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June 2008
Topic Started: Mar 23 2010, 07:18 PM (3,695 Views)
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Lancelot
Date: Mon Jun 23, 2008 6:37 pm
Lancelot


Bors grumped at Lancelot, something about not being put out of
action yet. Lancelot rolled his eyes dramatically, and turned
his back on the other Sarmatian. "No style. None at all," he
spoke seemingly to himself, but smiled at Saorise with all the
charm he could muster when he noticed she was looking at him.

Saoirse
 
"No yer bloody not - an' yer manners are about as
refined as a hangman's."


Lancelot spoke to Dagonet quietly, and turned to go - but
stopped and cocked a thick eyebrow at the redhead laying next
to Dagonet. "And so I manage to survive, day after annoying
day, while certain Roman commanders allow Woad lovelies to
take advantage of their kindness - if you call that 'nice,'
I'd rather be known as a complete and utter bastard." He
winked at her once more, and then, slinging his leathers over
his shoulder and easily hefting his swords, turned and left
the infirmary.

As he exited, his thoughts were on Saoirse briefly. He'd known
her for a time, yes, but he didn't really know her. Oh, not in
the biblical sense as Arthur would say - what in the fuck did
that really mean, anyway? - but he found her face stayed in
his memory longer than he expected. Perhaps he'd have to
discuss some things with her later - considering the person he
usually spoke to was incapacitated and being a complete ass.
Really. Lancelot frowned as his thoughts turned yet again to
Arthur and the reasons behind the other man's injury.

You weren't there, ap Ban. You didn't do your job; you left
him to the fates, and the gods know that the fates are not
kind to those in service of Mars. Or Mithras. Or whomever
rules this bloody, forsaken land.

Had Arthur seen Darya again? What in the world would he say to
her - what would the woman think of Lancelot for allowing his
commander to be hurt? And what would Arthur have to say about
the damnable Optio -

The other man's large hand barely covered his wound; Lancelot
could still see the blood seeping through the makeshift
bandage he'd made out of his own tunic as they rode as fast as
they were able back to Badon - the Saxons defeated, another
good knight lost in the name of victory. Another day of
surviving for Lancelot -

alone. Without much but his steel and a now cold bed to fill
his thoughts.

Perhaps Saoirse would know of a girl he could use to forget
about Ar-

Quintus
 
“Guards! Prisoner escape! Where the fuck are you? Get
your asses out here!”


The fuck? Lancelot instantly transformed from normal every day
- if exhausted and wavering - man to Sarmatian cavalryman,
Arthur Castus' second and dangerous 'eejit' to be around at
the panicked sound in the centurion's voice. He dropped the
trousers he'd been carrying on top of an abandoned wine barrel
- he figured no one would steal pants - and slid his double
blades onto his back in one fluid motion.

That's better.

He approached the blustery Roman and tapped his shoulder.
"What's all the kerfuffle, my fine friend? Lost someone
important, have we?"
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Mon Jun 23, 2008 6:48 pm
Tristan


Amadeus
 
"Where is Merlin? Last chance. Where. Is. Merlin? Kill
him. Ungag the next one."


Tristan didn’t like this at all.

He was uneasy, and he could sense that Barbattus, who had
joined them in the hut, leaving Mordred to watch the prisoner,
was, too. The air of the camp was oppressive in the strange
emptiness of it, in the unexplained and unexplainable presence
of one dead and four tied-up Woads. No one from the fort had
done this- and Tristan doubted that Merlin had, either. So
that meant there was some other enemy out there, someone as
yet unknown, and yet the Optio, far from really appreciating
this, seemed merely to be gloating over the fact that he now
had several prisoners at his mercy. Tristan could practically
taste the smugness of the man, the delight in his own superior
position, and it was not pleasing to him- they should be more
cautious, and they should probably get away.

But that didn’t mean Tristan would not obey- in fact, the
sooner they took care of things here, the sooner they would
leave. And a Woad life was nothing to Tristan. His face
expressionless, his movements efficient and deadly, the scout
sliced the blade of his knife across the throat of the man in
front of him, impassively ignoring the gurgling noise he made,
the muffled surprised gasps of the others, and the flow of hot
blood over his hands. It didn’t signify- death was nothing,
and the death of a Woad even less. One more in revenge for
Percival. That was the only way worth thinking about it.

The body of the dead Woad slumped sideways to the hut’s dirt
floor, and Tristan kicked a trailing foot away from him and
cut the gag off the next man, his movements mechanical, but
his eyes burning and all within him tense with alertness.
Something would happen- it just had to.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: linnet
Date: Mon Jun 23, 2008 8:06 pm
Mother Lavinia


Fleur
 
"Them rich ladies walk funny then. I never saw a lady
'round here walkin' like this.”


“You’re right. There aren’t any rich ladies around here,”
Lavinia acknowledged. “But of there were, that’s how they’d
walk. So if you ever get rich, you’ll know what to do.”
Lavinia talked to the little girl as if they were old
acquaintances. Being with the child drained the sourness right
out of the nun. The old woman was cautiously surprised that
Fleur seemed to be comfortable with her. Based on experience,
she’d have expected the youngster to shy away and seek a quick
escape from her company.

Lavinia realized as soon as she’d said it that the chances of
Fleur ever becoming rich were next to nothing. Orphans like
Fleur and her sister, who had no one to take them in, were
lucky to even survive, let alone live happy lives – not that
Lavinia equated happy with rich.

The trusting look on the child’s precious face made the nun
doubly determined to arrange the best possible circumstances
for the girls. Just as soon as she and Fleur did the inventory
task at hand. Once in her office, Lavinia retrieved a small
ledger and writing quill. She also grabbed a smooth flatly
rounded stone from her desktop. The stone fit easily in one’s
palm and she used it to hold papers in place.

Fleur
 
"Do you live here 'Vinia?"


Lavinia chuckled. “Pretty much, Fleur,” she answered. It was
true. Although she had a bare bones room in the Roman
quarters, the head of the infirmary spent little time there.
Most nights she would catch what sleep she could in one of the
empty patient rooms. All her important papers and documents,
her books and records were here in her office, her true
retreat from the chaos that the infirmary could become.

“Now we’re ready for the inventory,” Lavinia said. She and
Fleur walked the short distance to Lavinia’s private storage
room, where she had earlier gotten the distilled spirits for
Bors. The door that she opened let in enough light to see the
shelves stacked with supplies. “See that bottom shelf, Fleur?”
She pointed to an area just inches above the wooden floor. “I
can get down there, but I’m not sure my creaky old bones would
ever get me back up. If you crawl down on that shelf and count
out for me how many rolls of bandages there are, we can have
this inventory all finished properly.” Lavinia didn’t know if
Fleur would be willing to tackle the chore or not. She thought
that she’d better lay the hazards on the line right up front
before sending the child on the mission. “Take this rock with
you. I think there might be some spiders down there. You can
squash them with the rock.” Lavinia wasn’t above carrying the
rock herself for that very purpose when rummaging around in
dark closets.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Mon Jun 23, 2008 8:18 pm
Vanora


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.”


Vanora raised an eyebrow at the news of a new soldier at the
fort, though the circumstances surrounding the loss of the new
soldier's old outfit at the hands of the Saxon's made her feel
for him. She took two mugs and filled them with ale and handed
them to the waiting wench before turning back to Gawain and
Neeve. She waited to see Neeve's reaction to the fact that
this soldier knew a bit of skills a medicus would
have....which to Vanora was a bit strange, but this Brendyn
fellow had appearently done a good job setting Gawain's arm.
"Can't wait to meet this Brendyn." That was all she said as
she returned to what he was telling Neeve. Vanora could only
give a knowing nod. It was true, whether other healers wanted
to believe it or not, but the nun's had little love for the
Sarmatians. It was rare that a knight would even consider
going to the infirmary unless they had no other choice....

Vanora was surprised that Bors had gone there, but then, his
leg had not looked that great. She remained quiet while Gawain
talked to Neeve, nodding every once in a while, and smiling.
After all of the bad things that had happened, she relished
the conversation....

Neeve
 
“Ah, it’s a shame I missed that…” “…I’m glad to see
Lavinia left you alive though…” “But if you want to have
a look at your arm, too…let me know, okay?”


Vanora had to chuckle a bit concerning the healer's reply.
Lavina was not known for her bedside manners, and she had
heard that the nun could be a bit brusque at times. She cocked
her head to one side and said, "Doesn't hurt to have a second
opinion, Gawain...at least if it bothers you at all.'' Vanora
liked Neeve simply because she was a thorough healer, one who
made sure things were done right the first time....plus all
eight of her children liked Neeve as well....

At that moment, a noise across the tavern room broke her
thoughts, and followed Neeve's gaze to where young Galahad was
appearently drunk and lying on the floor with Alina trying to
assisst the knight. Vanora shook her head wondering what
Gawain would do as the two were friends. What Gawain did next
sort of surprised the red head, and she looked from Gawain to
Neeve...

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


Neeve
 
“Hm?” “Oh that…well, actually…you can…” “We should hurry
and deliver this before it gets cold…”


Turning her gaze from the scene and back to Neeve and Gawain,
Vanora nodded, "Oh by all means before it all gets cold...stew
is reheatable though and so is the bread...." Canting a gaze
over to the area where Galahad, Alina, and now Kolya were,
Vanora muttered, 'Wonder how in the hell I am going to take
care of this?' Out loud she said, "Best not be late for your
appointment Neeve. Thank you for the conversation both of you.
Best I have had all day so far..." She gave them both a smile,
and watched as they prepared to leave....
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Mon Jun 23, 2008 9:05 pm
Linnesse


Derfel
 
“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?”


“Yes, that sounds good,” Linnesse agreed, turning her face
toward Derfel’s shoulder and resting her forehead against him
momentarily, taking a deep breath of the scent of him as
though she drew strength from it, too. Actually, she did- and
she always had. Her arm slipped around his waist, holding him
close to her, and she took another deep breath. They could do
this- they had to. And she would do her best to get through to
Linnette somehow- to help her. She had to remember that her
sister was not herself right now- not at all her usual
confident, implacable self.

“I’m glad you’re here, love. And thank you for agreeing to
share, too- I think it will work out for the best,” she
murmured, her lips nearly against his neck as she spoke. As
she fell silent, though, a shout and some sort of commotion
came dimly from the courtyard, and Linnesse tensed and looked
up at Derfel anxiously to see what he thought of it. It wasn’t
another attack- was it? Linnesse wasn’t sure what to think-
and she knew even less what to think when Galahad, making his
lurching way out the door, followed closely by the pleading
Alina, was suddenly confronted by another man in the tavern
doorway- and punched him, full in the face. Linnesse jumped
and her arm tightened spasmodically around Derfel’s waist. So
now they were to have an attack and a barfight, too? Maybe
Linnette had a point.











Quintus

Lancelot
 
"What's all the kerfuffle, my fine friend? Lost someone
important, have we?"


“The Woad bitch- the little one. Killed one of my men!”
Quintus snarled the words at the First Knight, only
half-turning toward him before shouting an order to the
handful of men who had gathered- none of them including the
two who had been on guard at the dungeon entrance. Where the
hell were they? Had the devil girl managed to kill them,
too…and make their bodies disappear?

“Look for her- search in pairs, she’s dangerous. And where the
fuck are the entrance guards?” Quintus got nothing but blank
looks from the men- no one seemed to have seen them. When
Quintus snarled an impatient encouragement, though, they began
to spread out into their search pattern- well, at least until
some of them were distracted by the sudden development of a
fight on the tavern steps.

Had all hell broken loose today? Quintus nearly ground his teeth with frustration, but saw a possible solution to the problem when he recognized the man who had just taken a swing as Galahad.

“If you could keep your man from killing anyone, I’d be
obliged, Lancelot,” he suggested to the First Knight, his tone
as courteous as he could manage under the circumstances. The
Sarmatians normally fell totally outside his scope of
authority, so it wasn’t quite an order- but if Lancelot could
handle that, then Quintus could concentrate on finding the
Woad creature without dodging punches and flying bodies. And
where the fuck were those men???













Linnette

The bar holding the wall hanging was stuck in its brackets.
Linnette, having already thrown her clothes into a bag, was
now standing on the bed, Gedeon’s saddlebags- of which she
could not help but be aware- at her feet, tugging on the bar
to try to get it out of its holders, and the thing wouldn’t
budge. Of course, it didn’t help that she couldn’t really use
her hands as well as she should be able to. The bar was just
supposed to lift out of the brackets, though it was a tight
fit so that it would be hard to knock loose accidentally, but
Linnette had had to stop using her left hand to push up on it
after the first try- it was too painful. So there she was,
pushing up on the five-feet-long bar with one hand and the
other elbow, awkwardly hitched up there to try to provide some
extra motive force- and the bar wasn’t going anywhere.

She blew out an exasperated breath, blew an errant strand of
hair out of her eyes, and took a step backward on the bed,
staring at the hanging in frustration. It was a beautiful
tapestry, the only thing of value that she had taken for her
use from the Villa Rosarum after they had freed it from Rufus-
but right now she just wanted it off her wall, and it wasn’t
cooperating. At her wits’ end, she stepped forward again and
once more, with one hand and her shoulder, this time, tried to
push the bar free, without success.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Mon Jun 23, 2008 9:23 pm
Brendyn


Brendyn was really beginning to hate the day. To be honest, he
was praying for some excitment, and it came in the sound of a
voice shouting that a prisoner had escaped! What the hell had
happened? Brendyn did not hesitate,but cast a glance at the
servant who looked alarmed.

The young soldier dropped the scrub brush and raced out toward
the courtyard not far off. Okay, so he smelled like shit, but
if no one responded, he'd be needed...

Ahead,he saw Quintus and Lancelot. Bren kept his distance, but
was now close enough to address them, "sir I heard you call
out an alarm. What are your orders?"
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: linnet
Date: Mon Jun 23, 2008 9:23 pm

Juna


Nolan and the wild-looking woman and the selected men moved
off, back the way they had all come. Juna felt a touch of hope
when Merlin didn’t go with them. Instead he hurried back
toward her. Maybe the trouble wasn’t as serious as she’d
dreaded. Something Nolan could take care of without Merlin
putting himself in danger. But as soon as she was able to
clearly see his face, her short-lived hope crumbled. Worry
filled his eyes, and he was frowning at her. His body was
tensed, impatient. She met his eyes and held the contact, her
own expression questioning for understanding of what was
happening.

Merlin
 
“Juna…four men have ridden from the fort to the camp,
and they have Neeria with them. You must hurry.”


The implications didn’t really register with Juna, other than
confusion as to why only four men should cause such seeming
panic. Even if Neeria was leading them to the village, why
couldn’t Nolan’s warriors kill all five and be done with it?
But as soon as she thought that, she realized the Romans would
look for and avenge those that they killed. The cycle of death
would go on. And in their current weakened state, the Woads
could conceivably be wiped out completely.

“And what will you do?” Juna asked. She didn’t mean how would
the situation be met? She meant where would he be? She needed
to be reassured that he would stay out of harm, but she knew
better than to expect that. She looked at him with sadness and
concern. “Don’t let it start,” she said quietly, and moved to
lay her forehead gently against his shoulder for a moment. Her
words were softly beseeching, both to Merlin, and to the gods
who wouldn’t give him respite.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: sabor ice
Date: Tue Jun 24, 2008 2:05 am
Ash


Ash waited at the mouth of the cell as Eala disappeared back
inside a moment. His breathing was slightly erratic,
shuddering sounds escaping his lips. Only when the girl looked
away to collect something did he allow himself a moment to
unravel, his features contorting into a mask of agony. The
scuffle with the burly soldier had been a brief, unscathed
enterprise, yet his re-opened flank wound had not sat in
agreement with the strain it had caused him. He was otherwise
composed, nothing in his demeanor signifying even a hint of
vulnerability. Ash was a seasoned warrior who had no time or
patience for weakness.

He managed a smirk when Eala revealed the contents of the
doll, some sort of knife. Clever, little Eala. Without
preamble, the Woad grabbed onto the girl's hand and toted her
in the direction he had come.

Eala
 
"D.. nnn! aww Dnnn!"


They had managed to spring back toward the shadows of the wall
behind the dungeons before Ash noticed Eala lagging behind. He
whirled around, brow puckered in questioning of her sudden
reluctance. He slapped his thigh, before throwing her an
irritated gesture of his hand.

"What are you doing?" he questioned, tossing her a suffering
look. Had he not explained inside that they had to hurry?

A call to arms in the distance made the man's head snap up in
attention, and he growled under his breath. Someone had
already discovered Eala had escaped. They were searching, and
they were close. It would only be a matter of time before he
and the girl were discovered. This delay would be detrimental
to their escape if he did not act quickly.

"Come!" Ash exclaimed in a hushed tone, ignoring Eala's
incoherent protests as he took a firm hold of one of her
wrists and forcibly dragged her along toward the side gate.









Milan

Mari
 
"Well... it's not as good as I thought it would be, but
it's not as bad as it could be, right? We could ... we
could fix it up a little, couldn't we? Fix the roof for
a start... get rid of all this..Do you really want to do
this with me Milan? To fix here for us to live? Tell me
that you do - say it...?"


Milan saw nothing promising of the run-down cottage. Unlike
Mari, he could not picture what was beyond his own eyes. He
thought logically. He did not dream of the future, of things
that could be, not like she could. She carried with her
unfailing hope and determination - attributes Milan admired of
her even more because he could never truly seem to grasp them
himself. Not to mention beyond a roof, a floor, four walls,
and a door, Milan could make no sense of what a home was to
look like. He had never had a place to call his own, and he
certainly had never had a life to share with someone.
Everything seemed so surreal.

He gave a soft groan as she threw herself into him, fervently
wrapping her arms about his waist and peering up at him with
soulful brown eyes. He lightly wrapped his arms around her
slight form, chuckling softly at her seemingly uncontainable
enthusiasm. It pleased Milan to see her smiling, and he would
have no part in destroying her excitement with negativity.
Nothing made him happier than knowing she was happy.

The only problem was that this entire notion about fixing up
the cottage for them to live in seemed utterly unattainable on
their own. It took time and skill to achieve such things. Time
he had, but skill? The young man had never picked up a hammer
in his life. He wanted to ask her how they were to go about
this, but quickly pressed his lips into a pensive line when he
noticed the eagerness for his approval written across her
pretty face. How could he possibly be pessimistic when she
looked at him like that?

He blew out a defeated sigh through his nostrils and nodded
once, flashing her an encouraging smile. Removing one hand
from her back, he gestured with it palm up to a damaged corner
of the room; his other arm wrapped around her shoulders.

"Tell...m..me," Milan requested, hoping to fuel her optimism
by allowing her to detail to him how the room would someday
look.









Cáel

Darya
 
“That way...I’m…I’m sorry…for your loss…and I hope the
children are alright. What were their names again?”


Oh, he was in mourning alright, just not for the reasons that
were expected of him. Some poor woman had died from Gods knew
what, and yet Cáel acted mortally wounded. Such offending news
left him feeling a bit sorry for himself, pathetically
dragging his carcass in the direction of the infirmary
alongside Darya. He did not see the damp Earth below his feet.
Instead he saw coins as big as saucers, disappearing one by
one as he moved forward. For a moment he considered the
hallucination, pausing in mid-step just to see if the
saucer-sized coin would remain for the taking should he not
step there. It vanished anyway, and the man very nearly choked
out a sob, until he remembered he was not without company.

Cáel composed himself and wallowed onward, his features
somber. He looked a sorry remnant of the man he had been just
earlier in the tavern, brow creased with worry lines and eyes
distant. There was a commotion of sorts - soldiers yelling and
scurrying about - but he paid no mind. The man was
pre-occupied doing damage control should he discover the
children were deceased as well. He was not in the mood for
being an intellectual, and thankfully his current female
companion spoke only briefly.

"Fleur...and Cassidy..." he replied dismally, glowering.

He paused on the steps of the infirmary, turning toward the
dark-haired woman. He took one of three finely engraved rings
from his hand and placed it in her palm. Even in the course of
probable failure, he could not afford to tarnish his false
image as a good, generous man, especially if he were to remain
longer than planned at this fort. Trust was necessary.

"A gift for your troubles. Now, I must go on alone," Cáel told
Darya, a weak attempt at a smile playing across his lips. With
that, he disappeared inside of the infirmary.









Fleur

Mother Lavinia
 
“Now we’re ready for the inventory, See that bottom
shelf, Fleur? I can get down there, but I’m not sure my
creaky old bones would ever get me back up. If you crawl
down on that shelf and count out for me how many rolls
of bandages there are, we can have this inventory all
finished properly. Take this rock with you. I think
there might be some spiders down there. You can squash
them with the rock.”


Fleur really was the perfect student. She listened attentively
and took direction well, voiced her curiosities, but never
questioned reason. She toddled after Lavinia into another
room, filled with shelves stocked high. The little girl's eyes
bugged staring all the way up toward the top shelf. Her
concentration broke when Lavinia skirted by her, hefting her
ledger and paper weight. Fleur glanced between the woman and
the bottom shelf as she explained the task at hand. She
willingly took the small rock offered by the healer, molding
it around in her little hands as she listened to what it's use
was.

All eagerness to help flooded from the girl's face. Fleur went
wide-eyed at Lavinia's suggestion to use the rock to rid
offending spiders from the premise of the bottom shelf.

"Squash them?!" the blonde gasped, clearly mortified by the
very idea. She pouted, disappointed that Lavinia thought so
little of the eight-legged creatures. "Poor little things.
What'd they ever do to you?"

She huffed audibly, handing the rock back to the old healer,
before sinking to her hands and knees on the floor. There was
no mindfulness of her new dress the way the tyke flopped onto
her belly for better view of the bottom shelf. She rested the
ball of her chin against one forearm, gesturing with a finger
on her other hand to the product she silently counted. Some
time later, the girl climbed to her feet and lifted her face
proudly at her accomplishment.

"Thirty!" she declared. Truthfully, it may have been more, but
Fleur knew how to count no higher. "Did I do good, 'Vinia?"









Alina

Kolya
 
"Hello love..I guess this means he knows then eh? Now,
lad, listen..."


Alina froze. Her lips parted but no words escaped as she
stared incredulously at Kolya, who was now standing opposite
Galahad between them. Her jaw almost creaked at his
implication. His over-confidence was disgusting, and his
impeccable timing was beginning to gnaw viciously at her
nerves. It was utterly amazing how with but a word or smile
Kolya could bring out the worst in Alina. She firmly believed
his bravado was aimed simply to irritate her.

Palpable tension was rolling off the younger knight's
shoulders in waves by this point. The woman gave a start when
Galahad unceremoniously lunged for the other man. Kolya caught
him when he missed, and for a brief moment it seemed as if the
drunkenness might've finally overwhelmed Galahad to a point of
relative defenselessness. Alina bravely stepped outside after
them, determined to place herself between them to halt anymore
foolish advantages, when Galahad abruptly exploded. The healer
ducked back in the nick of time, palm against a post, watching
with a mortified expression as the two men began to brawl.

This wasn't happening. Why was this happening? This wasn't
what she had wanted.

She had to look away, unable to speculate the brutal scene
unraveling before her. She wrapped her arms about her body
shaking with dry sobs, as she attempted to hold herself
together. The sounds of punches landing and agonized groans
was enough to make her feel physically ill. They were acting
like savage animals unleashed, and for what? No good would
come of this. It was a hopeless situation.

"I'm not worth it...please...it's not worth it..." Alina
pleaded quietly, shaking her head sadly.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Tue Jun 24, 2008 7:38 am
Merlin


Juna
 
“And what will you do? Don’t let it start.”


"I don't want to," Merlin murmurred softly, bringing up his
hands to lay on Juna's back and comfort her. She was worried-
terribly worried, and with reason. His people were in a
vulnerable position- but with the luck of the Gods they could
get out of it. He hoped.

"I'm going to take a smaller group and follow Nolan's- it's
possible they just want to negotiate. We'll find out." Merlin
kept his tone firm, trying to be reassuring. He was taking all
the necessary steps to keep everyone safe- he was doing all he
could. And no one knew what the four riders wanted, yet. With
such a small group, it was clearly not an all-out attack- yet.
Merlin took a step backwards so that he could look into Juna's
eyes, and slid his hands to her shoulders in a stern, rather
paternal gesture.

"You should get to safety," he told her, in a voice that
brooked no argument.
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golden_trillium

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Author: Lancelot
Date: Tue Jun 24, 2008 7:43 am

Lancelot


The first knight grinned; his teeth flashing white through the
grit on his face. He touched his jacket pocket to make sure
his 'new' dirk was there - not that he'd use a knife on
fucking Galahad, but....well, only if he had to. Perhaps just
to clonk the pup on the head with. He laughed to himself as he
watched the young knight brawl with the older one. Galahad
stood no chance.

Quintus
 
“If you could keep your man from killing anyone, I’d be
obliged, Lancelot,”


Lancelot had no idea how the centurion knew his name - he'd
never spoken to him - but then again, he was the First Knight.
He nodded and bowed deeply to the Roman - his face was still
stretched in a grin - and without a word, turned to the tavern
and the scene going on there.

"Galahad! Pretending you can win a match again!" he shouted as
he approached where the two men were scuffling. He took note
of the girl that was usually with Galahad hiding behind a
post; her expression was pure misery and for a moment,
Lancelot felt a flash of anger as he wondered just who else in
this shit hole was having a bad day. Or a bad life, as his
case may be. "Lady - you'd best move," he murmured, touching
her arm. "Don't get in the way of flailing idiotic Sarmatians
- they'll take you down just as fast as you can say - Pup!
Stop!"

He sighed, his hand held out, and put himself in the way of
the others, his body tense and ready for whatever he'd have to
do to stop the fight. The older Sarmatian....Kolya, it was,
seemed to be handling himself easily, but Galahad was drunk
and unless you were Lancelot, it wasn't easy to fight while in
your cups.

"Galahad - what in the bloody fuck are you doing - "

Despite his exhaustion and anger and worry about Arthur Arthur
Arthur bloody Arthur - always and forever Arthur and
everything else, Lancelot found his smile did not go away.
There was not much better than a good brawl for clearing the
head, even if one did not start it.

One could try and finish it, after all.
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golden_trillium

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Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Tue Jun 24, 2008 7:52 am

Arthur


Eyla seemed to look at Arthur as if he were a prized stallion
to be had if only for riding at her pleasure. He had felt that
way before – recently with one other who strived to possess
the Roman. And for a moment, Arthur truly wished that he had
no injury to deal with if only to teach the harlot a lesson on
possession. His green eyes ticked beyond Eyla to the table
where Lancelot had possessed Arthur last….what would it have
felt like to reverse that moment with Eyla….the ever so
willing woman now holding Arthur’s hand. Would it free Arthur
from the memory? Did he truly wish to forget? No. Never.

Once again my thoughts have fallen to what was before. Why
must he continue to torment me so? God and duty must come
first and foremost in my life. Not love and certainly not
possession. I must repent for my sins, not commit further acts
of heresy….with either of them.

Eyla
 
“I persist because you are unhappy.”


Unhappy. That was an understatement.

No, Eyla persisted because she obviously enjoyed the ‘game’.
That was clear enough for Arthur. His emerald eyes easily held
her dark gaze as Arthur scrutinized her further…he noted how
long her lashes were that perfectly framed her eyes….regarded
her tiny fingers as they languidly toyed with a long strand of
her curly dark hair…remembered tasting the sweetness of her
full lips as she began to speak again. Oh Arthur had not
forgotten their one night of shared ‘want’. He had not
forgotten any detail of how it had felt to touch
her….especially in retribution for having found them together.
But that was in the past and Arthur had forgiven them
both…hadn’t he? A throb in the steady dull pain in the
Commander’s side diverted him yet again….distracted him from
troublesome thoughts on possession. And the term ‘unhappy’ was
most definitely too frivolous a word to describe how Arthur
felt.

Eyla
 
“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…or I could simply make you
forget what causes that deep frown of yours. You are too
handsome for frowning…hmm…”


And there it was…a flash of vulnerability…albeit fleeting as
it wisped across her delicate features. And in that moment
Arthur found Eyla far more beautiful than when she was
occupied with her games of seduction. She had turned her gaze
towards the fire and Arthur now saw a flickering of orange
reflected in her dark eyes. A small and genuine smile tugged
at the corner of his mouth as he watched her for a moment
longer unimpeded. Eyla’s skin was golden in color, a complete
contrast to theirs, but nearly as soft as Darya’s to the
touch. But the moment Arthur realized that he was comparing
his lover(s) to the seductress before him…he silently chided
himself for it and audibly sighed.

“I have no doubt that you could pleasure me well, Eyla….but
only for a price, hm? And perhaps at a cost beyond my means,”
Arthur murmured; his expression softened with his words and
his emerald gaze turned towards the hearth as well. The cost
he referred to was not coin, but something intangible and
something Arthur was unwilling to pay. However, Arthur gave
Eyla’s fingers a small squeeze in silent gratitude for the
distraction of her presence and wordplay. If…if….Arthur had
allowed himself to accept what Eyla offered, he knew that he’d
spend hours…days….in the chapel prostrated before the altar in
penitence for his sins.

“What is it that you aspire to become, Eyla?” Arthur asked out
of genuine curiosity; his green eyes drawn to a dark ringlet
of her hair where it lay over her generous bosom.

“Obviously not a chambermaid,” He added dryly and allowed a
small smile that did not reach his eyes.
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golden_trillium

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Author: TwistOfShadows
Date: Tue Jun 24, 2008 8:30 am

Nolan and Ceinwyn


The sun had risen in the East this morning, and the horizon
tinged with a paler gray. It was not a pleasant day; it was
bleak in this area of the woodland. Nolan maneuvered himself
silently through the trees, finding safe footing upon sturdy
branches. The leaves whispered around him, eavesdropping, and
there was a biting wind in the air. It bit hard against his
blue cheeks, and stung at his fingertips. The Woad watched as
his small army dropped from their branches, and started
covering their people’s tracks. Indeed, their path was not
obvious, but he would risk nothing. They had lost far too many
warriors already, and Nolan was not prepared to lose more.
There would be another battle, surely, and his people needed
time to recover their strengths…and heal their wounds. The
green-eyed warrior climbed down from his tree, swinging from a
higher branch and landing with a thump. His bloodied hands
rested upon his daggers, and he looked through the foliage.
His eyes glared through it, seeking the slightest flash of
colour, the briefest hint of movement in the undergrowth.
Nolan did not trust the Romans…and he trusted the Sarmatians
less. They were more adept at disguise, and did not appear
quite so dazzling in the dull woodland…and they fought for
nothing. This was their bigger threat. They did not fear
death…

Nolan turned back to his army, momentarily content with their
surroundings. His booted feet trudged through the undergrowth,
but he barely made a sound. There was a quiet snap of twig,
and a pebble that had become dislodged... Another strong wind
blew, causing a ripple of movement above them. Nolan paused to
watch it, his jaw tightening into a hard and aggressive line.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a smear of blood upon
a group of fern leaves. It dribbled down the plant, and Nolan
reached outwards sharply, snatching the leaves from their
stalks. They would leave nothing to suggest their
whereabouts…nothing…

Ceinwyn moved as silently as he, but she watched Nolan
carefully, barely concentrating on the task in hand. The Woad
woman did not trust him to keep her closeby. She expected to
be abandoned, and then murdered. Oh, how easy it would be!
Nolan could simply claim that she had been a ’loss’ and surely
Merlin would not question him? Ceinwyn pressed her dirty hands
against a dry tree trunk, and looked through the trees. Her
eyes burnt with a fiery luster, and the wind caught at her
matted hair, whipping it outwards around her face. She
appeared quite foreboding, almost maddened, and she was
reeling with intent and purpose. Her bright auburn hair was
now dry and matted with mud and blood; she appeared stealthy
and disguised amongst the brown and green foliage…

The party moved onwards, climbing back into the trees to keep
a weather eye for horses. Indeed, Nolan expected to catch the
enemy far sooner than they did. It was relief that they had
not discovered their tracks…and yet, something worried the
warrior. Surely they moved quicker on horses? Woads were fast
and skilled at moving through the trees, but on horseback? The
enemy was at an advantage. What had distracted them? Nolan
frowned darkly, growing ever more cautious of their
surroundings. This was strange. With an impatient gesture of
his hand, he called the party closer together.

And then they found them.

There was a clearing not far ahead, where Nolan had witnessed
the rescue party remaining to offer aid for the returning
Woads. It was a small area, opening outwards and surrounded by
thick trees and bushes…and it usually had a lookout. Nolan
slowed his pace through the trees, gesturing for the others to
follow his lead. The warrior sought out any movement; any sign
of a Woad keeping watch…but there was none. Nolan’s jaw
hardened visibly, and he gritted his teeth. Something was not
right, not right at all…

And then he heard it. It was the quiet chink of bridles and
saddlery, and a murmur of low voices in the clearing. Nolan
did not recognize the tongue as his own…it lacked the
complexity of the Woad dialect. The Woad slowed his pace,
dropping lower in the trees but not onto the ground. He
gestured for his party to separate around the clearing, and
then approached it himself. He climbed down one branch in his
tree, enough to see clearly towards the hut without being
spotted…

There was a group of horses, and two riders. Nolan’s eyes
glared through the leaves, and he lifted one hand to a branch,
bracing himself for a clearer look. Neeria. He recognized her
dark hair, her coltish and petulant air…and she rode alone. A
traitor. If she was a hostage, she would not be trusted on her
own horse. That was certain. Nolan glanced further upwards,
spying the Roman sat beside her. He was a tall man, but not
truly a threat. The other two empty horses suggested other
riders in the hut…but who? Nolan climbed higher for a moment,
ready to scan the surrounding ground…and then he saw it. A
beheaded Woad lying dead on the ground. The warrior’s fingers
clenched harder around the branch, and he growled a low breath
in his throat…

Murderers…

On the trees either side of him, the Woads drew their bows and
arrows slowly from their shoulders. They were readying
themselves for an ambush, and Nolan nodded a silent approval.
Would they approach them now? Would they kill Neeria and her
companion first? Nolan knew what he preferred, but then he
also remembered Merlin’s orders. He had to offer the choice of
speech, negotiation. Muttering a low growl of discontent,
Nolan gestured for ten Woads to follow him onto the
ground…they dropped silently into the undergrowth, ducking low
and out of sight.

Nolan lifted his hand to his comrades in the trees, and then
gave his consent. Within a matter of seconds, eight arrows had
been fired towards the pair at the hut. He heard the whistle
of wood, the thump of arrowhead…one landed cleanly at the feet
of the Roman’s horse, barely missing a fatal blow in the
horse’s side…

The attack had begun. Without hesitation, Nolan and his party
rushed forwards into the clearing. It took merely seconds to
surround the Roman’s horse…and as for Neeria? Nolan turned his
attention towards the treacherous bitch. Steering clear of her
horse, he grabbed her sharply by her foot…and dragged her from
her horse. It was a harsh and aggressive movement, and one
charged with hatred and impatience. Nolan was a strong
warrior, strong and far bigger than the Woad woman…
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golden_trillium

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Author: golden_trillium
Date: Tue Jun 24, 2008 8:57 am
Quintus


The First Knight bowed, a rather ironic grin on his face, and
dashed off to see about the fight- now there was a man who
loved a scrap. Quintus knew well Lancelot’s reputation for
getting into trouble, but here, it would probably come in
handy. As Lancelot dashed off and various soldiers raced this
way and that, searching and organizing the search and
spreading the alarm, another figure approached the Centurion-
or actually, his smell rather preceded him. It was the new
man, Brendyn, and by the looks looks and odor of things, he
had been assigned to a rather unpleasant job this day. No
matter- no sign of the girl had turned up yet, and if Brendyn
could search, that was all that mattered.

Brendyn
 
”Sir, I heard you call out an alarm. What are your
orders?"


Bloody educated talk! Quintus nearly scoffed at the clipped,
precise phrases the man used, even in a madhouse like this,
but instead he merely growled out an explanation of the uproar
and instructions.

“Bloody Woad banned escaped- the little one.” He held up his
hand illustratively, indicating the girl’s approximate height
from the ground. “Look for her, but be careful- she’s killed
one already. Where the bloody fuck have you been???!!” That
last was aimed not at Brendyn, but at the two prison entrance
guards, who now emerged from an alleyway, looking rather
confused. The jogged over to Quintus and snapped to attention,
and one of the men began to stammer out an explanation- one
which made no sense.

“Sir, there was this girl, you see, and…”

“Of course there was a bloody girl!” Quintus roared. “She was
a prisoner, damn it! She escaped, and you two useless…”

“No, no, sir, not that girl at all, sir, another one, one what
I’ve seen around the fort, she said her sister was being
attacked and we had to help, so we went with her and there was
no…”

“Enough! We’ll sort this out later- you two get the hell back
to your posts and stay there! You haven’t heard the last of
this!” Quintus really didn’t want to hear more stories about
bloody mysterious girls right now, though at the back of his
mind the thought began to nag him, persistently and
disturbingly- what if it was not a coincidence? What if the
Woad prisoner- God forbid- had had help?
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golden_trillium

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Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Tue Jun 24, 2008 9:20 am

Derfel


Linnesse
 
“Yes, that sounds good,”


Derfel welcomed Linnesse’s embrace and gave her another
affectionate kiss on the crown of her head while she pressed
even tighter against him. Gods, how sweet her hair smelled.
Derfel could not imagine the pain he’d suffer should he lose
Linnesse as Linnette had lost Gedeon. The death of his father
(even before his own eyes) could not compare, even though it
still ached deep within Derfel’s heart. Gedeon’s death had
also left a terrible hurt on the young knight….but if
something should happen to Linnesse…well, Derfel simply would
not survive it. Recent times had brought on far too much pain
and loss. Surely things could get no worse.

Linnesse
 
“I’m glad you’re here, love. And thank you for agreeing
to share, too- I think it will work out for the best,”


A small sigh of acceptance escaped him as Derfel slowly rubbed
a hand over Linnesse’s back.

“It has to, luv,” He murmured against the side of her head
until a few shouts from outside broke the relative lull in the
noises within the tavern. Derfel’s gaze immediately snapped
towards the door. He saw Galahad fling open the door with
Alina on his heels….and then someone hit the Sarmatian??
Derfel’s mouth gaped open in surprise. He felt Linnesse flinch
in his arms and immediately tightened his hold on her in
support. Someone was clearly shouting in the courtyard, but
Derfel could not see beyond Galahad and his supposed
assailant.

“I’d best have a look, luv…something’s going on out there…”
Derfel said rather tensely and began to release his hold on
Linnesse. He was torn though, not wanting to leave his lover
unattended and unprotected should it be real danger outside
that door. However, what if this was more than a mere squabble
among drunken men? Derfel’s concerned gaze briefly ticked to
Lucius in hopes that he’d have his friend’s support if need
be.
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golden_trillium

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Author: TwistOfShadows
Date: Tue Jun 24, 2008 10:23 am
Eyla


Oh, but Artorius was the prized stallion! He was the most
noble and richest man in the fortress, and that appealed to
Eyla. The whore was not born for lowly men; she was blessed
with an exotic beauty that captured attention, and won
affection as quickly as she disregarded it. It was true, the
Roman Commander was not like other men, and Eyla found it both
infuriating and amusing. He was a male with a conscience, and
that eluded the young woman. Surely a conscience made life
quite boring? Surely the binds of religion meant that Artorius
had never sought pleasure in his life? It was a shame, because
he was handsome man. The Roman could have kept her as his
regular harlot, and Eyla would have pushed his body into the
sweetest plethora of pleasure! He would have wanted for no
other woman…but then, Eyla did have a tendency to grow bored
and impatient. The whore was used to getting what she sought,
because no-one denied the beautiful. Hers was a life of
comfort and amusement…what more did she want? Nothing. She did
not seek status like most women, nor did she seek protection.
She found solace in her quiet happiness, and she was content
with it…

Yes, she was content with her games of flirtation and
seduction. She did not care about those that judged her,
because they were dull…and clearly in dire need of an adept
prostitute…

The woman was not truly vulnerable, but she had her moments.
Eyla had suffered for her mother’s talent for thievery, but
she did not talk about it. She did not dwell on it, because
she had no patience for self-pity. Her mother had stolen an
expensive bracelet from her Roman Lady, and placed the blame
upon Eyla. Oh the woman had been beaten and raped for it…but
she had learned from it. The harlot did not trust others, and
she kept herself happy. She needed no-one else. And where was
her mother now? Probably still stealing the same trinkets, and
blaming other fragile chambermaids. Eyla did not resent her,
but was rather amused by it. Did her mother make as much coin
as she? Eyla highly doubted it…

Eyla felt Arthur’s eyes on her beautiful profile, and smiled
lazily. Her lips slipped into the most feline and pretty
smile, and she parted her mouth for his pleasure. Her bottom
lip was stained rouged, and soft to touch and kiss. Her long
eyelashes appeared thick from this angle, brushing delicately
against her cheekbones. The woman’s skin was shadowed from the
fire, but it bestowed a certain grace and enigma. The golden
bangle on her arm glittered vehemently against her tanned
skin, almost stealing attention away from her feminine
features…almost…

She noticed his smile, but did not fully understand it. She
assumed it was due to her beauty, but no…it was her fragility
that attracted him. Eyla would never understand it. Weakness
was not truly attractive, was it?

Arthur
 
“I have no doubt that you could pleasure me well,
Eyla….but only for a price, hm? And perhaps at a cost
beyond my means,”


The Roman’s words were full of meaning, and Eyla recognized
the weight of their truth. She did not fully understand what
troubled him, but she knew it plagued his conscience. Turning
slowly to look at him, she continued to smile. It was a gentle
and understanding thing, and could almost be confused with
affection. Her dark eyes seemed quite soft now, no longer
piercing or mischievous in perusal. No, Eyla seemed less
threatening now, and it seemed to suit Arthur’s mood better.
Her dark hair curled beautifully over her shoulders, and she
continued to twist it around her fingers. Oh, but Eyla could
appear so delicate. She would stand helpless against the
physical wrath of any man…but her spirit was evident in her
eyes. A talent for survival…

When he squeezed her small fingers, Eyla stroked her thumb
over the strong line of his knuckles. Arthur could afford her,
but she did not speak it. The Roman knew his wealth, and he
knew her worth…

Arthur
 
“What is it that you aspire to become, Eyla? Obviously
not a chambermaid,”


Oh, but it was a strange question, and Eyla laughed gently.
She noticed his green eyes drawn to her bosom…and arched her
back subtly. It seemed the Roman was more admiring of her
beauty when they spoke of silly things…but Eyla would humour
him. For now. She shook her head, and felt her hair shift
delectably around her shoulders. What did she aspire to be?
Eyla aspired to be herself, and only that. She was not foolish
enough to have dreams…

“Aspirations are for people who have the power to excel in
specific talents…” Eyla’s eyes glittered as she spoke, and she
smiled softly at him. Eyla had specific talents, but she was
not sure they suited any aspiration. Breathing a gentle laugh
from her lips, she continued. “I have never aspired to be
anything other than myself…and it suits me well. I’m never
disappointed…” Eyla was not lying; she enjoyed her life and
being a wanton harlot. She did not have much patience for
dignity…or the traditional female skills for sewing…or
pottery…or cleaning. The woman wrinkled her nose at the
though, and crossed her legs again. A wide smile marked her
coltish mouth, and it was genuinely amused. “But no, I am not
well suited to honest work. It does not…disagree with me,
Artorius, despite your gorgeous efforts…”

Eyla winked one eye at him, and tickled his fingers playfully.

“And what of your aspirations, Artorius? Did you truly wish to
become such a somber and serious Commander?”

The harlot feigned a stressed frown, before bursting out
laughing….
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