looked at her with
intent, vehemence. She would behave this time, or die with the
traitor…

“We go South,” he spoke roughly. “Cover the tracks, and keep a
weather eye for horses…”

Nolan did not wait for acknowledgement. He gripped the nearest
tree, curling his strong fingers around a burly branch…and
swung himself upwards into the foliage.

Ceinwyn spied her chance. Walking alone amongst the Woads, she
listened for something, anything, to proffer an
opportunity…and the scout? Oh, she had spun on her heels and
approached without regards to authority. She knew that Nolan
disliked her, it was not so hard to comprehend, but she cared
little for his opinion. The military leader had not been taken
hostage by Arthur and his Sarmatians, and Ceinwyn had. That
pronounced her more experienced, and she would use it to her
advantage. She had volunteered herself without hesitation…and
if Nolan had dared to refuse her? She would have followed
anyway, because she saw a clear pathway to her redemption. Who
was Nolan to deny such a chance? The Woad could tolerate his
blunt nature. It did not disarm her, not at all. She would be
obedient to his word, and serve Merlin well. She was born for
this duty.

A slow smile slipped across her feline lips as Nolan spoke. The military
lieutenant did not turn round, nor did he truly acknowledge
her…but it was enough. She would prove his distrust obsolete,
she was sure of it. Unbeknownst to her, she had tightened her
fingers around her bone dagger, immediately prepared for any
attack, any order…and that same adrenaline flowed through her
veins. She had not felt it for a long time, and it suited her
well. Her green eyes burnt with a more vehement luster, and
she no longer appeared quite so…irrational. She lifted her
chin defiantly, and approached the other warriors. She drew
strength from them, she felt…strong. Who was their enemy?
Roman or slave? Both, and Ceinwyn would confront them
fearlessly. Her mind had grown harder with time, and her fears
had been quelled by the intensity of her regrets. The Woad
would prove herself, and no one would question her again.
No-one.

The woman watched Nolan and Merlin converse, and she listened
hard. She was interested, very interested…

Merlin
 
“Peace, Ceinwyn- a warrior who shows patience is the
more likely to be chosen.”


Patience? It had not served her well in the past, but Merlin
was wise. The woman met his frown with an inclination of her
head, acknowledging his words. She would not argue. Nolan
would not have chosen her if she’d remained in silence, she
was sure of it…but she had her chance, her opportunity, and
she was too smart to lose it with wayward words. Ceinwyn had a
renound talent for speaking out of turn, but not this time.
This time, she would behave…until her next opportunity
presented itself…

“Then let patience guide me…” It was a simple answer, but not
entirely honest. The woman looked to her Elder, her eyes
gleaming in the dull light, and raked her matted hair from her
forehead. She felt the muddy strands stick to her fingers,
felt the twigs scattered throughout each curl. Indeed, she was
a frightening sight…but she cared not. Her lips wore an easy
smile, but it was filled with intent and promise. It looked
half maddened. Ceinwyn was ready for this…
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Mon Jun 23, 2008 8:48 am
Linnesse


Drake
 
"The room is down facing the back-yard, above the
kitchens. I'll prop the door open so you know which
one."


“All right- thank you,” Linnesse answered him, nodding, but
feeling a little shell-shocked by what had just happened. She
knew this was a difficult time for Linnette- it couldn’t be
otherwise- but her volatile, constantly changing moods were
not what Linnesse had been expecting, and she felt a sense of
inability to deal with this, inability to help her sister,
growing. She should be doing something differently- but how?
And what? What were those bandages on her hands for, and why
was Drake practically stalking her around the fort? Linnesse
felt that as Linnette’s sister and only relative now, she
should know the answers to those questions, should be the one
closest to her who knew her heart- and yet she didn’t.
Linnette preferred to go sit on walls in the rain and stomp
out of taverns rather than confide in her. It didn’t make any
sense- and it hurt.

Still, Drake knew where this room was, and who to tell that
they wanted it, so it made sense to accept his help for now,
at least in that. Linnesse felt a tiredness creeping up on
her, too, which while not as bad as it had been that morning
in the chapel, let her know that she would not be up for heavy
work this day, much as her efforts might be needed. She would
do as much as she could, of course, but that might extend to
not much more than packing clothes and other small items. She
sighed frustratedly, looking up at Derfel as Drake left the
tavern. So much to do- and her treacherous body to weak with
illness to do it.

“I worry about her,” Linnesse exclaimed anxiously, her eyes
wide and her mouth twisted with the uncertainty of it. “She’s
so…so…I don’t know…isolated! She doesn’t even seem to want to
talk to me!” She and her sister had had their spats as
children, of course, but as adults, any disagreement between
them had been quickly mended. Linnesse couldn’t recall ever
feeling such distance from her sister, at least not when she
was around. Even when Linnette had been trying to convince her
that Derfel was only after her money, it hadn’t felt like
this! Linnesse heaved another anxious sigh and turned toward
her bowl of stew, unable to resist filling her stomach with
another bite- but though it satisfied her hunger, it did
nothing for the worry and fear- yes, fear- that she felt right
now.











Linnette

Linnette stomped across the courtyard, her head down, her eyes
on the flagstones, not wanting any company or notice at this
time. She pushed herself to take long strides, Gedeon-sized
strides, long steps that ate the ground between her and her
room, where she could at least be alone for a while. Her anger
was irrational- she wasn’t even sure what she was angry at,
unless it was once again the sheer unfairness of the whole
situation. She didn’t want to have to do this! She didn’t want
to have to move, and frankly, she didn’t want to have to move
in with Linnesse and Derfel either! But even less did she want
to go and protest the whole necessity of it, so it looked like
there was no choice. She wasn’t going back to Arthur again. So
this would happen- it just would.

Her room seemed, once again, empty and desolate when she
reached it, despite the fact that all her and Gedeon’s things
were there. Just the thought that the other inhabitant of the
place would never come back was enough to totally change the
character of the place, turn it from a cozy home to a trap. On
second thought, maybe it was better if she moved. She didn’t
think she could bear another night spent alone here- the first
had been torture. But still, the idea that this room which
Gedeon had occupied since he first came to the fort would now
be turned over to others, others who perhaps had never known
Gedeon, and all trace and memory of him here would be removed-
it was a heartbreaking thing. But keeping the room exactly as
it was and yet not sleeping here was hardly an option, either.

She started on the easiest part of it- her own clothing. That
was simple and neutral and easy enough to throw into a bag
that she had. She pushed Gedeon’s saddlebags- still occupying
the bed- a bit over to the side to make room, but otherwise,
she did not touch anything of Gedeon’s as yet. She was
truthfully afraid she’d start crying again if she did. So she
stuck to her own things for now, folding dresses and shifts
and putting them in a bag, and thinking that she’d roll up the
tapestry on the wall next. Anything to avoid for just a while
her husband’s things- maybe later, when she was feeling just
at tiny bit better, it would be easier.












Quintus

Until now, it had been an uneventful day in the dungeons.

However, it wasn’t to stay that way for long. Centurion
Quintus was in the deepest part of the cells, inspecting the
guard post down there, when a sound from above caught his
ears. It wasn’t a loud sound- in fact it was hard to say why
it alarmed him at all. It was a thump, of something hitting
the wall, perhaps, and then another, slightly louder one,
accompanied by a metallic clang, but both muffled by distance
up the corridor. It could have been that someone had simply
dropped something. But nevertheless, something about it
pricked up Quintus’s suspicions.

He turned from the guard post and jogged up the corridor
without another word, to find that he had been quite right in
thinking something wrong. The door of one of the cells- the
little Woad girl’s cell, in fact- was ajar, and the guard who
had been delivering the food lay just outside it, his tray and
the gruel and bread intended for the girl spilled on the
floor. The man’s throat was slit from ear to ear, his blood
puddling in the cracks between the flagstones with the gruel.

“Guards!” Quintus roared, charging immediately up the corridor
towards the entrance. Damn Woad bitch! She must have hidden
something sharp, then surprised the man when he opened her
cell to bring her food. She should have been chained! Shackled
so she couldn’t even move! She was no child, she was a devil!
In the corridor below Quintus there was a commotion as the
guards from down there hurried to join him, but surely the
guards at the dungeon entrance would stop her- right? Quintus
was counting on that, but when he reached the entrance to the
courtyard, he was horrified to discover that neither of them
were even there.

Fucking idiots! He would flay them within an inch of their
miserable lives for leaving their posts! Quintus charged out
into the courtyard, scanning the area and yelling for backup.

“Guards! Prisoner escape! Where the fuck are you? Get your
asses out here!” The Centurion dashed around the nearest
corner of the dungeon building- but the murderous little bitch
was nowhere in sight. Where could she have gone?
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Starbelle
Date: Mon Jun 23, 2008 10:46 am
Tatiana


Between the warmth of the water and the gentleness of his
fingers as Adian bathed her, Tatiana began to relax drowsily
in the bath, seemingly to let her cares float away with the
water. Tensing slightly, just minute muscle twitches really,
when his soap-coated fingers glided unknowingly over her
ticklish areas, then relaxing again until a pitcher full of
water was poured over her rinsing the soap away. Awakening the
shivers and goose-bumps of another kind on her skin until he
placed the empty pitcher down with a smile.

"Wow, Adian. That was fun. I really enjoyed that, very much.
Thank you." She replied polietly but with a grin on her face.

Adian
 
"There, much better, Tatiana...". "Now I will hold to my
end of the deal...I am yours."


Alright, this'll be fun. Tatiana commented to herself, as her
eyes sparkled with playful mischief once more as she picked up
the wash cloth and getting it wet, went behind him with it to
wash off his back gently. Picking up the soap, she rubbed her
hands with it until suds appeared to cover her small hands
then placed it down in the water.

Standing on tip-toes, she was able to reach his shoulders with
her hands and gave him a massage first from the back of his
neck underneath his short black hair to his shoulders to help
relax him, like he did her. Working her way down his back in a
massage-like touch until she came across his sides and
playfully,very playfully, tickled him, her tiny fingers
sliping into tickle spots along the way then went back to the
washing part.

Getting the pitcher, Tatiana, after filling it, again stood on
tip-toes to rinse his neck and back free of the suds. This she
did one more time to make sure that all of the soap was
completly washed off. Once she was sure that all of the suds
were gone, she replaced the pitcher.

"There you go, Adian. All done. I had fun doing that, too."
She said with an impish grin as she came swimming out from
behind him. With beads of water glistening in her hair from
the sunlight looking for all the world like crystals as they
glittered there among the strands of her coppery hair.

I hope that he didn't mind my being playful with him while
doing his back
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Mon Jun 23, 2008 11:20 am

Arthur


The seductress – the harlot - displayed her wiles yet again as
Eyla leaned in closer to Arthur. She had patted his hand and
casually toyed with her hair as he spoke to her offering
innocence that he knew she lacked. Eyla was the Devil in human
form if Arthur were to believe his own Christian teachings.
But he refused to see the harlot for all that she truly was.
Arthur always sought out the good in every soul he met. He had
certainly found it in Lancelot in those quiet private moments
when the other man had actually let his guard down for Arthur.

Lancelot.

If anyone could wield the power of seduction over Artorius
Castus….it was Lancelot ap Ban. But it was not Lancelot that
leaned invitingly over Arthur now…it was not Lancelot’s warm
breath that feathered over Arthur’s stubbled face, or
Lancelot’s sword-calloused fingers that grasped at Arthur’s
rough hand. It was not even Darya, whom had given Arthur her
heart and the one woman that the Roman had kept in his bed
regularly in recent times. Emerald eyes briefly flickered to
the rim of Eyla’s tightly fitted bodice. Had he not been in so
much discomfort and suffering such fatigue, Eyla might have
been more successful in arousing the Roman.

Eyla
 
“Do you really want to know…Artorius…? And what would
you do if I told you? Hmm?”


I want to know, but not at the cost of my soul or my pride.

Eyla’s lips were ever so close to Arthur’s mouth now; parted
and plump and shimmering red in the firelight. The commander
could taste her right at this very moment if he had chosen to
yield to her in this game of seduction. Liquid green eyes
looked up at Eyla’s soft and alluring expression, yet Arthur’s
face reflected a placid façade. The steady ache in his side
kept his body focused on pain not pleasure.

Eyla
 
“Would you touch me for it? Would you give into my
attempts at seduction? Would you…take me now?”


Arthur made a small nonsensical sound of amusement at her
continued baiting. His gaze followed hers as her dark eyes
flickered towards the lower half of his body. What did she
expect to see there? Did she hope for a visual confirmation
that she had succeeded in arousing the man? There was none as
Arthur was still in far too much discomfort to allow a handful
of suggestive words from a harlot arouse him right now. Or so
he thought. But as Eyla pressed a fingernail into the side of
Arthur’s hand and allowed her full mouth to part even more
invitingly within a breaths width of his….the zing of desire
did finally fly up the Roman’s spine. He immediately fought
the urge to take what she offered and as if God himself looked
down upon Arthur in his moment of weakness….Eyla suddenly
pulled away as if His hand had separated the two and spared
Arthur from the failure in his emotional armor just now.

Eyla
 
“Come now, you know me better than that…but I adore your
technique…”


“My technique?” Arthur groused; his emerald eyes flickered
with an intensity that gave a hint to the passion that resided
deep within his soul. But that passion was not for Eyla
despite how alluring and sensual she appeared for Arthur. She
was not in the Roman’s heart and taking her would only
complicate an already sinful existence in this life.

“You refuse to answer my question unless I what? Kiss you
now?” Arthur commented rather sardonically his green eyes
slightly narrowed at Eyla perhaps showing a bit of impatience
at her refusal to answer his direct question. He wanted to
know her motives here. Truly. If only to keep his mind
distracted from heavier thoughts…especially from the one who
could so easily succeed in a game of seduction with Arthur.

“And then what? Hm?” Arthur continued; his thick fingers
applying pressure around her tiny hand as he spoke. “I want
better for you, Eyla,” He finished and softened his grip on
her hand. Arthur would not take away this woman’s dignity in
revenge of what he’d lost of his own with Lancelot and with
Darya. No.

Find yourself another whore for the night.

Arthur pushed himself up into a sitting position with his left
hand, allowing Eyla to continue possessing his right. The
movement of course brought on a wave of pain from his wounded
side. Arthur briefly grimaced and glanced down at his black
tunic as if expecting to see his own blood soaking the
material again. But no indication of serious damage was
visible.

“Enough of this game, hm? Tell me why you persist with it,”
Arthur insisted while attempting to find a comfortable
position on the bed again. He silently cursed his wound and
weakened physical state. His mind also went to the Optio and
the mission of peace he’d sent Scipio on this morning. A
mission that Arthur himself should have taken care of with
Merlin. The lines across Arthur’s brow deepened as his
thoughts turned once more to more serious matters than Eyla’s
games of seduction. Had that brief twinge of ‘want’ truly
fled? Arthur prayed it had.
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golden_trillium

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Author: golden_trillium
Date: Mon Jun 23, 2008 11:32 am
Merlin


Ceinwyn
 
“Then let patience guide me…”


Nolan
 
“We go South. Cover the tracks, and keep a weather eye
for horses…”


“Good.” Merlin grunted an acknowledgement as Nolan- and
Ceinwyn now with his group- moved off. He trusted Nolan’s
judgment- if he wanted Ceinwyn with him then she could go. If
there was any disobedience on her part he would deal with it
later- but it looked like things had been solved much faster
than he had expected. And she was able-bodied, if filthy. She
would do fine.

Merlin turned back towards Juna now, making his way against
the tide of hurrying Woads to reach her. She still stood stock
still, in the middle of the path, not moving, waiting for him,
and Merlin once more felt worry and frustration stab at his
middle. She shouldn’t be hanging around like this!

“Juna…four men have ridden from the fort to the camp, and they
have Neeria with them. You must hurry,” he frowned at her, his
face stern out of worry; he was unable to understand why she
was still just standing here. He suddenly wanted her out of
danger with an urgency that was strong enough to stick in his
throat!
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golden_trillium

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Author: Darya
Date: Mon Jun 23, 2008 12:21 pm
Neeve


Vanora
 
And there is nothing I love best than a handsome young knight to whom I can serve the ale to. Gawain, how is your arm? Bors told me last night that a new young man had joined the group and had treated Dagonet, you, Galahad...Who was this young man...where did he come from?"


Gawain
 
“That would have been a fellow named Brendyn. His whole
outfit was wiped out by the Saxons, and he was
transferred here, but I forget where from. Nice kid. He
did a good job with this, but the Woads pretty much
undid it. I was hoping you’d be working when I drank
enough courage to visit the infirmary last night to get
it taken care of. But no, it was just me and Lavinia,
and that woman hates me.”


At first, Neeve just listened closely to the brief exchange
between Vanora and Gawain. It was always good to know when
someone new had arrived at Badon Hill. Especially if that
someone was a soldier or a knight as chances were usually high
that the healer would sooner or later have to deal with that
person in the infirmary. So now she had a new name…and it was
only a matter of time until she would have the face to the
name.

However, when Gawain then addressed her directly, the
raven-haired woman breathed a laugh at his words and lifted a
hand to briefly pat the Sarmatian’s shoulder. “Ah, it’s a
shame I missed that…”, Neeve replied and gave the knight a wry
smile, “…I’m glad to see Lavinia left you alive though…” Then
the Briton became serious and met Gawain’s light gaze with her
own. “But if you want to have a look at your arm, too…let me
know, okay?”, she added and the expression in her eyes clearly
told the man that she meant what she was saying. He would
perhaps have to wait for a bit as Arthur still was Neeve’s
major concern…but she would check on Gawain’s injury as well
if he wished it…

But before Neeve could say more, loud noises and a male’s
voice shouting something distracted her from her current
conversation. The healer’s head whipped around and she spotted
Galahad sprawled on the floor and Alina leaning over the
table, apparently trying to help the young knight. Neeve
furrowed her brow and glanced sideways at Gawain, who was
Galahad’s best friend and therewith probably knew what the
commotion was about. From what she saw, the young Sarmatian
was drunk…and obviously upset about something. Neeve shook her
head and turned back at Vanora and Gawain, idly scratching the
back of her neck as she did so…

Gawain
 
“Time for me to get out of here. Can I help you take
that somewhere?”


“Hm?”, the healer uttered and then saw Gawain motioning
towards the basket of food in front of her. “Oh that…well,
actually…you can…”, Neeve said, almost glad that Gawain
mentioned the very thing she had come here for. By the Gods,
she was late…and poor Arthur probably already starving. “We
should hurry and deliver this before it gets cold…”, the woman
added and gave Vanora an almost apologetic glance for this
meant, that she and Gawain would take their leave now…
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golden_trillium

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Author: Pinkie
Date: Mon Jun 23, 2008 12:24 pm
Amadeus


Malcus had come to join them. Amadeus did not look at him, his
grey eyes focussed on the man that Tristan now ungagged. The
sense of power over this life was immense. With one flick of
his hand Amadeus could have that man dead and with no blood on
his hand. Oh it was not teh first time that Amadeus would
order a man dead and have no blood upon his hands, but this
time it was different... this time it was not done in secret.

Ungagged, the woad spat on the ground and looked around with
large, hateful eyes. He seemed to sense who was in charge and
let his hostile eyes rest on Amadeus who stood unmoving, a
knowing smirk upon his thin lips. His eyebrows rose marginally
when the man stared at him, recognising him as the leader.

"Where is Merlin?" the Optio asked in a simple tone of voice,
his words slow and deliberate, as if he were talking to a
child. There was no reaction other than a harder glare.
Amadeus' smirk became lopsided. He glanced at Malcus and then
at Tristan before shifting his feet and narrowing his grey
eyes at teh woad.

"Last chance. Where. Is. Merlin?" the grey eyed male asked.
The woad spat on his boots which made Amadeus stagger a step
backwards in disgust, his lip pulled upwards in a sneer. He
scoffed and then gave an irritated growl, looking balefully at
the woad as he ordered Tristan with a gesture of his hand -

"Kill him. Ungag the next one." he said snippily, displeased
but hopeful that the sight of his dead comrade might coax the
next woad into talking.
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golden_trillium

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Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Mon Jun 23, 2008 12:51 pm
Derfel


Derfel had nodded in agreement as Linnette requested Drake go
inform whomever about the rooms. He would not argue with her
on who should do what…not right now at any rate. But curious
still was this friendship with the older man that Derfel had
somehow missed….had Gedeon known the Spaniard better? Perhaps
that was why Linnette was so ‘friendly’ with the man now. The
knight exchanged a brief nod in acknowledgement with Drake.

Derfel was about to dismiss his own thoughts on that matter
when Galahad’s agitated voice broke out from across the
tavern. He turned to see if his fellow knight and friend
needed some back up over something…and he then noticed Gawain
and Neeve close at hand as well. Derfel frowned a bit but
assumed Gawain would have the younger knight well in hand if
need be. And for all Derfel knew, Galahad was only acting out
on the losses they had suffered and residule exhaustion from
the mission.

Linnette
 
“Was he raised in a barn? I’m going to go pack. Someone
come tell me when you find out where this room is. Take
your time eating,”


Drake
 
"The room is down facing the back-yard, above the
kitchens. I'll prop the door open so you know which
one."


Derfel watched Linnette walk away, the worry lines in his
forehead deepening as he thought she should not be alone.
Obviously, packing her husband’s belongings would be upsetting
and Derfel did wish to spare the woman any unnecessary pains.
At least Drake knew the location of these new rooms and they
should be easy enough to find from his description…Derfel
certainly knew lodgings existed behind and above the kitchens
here. It would be odd though….not having his own lodgings in
among the rest of the knights. But this was for the best for
Linnesse and her sister. He finally turned back to the bar as
Linnesse spoke again. The knight had noted Drake back away,
but assumed the Spaniard was off to duty of some sort.

Linnesse
 
“All right- thank you……I worry about her. She’s so…so…I
don’t know…isolated! She doesn’t even seem to want to
talk to me!”


Derfel’s expression immediately softened as he looked down
into Linnesse’s bewildered eyes. She looked tired overall too.
Derfel slipped an arm supportively ‘round Linnesse’s tiny
waist and shifted to press his side snuggly against her.

“Go on and finish your meal, luv. We’ll see to her when your
done…find the rooms and then figure out what best to do
next…perhaps get your sister settled in before we move our own
things?” Derfel suggested and then pressed a small kiss to
Linnesse’s furrowed brow. He was concerned that his lover
might need to rest a bit this afternoon. He could get Lucius
to help him move Linnette’s things first while Linnesse
napped…then get his own things later.
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Author: TwistOfShadows
Date: Mon Jun 23, 2008 3:36 pm
Eyla


Eyla did not claim to be the devil incarnate, but would have
loved the description. Yes, she was the Queen of Sins, and
everything she believed was so wickedly mischievous and
frowned upon. It was simply delightful! And the harlot strove
for nothing else. These games kept the blood flowing in her
veins, and retained that dark sparkle in her pretty eyes. She
was Beauty, and Beauty was her weapon. She had been born to be
admired, loved and lusted for…and why not get paid for such a
service? When she had been a simple chambermaid in her younger
years, she had dressed modestly and been shy and reserved to
everyone. And now? Oh, there was nothing shy and reserved
about her full bosom on display, or the way she lingered close
to Arthur’s lips…tempting him to taste what she offered.
Heaven. With one kiss, Eyla promised to make all the pain and
worry go away…and she could do it. She was sure of it. Just
let him submit…

Artorius retained a firm defense against her charms, but it
only encouraged Eyla further. The Roman could deny himself the
pleasures of the flesh, but surely he wanted it? Surely he
could not send her away for seeking to pleasure him? The woman
looked to the deep frown lines on his forehead, the stressed
tension of his soft mouth. Indeed, the Roman took life too
seriously, and it was not healthy. Did he find solace in being
permanently edgy? Troubled? Eyla fancied that he needed a
distraction, and one that brought no complications.

Arthur
 
“My technique?”


Artorius’ green eyes flared with a renewed vigour, and Eyla
blinked lazily at him. Her thick lashes brushed her
cheekbones, and she smiled at his words. Yes, his techniques.
Everyone has techniques, despite their claims of innocence and
honesty. Everyone knew how to appeal to another, everyone
could manipulate their words to achieve the answers they
sought. Indeed, Eyla was quite adept at manipulation and
seduction, and she rarely witnessed it in others, but
Artorius? The Roman sought something from her, but she was not
sure what exactly. He was apparently more interested in
conversation, than the delights of the flesh…but why?

Arthur
 
“You refuse to answer my question unless I what? Kiss
you now? And then what? Hm? I want better for you,
Eyla,”


His grip had tightened around the woman’s wrist, and then
loosened softly, then released. Indeed, Eyla was no stranger
to his touch…she had felt him before, and knew him to be a
demanding lover. But now? He wanted better for her? The Roman
did not truly know her, and she doubted he wanted to. Eyla
pouted her lips at his words, but there was a flash of
annoyance in the depth of her dark eyes. She laughed softly,
but it was a heartless sound. Eyla was not sure what she
wanted from him, business or simply pleasure? Both seemed
agreeable, but Arthur continued to probe her for personal
answers. She was not willing to give them, not at all.
The woman turned away and glanced towards the fire. She
feigned boredom, yawning dramatically and shifting in her
seat. Reaching up into her thick hair, she toyed with the
curls…and then heard the Roman move beside her. She turned
slowly, just in time to see him grimace. Indeed, the man was
injured…surely that was reason enough to seek distraction?
Eyla tutted at him, and a small frown marred her delicate
forehead.

Arthur
 
“Enough of this game, hm? Tell me why you persist with
it,”


Eyla recognized the passion in his eyes, but he was a
passionate man, no? The whore knew there were matters in Badon
that were far beyond her comprehension, but she was intrigued.
The flash of emerald in his gaze was comforting, because it
matched the sparkling dazzle of hers. The Roman simply needed
to rest, and he would be fine with time. Time was a healer,
Time was comforting. Indeed, Eyla had matured graciously since
her days of naivety. She thanked her mother’s cruel and
disloyal nature for her current state of happiness. She had
learnt to be content, to be talented and needed. She wanted
for nothing else. Eyla wrapped her finger into a thick and
lustrous curl, and brought it down over her delicate shoulder.
Her dark hair emphasized the golden tan of her skin, and the
shadows of the fire danced across her full bosom. She smiled
coltishly.

“I persist because you are unhappy.” It was a blunt truth, but
spoken with a soft and melodious sweetness. Eyla did not seek
to upset him, nor speak everything that she assumed about his
sadness, but she would not appear stupid either. The woman
shrugged her shoulders, and tipped her head to the side, still
playing with the dark curl. Her dark eyes watched him
intently, seeking a reaction. She spoke again. “It is not so
obvious to most, but I can read it well in you, Artorius. I
offer you a night of pleasure because I believe I can make you
smile…” She paused, smiling for effect. It was a sweet thing,
almost childish. “…Or I could simply make you forget what
causes that deep frown of yours. You are too handsome for
frowning…hmm…”

Eyla sighed audibly, and turned away from the Roman. She
looked to the fire, smiling to herself…
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golden_trillium

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Author: Pinkie
Date: Mon Jun 23, 2008 3:40 pm
Drake


Drake left the tavern and felt a wash of relief flood through
him. He glanced back over his shoulder once - wondering why he
had felt so awkward with Linnesse and Derfel alone. He knew
that they questionned his 'interference' with Linnette but he
was not willing to put forward anything that would assuage
their suspicions. It was not his place. He didn't have a clue
what he was to Linnette. He could say 'bodyguard' but it
sounded a rather grand title considering he was not employed
by anyone to guard her and the fact that she didn't actually
need a bodyguard.

Rolling his green eyes, Drake shrugged his cloak about his
shoulders a bit higher and glanced towards the infirmary. He
would have to check on the two girls eventually. A guilty look
over his shoulder... He should really go make sure that Alina
was ok. Frustrated, Drake lifted a balled fist to the centre
of his forehead and almost wished that they were under attack
again and he had all of them in a room together under his
eyes.

With an irritated harumph, the Spaniard headed off into the
main courtyard. He gave a start when he saw a man running
about, shouting that a prisoner had escaped. Drake tensed
immediately... A prisoner escaped? Recently? Where was
Linnette?

Without a thought to help out, Drake broke into a sprint
across the mushy courtyard, remarkably steady on his feet
considering the bad condition of the ground. He shoved open
the door and tried to calm himself to a brisk walk as he
stalked the corridors, winding down to the Knight's quarters.
He saw the door open and his fingers flexed, hand reaching
towards his sword.

Slowly he aproached the open door, ever so slowly he pressed
himself against the far wall and inched to the side, looking
in to see her ... safe. Drake sagged against the wall, his
head bopping back against the stone with a muttered curse
under his breath. He was getting too old for this.

Shaking his head, the Spaniard shoved off from the wall and
continued the other direction, going up one flight of stone
steps and back to where his own room was. He went to the room
next door adn sighed, pushing it open.

Just as he did the boy from earlier came by with a stack of
firewood. Drake grabbed him by the back of the tunic.

"That'll do in here boy." he said brusquely. The boy, Arland,
gave a grimace and nodded his head.

"So she's taking this one then?" he asked.

Drake gave him a look that warned him not to ask too many
questions and when the boy visibly shrunk before him, he gave
a stiff nod. Arland swallowed roughly, deposited the firewood
on the ground by teh fire and backed out of the room, wiping
his hands.

"I'll mark it down as taken then, Sir." he said.

Drake nodded and set about making a fire. Once he had it all
ready to go, he propped the door open with one log, took a
torch from the wall outside and set the fire ablaze.

Looking around the room, he glanced towards the wall that
adjoined his room and raked a hand back over the top of his
head. Shrugging helplessly, Drake left the room and made his
way slowly back down to where Linnette was, not wanting to
intrude but willing to help with... whatever.
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Author: sabor ice
Date: Mon Jun 23, 2008 3:41 pm
Alina


Galahad
 
"Staring? You didn't seem to mind people staring when
you were outside with him this morning! And if you
didn't do it to hurt me then why did you do it, Alina?
Were you bored? Lonely? Were you you you ... was it
revenge?"


So that was it then, was it? She had bucked up and told him
the truth and tried to apologize. He had reacted the way she
had anticipated, with anger and betrayal in his right. He had
said his piece, and now he was leaving. She was left standing
there alone. Alina looked very small, very hurt by his
ridicule and the way he so blatantly dismissed her. She
noticed Drake from the corners of her eyes as he moved to make
leave the tavern, but did not have the mind nor heart to meet
his gaze now.

She averted her gaze as Galahad staggered toward the door,
questioning her own motives for having even told him in the
first place. It had really all been for her benefit, had it
not? To bleed out the guilt would clear her conscience, and
set her free, right? The truth had done more damage in a few
short minutes than a lie might've done over the course of a
lifetime. Everything was suddenly in pieces, falling apart all
around her, and Alina had not the power to stop the hellish
wheel in motion.

Narrowed sorrowful brown eyes watched as Galahad reached the
door. Perhaps it was selfish of her to not just let him go,
but the time they had spent together she was not liable to
forget so easily. The love they had shared was something Alina
was not ready to sacrifice. Logically, the only option she had
was to go after him. He may have thought it was over, but she
wasn't ready to accept it. Not yet.

The sight of Galahad stumbling to get outside was utterly
miserable. Her back straightened, her shoulders squaring
resolutely. Alina breathed in and released a deep sigh,
conjuring up the courage to finally follow him.

"We're not done talking, Galahad," Alina called after him,
bravely reaching out to touch his shoulder. The worst he could
do was force her hand again. "We can talk about this."
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golden_trillium

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Author: Pinkie
Date: Mon Jun 23, 2008 4:18 pm
Kolya and Galahad


He could try to avoid it all day if he wanted to, but frankly,
Kolya was bored shitless. He wanted a drink and he was tired
of pretending that he was the kind of man that gave up booze.
He didn't. It was all he had in this miserable existance since
Rome's claws had retracted from his hide. Pathetic as it was,
he missed the life of a knight. He missed the camaraderie. He
missed the bond between himself and other human beings, a real
bond. Not one inspired by his negative emotions.

The rain had stopped so he ventured out into it, heading
towards the tavern intent on getting blathered once he won a
bit of coin from someone.

His tunic was still wet from earlier, his boots sodden - but
he sloshed through the courtyard, unbeknownst to him, just
missing Drake. That would have made a fine meeting!

The Sarmatian glanced up at the sky, eyeballing the thick
clouds that promised more rain - but for now it had let up.
Thankfully. There was only so much rain one man could stomach
before he lost his will to live!

Head down, the former Knight, walked out into the courtyard.
He looked up when he heard a commotion, his blue eyes
following a guard as he shouted about a prisoner on the loose.
Idiots! Kolya thought, rolling his eyes. Just when they were
under threat of attack from woads they were letting prisoners
loose.

Not for one minute did he consider helping out in finding said
prisoner as he made his way over to the far side of the
courtyard to the tavern. He rounded the post and pushed open
the door just as Galahad got to it.

Two pairs of blue eyes widened and two sets of dark eyebrows
shot up in surprise. Kolya recovered first, a flash of white
teeth marking a broad grin. He glanced over the Knight's
shoulder and saw Alina.

"Hello love.." he chirped.

Galahad saw red and growled.

He lurched forward, aiming a fist at Kolya's jaw, missed and
went sprawling over the man's shoulder. The older Sarmatian
was startled at teh response - he caught the younger male and
laughed roughly, looking over at Alina with a sparkle in his
blue eyes.

"I guess this means he knows then eh?" he asked with a grunt
as he heaved Galahad away from him. He narrowed his eyes at
the obviously drunk Knight, lifting a warning finger. "Now,
lad, listen..." he began.

Galahad felt tears spring to his eyes, frustration and hurt
and embarrassment. He growled and launched himself at Kolya
again...
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