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July 2008
Topic Started: Apr 3 2010, 09:33 PM (2,365 Views)
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Kay
Date: Thu Jul 03, 2008 6:46 am
Guinevere


Guinevere took a few steps back to look for Mona, and suddenly
her world erupted into a fury of violence and pain. The first
blow caught her completely off guard and before she could
recover, a hand grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her
down. Guinevere took a few seconds to register that it was
Mona who had attacked her; a thousand questions flashed
through her brain, but the princess pushed them away; this was
fight for survival; she saw Mona reach for a dagger and
instantly reacted, bringing up the heel of her palm hard under
the girl's chin and knocking her to the side.

Guinevere sprang to her feet, flinging the cloth from her head
to allow her better vision. Her hand reached into her clothing
and she drew out a long knife from it's hiding place. The
blade flashed as Guinevere struck out, catching Mona's right
wrist and causing the girl to drop her dagger.

"What do you think you're doing?" she spat angrily.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: TwistOfShadows
Date: Thu Jul 03, 2008 7:23 am
Eyla


Darya was quite pretty, but she embodied the insecurities of
every woman in this fortress. Eyla watched her with a quiet
and disguised interest, waiting for the next flicker of
suspicion to cross her eyes. The Sarmatian had been an
enjoyable patron, and Eyla quite liked her. Eyla, the harlot,
had bedded almost half of Badon, and she could remember every
patron, every weakness, every delightful preferred fetish.
Darya had been pleasured easily and without much hesitation on
her part. She had kissed gently, beautifully, and she had been
moist for the harlot. Eyla sat on the bed, and remembered
every detail. Her dark eyes sparkled beneath her thick
eyelashes, and her lips quirked in feline amusement. She
breathed gently and slowly, and her bosoms rose in her bodice
with each breath. Several dark curls twisted over her
shoulders, catching her silken skin and teasing it with
shadow. The firelight flickered shadows across her skin, and
caused her gold bangle to glitter vehemently. She was an
impressive sight, and she knew it. Eyla made her dull
surroundings seem…impressive. She was placed strategically on
his bed…and she was amused. Was Arthur embarrassed to be
caught sharing company with a prostitute? It mattered not.
Eyla was glad to be discovered in his company…it did wonders
for her reputation…

Arthur
 
”Eyla…”


Oh a growl! Eyla turned to Arthur and feigned innocence. Her
lips parted, and she fought back laughter. Why did everyone
take life so seriously? If Darya suspected them, then so be
it. Perhaps it would do wonders for their relationship? Surely
Darya would try harder in the bedroom now. She had
competition.

Arthur
 
“You are not interrupting anything at all, Darya, I
believe the two of you already know one another,”


Something clicked into place. Eyla’s smile did not disappear,
but suddenly she understood…everything. That night. Eyla had
shared Arthur’s bed on a stormy night, but he had interrogated
her first. The Roman had pushed for details of female lovers,
and Eyla had believed it to be a fetish, a personal pleasure.
But no? Perhaps there was a better reason for his pursued
interest? Eyla blinked lazily at the Sarmatian, smiling to
herself. If Arthur knew her moments with Darya, or even
suspected them…then he clearly did not like it. Ah, she was
not surprised. He was noble, and deeply Christian. Men like
Arthur did not share lovers, which was a damnable pity. He
could have anyone he wanted. He should merely flash a few
golden coins, and women would come flocking. Indeed, Darya was
a pleasant choice, but she was too nice. Too vulnerable to
emotion. Eyla fancied she could see Darya’s thoughts and
feeling reflected easily in her dark eyes…and it was not good.

Eyla watched Darya move towards the bed, but she did not sit
beside her. How rude….Eyla smiled…

Darya
 
“Yes, we have met… But what is even more important is
how you are doing… did you get some food by now?”


Darya looked at Eyla, and the whore merely smiled back. She
was not intimidated by the Sarmatian, it would take more than
sworn secrecy to keep her quiet. Eyla lifted a hand upwards,
and toyed with her hair again, lazily. She noticed Darya place
a hand protectively onto the Roman’s thigh, and she smirked
naughtily. Oh dear, Darya was suspicious, but she could not
play better than Eyla. The harlot did not draw attention to
the movement, but rather continued playing with her hair. She
lowered her eyes slowly, and viewed Arthur from underneath
thick eyelashes. Her lips parted in a flirtatious pout, and
she glanced sideways at Darya.

She spoke, immediately disregarding the woman’s speech to
Arthur.

“He is quite fine, beauty. He has been keeping the best
company…” Eyla purred, and her smile widened. Yes, she was
goading the dark Sarmatian…but then, it was her own fault. She
had been stupid enough to portray suspicion, and sowed the
seed for Eyla’s game. She looked intensively at Arthur, before
turning away slowly. A beautiful smile slipped across her
lips, and she lifted a finger to her bottom lip. She toyed
with it, lazily. Before speaking again. “You do not seem
pleased to see me, Darya. Have I offended you somehow hmm? I
thought we were on…good terms…” Eyla laughed lightly, before
finishing. “Forgive me, I am so rude. You two were talking…”

Oh it was brave, but she cared not. The woman continued to
pout mischievously, her eyes dazzling beneath thick eyelashes…
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Thu Jul 03, 2008 7:49 am
Merlin and Tristan


Amadeus
 
"I am in charge. My name is Amadeus Scipio, Optio of the
Roman Legion at Badon Hill, and I speak for Arthur
Castus. This woman has led us to this place and had made
a promise to lead us to Merlin in exchange for her life.
She is now yours to deal with as you see fit to deal
with any traitor found amongst you. Now…are you Merlin?"


“I am.” Merlin paused a moment, studying this Scipio, and
half-wondering if one of the other men was going to dispute
his being in charge, given the disagreements that Nolan had
mentioned. No one else spoke, though- the man who had
initially been standing in front of the hut merely stood
warily watching, as did the knight on the horse. The slave
scout, moving slowly and carefully, lowered his knife and
eased himself out from behind his tied-up captive, gave the
man a light push on the shoulder, indicating he should stay
there, and stepped just outside the doorway, somewhat to the
side, where he could keep an eye on both the interior and
exterior of the hut, but that was all. No dispute- so Scipio
was the one he was talking to, then.

And he was a proud man indeed. Proud, and haughty, his chin up
and his bearing aristocratic, thinking himself- and Rome-
master of all he surveyed here in this clearing. But Merlin
could sense uncertainty beneath the façade, and well the man
might be uncertain. He was no longer in Rome, nor any place
where Romans held sway. He was on Woad soil now, an alien
world to him, and he was at a disadvantage. Surely he knew
that, even if he never would have admitted it. The Woads could
kill all four men right now if they wanted to- but perhaps
they wouldn’t.

“I do find it curious, Amadeus Scipio-“ Merlin’s attitude was
casual, the name rolling easily off his tongue even though he
had never spoken it before- “that even after the traitor
Neeria has helped you, you discard her without a second
thought.” His eyes shifted to Neeria now, where she stood,
stiffly and defiantly near Nolan. “Did you think you would get
some reward out of this, live in luxury on Roman gold,
perhaps? It seems you overestimated their generosity.” The
question, though biting, was not rhetorical. He expected an
answer, expected her to unashamedly explain herself, as a true
Woad should. Woads did not cower and snivel and beg
forgiveness- when they had done wrong, they admitted it and
took the consequences. And to all appearances, Neeria had done
very, very wrong indeed.

As he was waiting for her to answer, though, Merlin's ears
caught a noise coming from the brush beyond the camp- some
distance away, he thought, and there were no voices, but
still, it sent the hair on the back of his neck prickling,
sent off soft alarms in his head- it seemed to him that the
noise was human, and that there was some sort of struggle
going on, a fight, even. The other Woads- and the Sarmatian
slave- had noticed it too, had subtly shifted their posture to
listen, while not relaxing their alertness toward the
happenings in the clearing.

Without removing more than a fraction of his attention from
Neeria, Merlin held up two fingers in Nolan's direction, and
then pointed in the direction of the sound, his meaning
silent, but obvious to his lieutenant. Send two to check it
out. It could be nothing- perhaps a couple of animals
scuffling. On other hand, something told Merlin it wasn't.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Darya
Date: Thu Jul 03, 2008 12:59 pm

Darya


The situation was awkward for Darya…but she forced herself to
recall some of the things she had learned under Corvus'
command…and the dark-haired schooled her features to a
perfectly calm expression and even a hint of the lively
sparkle that usually graced her dark eyes returned to them.
The first surprise of finding Eyla in Arthur’s room was fading
and the Sarmatian would adapt to the scenario as best as she
could… She just had to…

Eyla
 
“He is quite fine, beauty. He has been keeping the best
company…”


Darya smirked slightly at this comment. It was a typical Eyla
comment. Since she had met the other woman for the first time,
the dark Sarmatian secretly envied her for being able to
seemingly take life so easily. For the lightness she had about
her attitude and behavior. Like with most people, it was quite
possible that Eyla, too, had another face which she kept
hidden from the world…but still…

However, the dark-haired allowed herself the selfish thought
that either she herself or Lancelot still were the best
company for Arthur…despite all the mess the three of them had
been through. But she thought it better to not voice this…not
yet at least…

“A peaceful sleep and something to eat would have been the
best company I dare say…”, the Sarmatian stated dryly and her
hand unconsciously squeezed the Roman’s thigh gently. Not to
mention a healer to check on him again, she added in thought
and shifted a little to sit more comfortably on the bed.

Eyla
 
“You do not seem pleased to see me, Darya. Have I
offended you somehow hmm? I thought we were on…good
terms… Forgive me, I am so rude. You two were talking…”


For the first time since she had entered the room, Darya met
Eyla’s gaze ever so openly…and the other woman’s words
inevitably forced every single detail about their first
encounter back into the Sarmatian’s mind…and before her mind’s
eye…from confusion to curiousness and back.

Pleasure and pain…all the same…

Physical pleasure…and emotional pain. That’s what it had
mostly been back then. It had just happened…and she still did
not really know why…

“You have not offended me, Eyla…”, the female Sarmatian
finally replied, still holding the harlot’s gaze, “…but the
men have just returned from a battle…and the Fortress has been
under attack as well… I was just hoping to find the
Commander…” – my lover – “…sound asleep…getting the rest he
needs and deserves… If that makes me appear rude, I
apologize…” With that, Darya gave the other woman a lopsided
smile. And I was hoping to find him alone for there is
something I have yet to tell him and I still don’t know how…,
the Sarmatian thought bitterly…finding herself starting to
feel a bit possessive about Arthur. No, she did not fear Eyla
as a serious competition of some sort for the Commander’s
heart. Something told her that she had no reason to…but Darya
could not quite place what it was. Maybe it was
Eyla’s…occupation. Maybe it was the Sarmatian’s love for the
Roman…and the trust in him. And yet the harlot’s presence had
her a bit tensed… With her free hand, Darya brushed a strand
of long dark hair out of her face…but as it kept falling back
forward, she tucked it behind her ear and shifted her gaze
towards Arthur once more. He was so pale…so weak right now.
The Gods damn those who had done this to him…
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Pinkie
Date: Thu Jul 03, 2008 2:22 pm
Galahad


Gawain
 
“It’s alright. You were doing fine – just didn’t know
when to let it end,”


Meagre consolation -but Galahad was like a child. Even this
small gesture from Gawain was enough to console him. He shut
his eyes and tears pricked the very edges of his eyelids. His
lips were drawn out stiffly, blood lazily oozing from his top
lip into his facial hair.

Lancelot
 
"His wound must be looked at again, I'd wager."


Gawain
 
“The infirmary, You look like you could use a stop there
yourself,”


Galahad was silent as he was pulled to his feet. His head fell
forward, damp black curls covering his baby-blue eyes which
were downcast and sad. Gawain's arm was about his shoulders,
the young knight draped his arm over Lancelot's shoulder,
hobbling along miserably, stumbling between the two. He wanted
to complain about going to the infirmary, but from the way his
head had fallen forward he was able to see the spreading
darkness that discolored the water on his tunic.

Huffing out a breath, Galahad glanced up sideways at Lancelot
and pouted, then looked over at Gawain.

"You won't tell Arthur, will you?" he asked pitifully, not
wanting the Commander to be made aware of his ill actions. And
not for fear of punishment... oh no no ... the younger knight
did not want to embarrass Arthur, he didn't want to disappoint
the man.









Drake

Linnette
 
“Mmmhmm.”


Drake knew her eyes followed the saddlebags, and try as he
might to angle his knees just so that she would not see them
so clearly, her eyes were rivetted. Her dismal confirmation
that she would be alright was met with a cynical, disbelieving
twitch to Drake's dark eyebrow. She didn't sound like she
would be alright, and tears were touching the hazel depths of
her eyes once more, an incredible sadness lingered back there.
Drake felt helpless when faced with that sadness because he
knew that he would never be what would put an end to that
sadness.

Linnette
 
“I’ll pack the rest of the clothes,”


The Spaniard nodded his head briskly. He flexed his fingers
into his palm, the urge to reach out and touch her arm as she
passed him by was unbearable. The urge to turn her towards his
body once more and hug her like he had only a few moments ago,
to just have her near him again was ...

A knock on the doorframe.

Drake was about to scoop down to pick up the blankets and
tapestry when the knock came. He was half-bent and cast a
baleful glower at the intrusion, rising to his full height,
empty handed as the door was pushed open properly and a guard
stood in the doorway. Of course Drake recognised him - the boy
had promise if he could just take his eyes off the girls for
long enough to focus on training. His eyes swept over to Drake
and he gave a start before sketching a precise salute.

The old soldier nodded his head and half-lifted his hand to
dismiss the salute as unnecessary.

Boy
 
“Lady? Sir? Sorry to disturb you, Lady, but we have to
search the room. A prisoner escaped- we’re searching
everywhere.”


There was a surge of indignant anger in Drake and he stepped
forward, his shoulders pulled back. He didn't look the way he
normally did when fronted with one of his own boys who were
acting out of line. Oh he had orders.! Granted - but Drake was
in the room. What made this imbecile think that he would be
hiding a prisoner in the very room he stood in?

With his broad back to Linnette, Drake glared down at the boy
who flinched, stepping back once before halting, having
learned his lesson in backing away from Drake a couple of
weeks ago.

"Do you see the prisoner?" Drake asked.

The boy's eyes veered towards Linnette and without conscious
thought Drake started to growl. The boy's eyes quickly looked
away, looking over Drake's other shoulder and downwards and
back to Drake's unfathomable orbs.

"No, Sir." he replied crisply. Drake gave a lopsided smirk and
nodded his head, gestured for the guard to leave and turned
back to Linnette. The boy was saluting his back now and turned
to continue the search throughout the fortress. Drake pursed
his lips and scratched the back of his head, looking down at
the clothes drawer Linnette had been about to rummage through.

"I'll leave you with that - bring these to the other place."
he murmured, with a flick of agesture towards the saddlebags
and tapestry and blankets. For some reason he wasn't pleased
to involve Linnette in any of his official duties and tasks at
Badon, he didn't want her burdened by his job or intimidated
by his reputation amongst the men he trained. There was a very
good reason why Drake had been picked for the job after all.









Catherine

Within moments of entering the tavern, Catherine had assessed
the patrons, directing her hazy green eyes towards the most
likely of men who would want the company of a whore. Her mind
and heart were just not in it. Now and then her gaze would
flicker to the doors expecting someone else to come in and
that was just silly. She should focus more on work than on
talking to Knights who were not going to pay for her time.
It was whilst looking at the door that someone bumped into
her. His foot caught in between her ankles as he recklessly
ambled towards the door. Catherine gave a gasp of surprise and
barely caught herself from falling to the ground by slamming
her palm against a table hard enough to hurt.

Initially she thought it was someone who disliked her - when
she saw it had been an accident she felt an undignified huff
of anger surge through her.

Shaking her head, she turned away from the man who had bumped
her and saw a man of a similar, dark appearance watching her.
The blonde lifted her chin and looked away quite deliberately,
not amused nor impressed one bit at his friend's brusque and
rude exit.

Nadeem
 
"You must excuse Rajin, He was raised without manners."


His accent drew her in!

Catherine had intended to be ruffled about the bump, cradling
her sore hand to her stomach, but when she heard the thick,
elegant, sensual accent upon this man's lips she could not
help herself. It was all so natural, the allure that flowed
from her pale skin and eyes as she turned to look at Nadeem
again. Her green eyes were warm now, though her expression
remained unchanged - affronted and put-out.

He had tattoos on his cheeks... similar to Tristan, she
fancied, and more upon his dark forehead.

Intrigued, the blonde held his gaze, letting her eyes flutter
closed in a pretty little blink before speaking -

"And what of you? Were you raised in the same way, sir? Or can
I expect something more friendly if I come closer?" she asked
over the noise of the tavern, uncaring of those who might
listen in. Aleady her mind was flickering back and forth,
wondering where this man came frm, what those tattoos meant --
who the other men with him were. Catherine never liked taking
more than one man to bed but it would not be the first time
should she win the favour and custom of these foreigners.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: TwistOfShadows
Date: Thu Jul 03, 2008 3:42 pm
Nolan


Nolan was relieved for Merlin’s presence. The wise magician
knew Roman arrogance, and had more patience for it. The tall
Woad warrior stood firmly beside Ceinwyn and Neeria, and his
jaw was tensed aggressively and angrily. His green eyes flared
vehemently as he listened to Merlin’s wisdom, to his
negotiation. The Optio had shown himself at last…and Nolan was
amused by his sudden show of confidence. He had been cowardly,
hiding behind his lower-ranking officers and his single
Sarmatian slave, but now? He seemed to demand immediate
recognition from the Woad warriors, and Nolan tightened his
lips into a grimace. A hard wind blew through the trees around
them, rippling over branch and leaf, and biting hard at
Nolan’s cheeks. It was cold, chilled and Nolan preferred this
weather. It was truly British, strong and conditioning its
people. Resting one hand upon his dagger, he felt the blue
paint crack over his knuckles. If the Romans decided to fight,
then Nolan was ready. He would bleed them all before they won
another battle…

Amadeus
 
"I am in charge. My name is Amadeus Scipio, Optio of the
Roman Legion at Badon Hill, and I speak for Arthur
Castus. This woman has led us to this place and had made
a promise to lead us to Merlin in exchange for her life.
She is now yours to deal with as you see fit to deal
with any traitor found amongst you. Now…are you Merlin?"


Merlin
 
“I do find it curious, Amadeus Scipio- that even after
the traitor Neeria has helped you, you discard her
without a second thought. Did you think you would get
some reward out of this, live in luxury on Roman gold,
perhaps? It seems you overestimated their generosity.”


Nolan glanced down at Neeria, and bore his teeth nastily.
Apparently she was strong enough to dash his attempts at
holding her, and so he made no effort. He glared at her, and
it was a harsh threat. There was a noise in the distance, and
it interrupted his glare. His chin lifted sharply, and his
fingers tightened around his dagger hilt. Looking to Merlin,
he saw the Magician gesture to the woodland…and he obeyed.
With a sharp nod of his head, he got the attention of five of
the warriors…and led them away from the hut. Ceinwyn remained
alongside Merlin. The group of Woads approached the thick
trees cautiously, and swung up into the branches and out of
sight. Nolan paused above them, listening hard. He heard
female voices, the sharp snap of twigs…there was a skirmish.
No noise of blades, no thump of hooves. Nolan frowned darkly,
and gestured for his men to move forwards…








Eyla

Eyla should leave. Clearly Darya and Arthur were lovers and
desired time together…but no, Eyla was quite comfortable on
the Roman’s bed. She glanced around the room with pretty eyes,
sighing and parting her lips at various things. She cleaned
this room often, and was still fascinated by it. Arthur was
not a tidy man, he was rather messy. There was usually armour
leant against different walls, coins scattered upon his desk,
and papers everywhere. Oh, Eyla loved his papers. She liked to
read them when he was away…which was often. If asked, Eyla
knew a lot concerning the politics of Rome and Briton…because
she was inquisitive and fascinated by Roman affairs. It was
harmless no? She was merely doing her research, and finding
out who was worth bedding…and who was not. In truth, Darya had
not been worth bedding for finance, but she had been a
pleasant experience. Eyla believed she could teach the woman a
lot, because Eyla was successful and happy. There was more to
life than appearing solemn and worrying for your lover’s
wellbeing. Darya should have lots of lovers, one for each mood
and pleasure preference.

Darya
 
“A peaceful sleep and something to eat would have been
the best company I dare say…”


“Or perhaps merely staying at home, and not leaving himself
open for such unfortunate traumas…?” Eyla chuckled lightly,
and she lifted one slender leg onto the bed. She patted her
skirts out around her, and arched an eyebrow at Darya. War was
for people who felt they needed to fight for something to be
happy, to be content and free. Well, Eyla was all of these,
and she had not fought a battle in her life. Oh, she had slept
with violent men…but they paid handsomely for harming her
delicate and exotic body...

Darya
 
“You have not offended me, Eyla…but the men have just
returned from a battle…and the Fortress has been under
attack as well… I was just hoping to find the
Commander……sound asleep…getting the rest he needs and
deserves… If that makes me appear rude, I apologize…”


Darya met the harlot’s gaze, and Eyla leant forwards slightly.
Deliberately intensifying her gaze with the Sarmatian, and
hoping to summon all sorts of exquisite memories! Eyla
remembered parting Darya’s lips with her tongue, and slipping
her hand between the woman’s thighs…did Darya forget? Eyla
parted her lips, and smirked. Darya was chastising her for
being ignorant of Arthur’s injuries and not leaving him to
rest? It was a justified rebuke, but Eyla was not interested.
If Arthur was truly wounded terribly…then no-one should have
left him alone. Did Darya love him? Eyla thought so, and she
pitied the woman. Love was binding, trapping…

“Yes, but sound asleep is quite boring, and he was in dire
need of…entertainment…” Eyla paused deliberately. Her words
spun from her lips like thick honey, and she blinked lazily
towards the sleeping Roman. She glanced down at Darya’s
possessive hand, and smirked again. Her weakness was the
Roman. She displayed it unashamedly. Eyla spoke again. “Why
are you not resting, beauty? After our last sweet
encounter…you displayed a trouble for finding sleep? How does
that fare?” Eyla glanced towards Arthur, unsure if he slept or
not. In truth, she cared not. Darya;s suspicions and
possessiveness amused her, and she was willing to play, to
remind…
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: LadyCastus
Date: Thu Jul 03, 2008 6:38 pm
Mona


As Mona raised the dagger to cut Guinevere, she suddenly lost
her advantage when Guinevere rammed her palm into Mona's chin.
Mona felt and heard her jaw crack. The pain came immediately,
nearly blinding her with white-hot intensity. Her nose was
smashed. Guinevere scooted from underneath Mona and sprang to
her feet, pulling a knife from nowhere and slicing Mona's
wrist causing Mona to lose her grip and drop her dagger.

Guinevere
 
"What do you think you're doing?"


Mona touched her nose and flinched in pain, almost choking.
She looked at her fingers which were full of blood. She spit
out the hot, salty blood in her throat. Her eyes glazed over
as sanity snapped out her grasp.

"You BITCH!!!" the crazed woman screamed, spinning around and
rushing into Guinevere. Bending over and charging forward,
Mona rammed her shoulder into Guinevere's waist, pushing the
woad princess down to the ground again. Mona straddled
Guinevere and flailed her fists wildly.

"I hate you! I hate you!" she screamed in Guinevere's face,
spitting wildly like a crazed animal.

Mona was in a blind fury. As she fought viciously, Mona did
not feel the knife cutting and slicing into her. Nor did she
react to the counter punches being lobbed at her. She foamed
at the mouth like a rabid animal. Mona's mind had snapped and
all she could think of was Merlin. He'll be mine!! the voices
screamed in her head.

Mona began to weaken and her vision blurred. She reached up to
wipe the hair from her eyes. Only it wasn't hair. Mona's hand
was full of blood. At first she thought it was Guinevere's
blood, but somewhere in her insanity, she realized the blood
was coming from her own head. Then she actually felt the knife
sink into her bicep. She moaned in pain.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Thu Jul 03, 2008 8:24 pm

Vanora


Dagonet
 
"Good.... Don't let him walk too much with this and he
has to be back here in two days."


Vanora nodded at Bors' friend, though Bors gave his friend a
totally different look. The two had been friends for as long
as Vanora could recall, and from her point of view, they both
knew each other very well...caused them to care what happened
to the other. To protect. The red head ran her hand over her
lover's strong arm to calm him, "I'll make sure he comes back,
Dag. Just you take care of Saorise, okay? Saved you some ale
as well, so when you both recover, you can celebrate all you
want to..." Vanora gave Dagonet a bright smile that belied the
type of day she had just had...all of the pain and tragedy
that came with it. To add to it, she had not seen Javier for a
week, or had it been longer? She had seen Ione though. Javier
had been placed in their care, and now he was gone. Perhaps
things had not worked out and he had decided to go back home
to wherever he was from...

Bors
 
"Yeah, fanks Dag," "Fanks a lot." "You sure you'll be
alright mate?"


...As Bors moved to place his arm over Vanora's shoulder, she
raised her hand to meet the one drapped over her shoulder.
Shifting her weight, Vanora was able somehow to carry most of
Bors weight so that he'd not have to place too much weight on
the leg. She smiled up at him, though he was sort of grinning.
Her gaze went to Dagonet, then to Saorise, and back, "Thank
you for just being here Dag. Bors and I would not know what to
do without you." She gave the tall knight a smile as well.
With all he and Linnette were going through, perhaps at least
a smile would help. "Let us know if there is anything we can
do for you." Vanora shifted again, as she and Bors made ready
to go home when Dagonet spoke again....

Dagonet
 
"I'll be fine.... I need only some rest. I'll take it
easly, Bors"


Bors
 
"Hmph," "Well... I'll be back in ta see ya soon
alright?"


Vanora could only shake her head wishing that sometimes that
there was a cure for pain, suffering and sorrow. It seemed
that the good were always the ones to get the bad end of any
deal. She never figured out how the knights lived from day to
day with all of the loss...but battle was in their blood.
Along with battles came loss. The ones lost in battle had also
fought for freedom, an against the enemy. Without Arthur, the
romans and the Sarmatian knights, the enemies would over run
the land. "You take it easy, Dagonet. After Bors rests, and
heals, he'll be back."

Looking up at Bors, Vanora asked, "Are you ready to go home,
lover?" In truth, after the type of day she had had, Vanora
was ready for some time of taking care of Bors...devoting all
of her love and attention to him as well. It had seemed like a
long time since she and Bors had spent any time together, and
with the children out playing, maybe they could have some
quality time as well....
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golden_trillium

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Author: sabor ice
Date: Fri Jul 04, 2008 12:11 am
Nadeem


Catherine
 
"And what of you? Were you raised in the same way, sir?
Or can I expect something more friendly if I come
closer?"


Catherine had a certain allure about her, a 'come-hither'
light to her eyes despite her obvious displeasure, and the way
she carried her generous self made it no secret what she
advertised.

In some rural areas of his birthplace, where religion was
twisted and beliefs were extreme, a woman of Catherine's
profession was liable to be crucified. Solicitation of the
body - despite a woman's marital status - was viewed as the
work of the Devil, an unredeemable sin, a crime more heinous
than even rape or homicide. A woman's body was a temple, a
holy temple, property of the man she was married or betrothed
to, and licensed to be used by no other. For her to give
herself freely to another, or for another to take from her
what she would not willingly give - bar her husband - was
fatally punishable. Nadeem's mother had been no exception.

As a small child, Nadeem had witnessed his father murder his
mother in cold blood after accusing her of infidelity, the
damaging and irreversible image forever scarring his mind.
But, this was not the reason Nadeem no longer acknowledged
most of the beliefs of his people. He had traveled the world,
and amidst the sorrow and suffering he had encountered along
the way, he had also found something else, something more.
Opportunity. He chose not to believe in old traditions because
he had been given the unhindered opportunity to taste life and
all of its pleasures. And through his experiences, Nadeem had
become a changed man - not necessarily a better man - but a
changed one. He believed life should be enjoyable, and if
women like Catherine found ecstasy through promiscuousness,
then who was he to judge her?

Not all of Nadeem's men approved of his loose morals. The
old-time believers would never have confronted their leader
about such things, but the tension created by the whore's
presence was tangible, and Nadeem would never purposely aim to
offend them further. Out of respect for their belief in the
old ways, Nadeem was guarded with his intentions. He would not
openly solicit for her intimate company just now, but he would
keep her in mind for later.

"I believe I remember something of manners," Nadeem replied,
with a wry smile.

Three sets of burning dark eyes flickered past their leader to
Catherine, but it was only Abaas who reacted mortally
affronted by her presence. He gave a snort of disgust,
deliberately shifting his position at the table to face away
from her. He snagged and pocketed the dice he and the others
had been playing with, and replaced it with a new game
involving a folded piece of marked cloth and bits used as
pieces he had retrieved from his robes.

"It is called Chaturaji, or Four Kings," Nadeem explained to
Catherine of the game at hand, indifferent toward Abaas'
reaction. He himself was not involved in the match, but merely
speculated. There was a whimsical glint to the leader's usual
unfathomable dark eyes as he glanced back at the blonde woman.
"Do you know it?"
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Author: Kay
Date: Fri Jul 04, 2008 1:11 am
Guinevere


Mona was hurt; Guinevere, eyes blazing, glared at the girl,
who was spitting her own blood out onto the forest floor.

Mona
 
"You BITCH!!!"


Charging at the princess, Mona slammed into Guinevere's waist
and knocked her to the ground, sitting on her to continue her
assault.

Mona
 
"I hate you! I hate you!"


Guinevere fended off the wildly aimed blows. Mona seemed to
have lost her grip completely; all the years of careful combat
training were forgotten as she flailed her fists about,
leaving herself exposed to blow after blow from both the knife
that Guinevere held, and from the princess' free hand. Mona
seemed more like a cornered wild animal than a woad warrior.
She was actually foaming at the mouth!

After what seemed to Guinevere like an eternity, but was in
fact, merely moments, blood loss began to weaken the crazed
girl. Another blow from Guinevere's knife and the girl groaned
as the reality of her situation suddenly seemed to dawn on
her. She rolled off of Guinevere, still trying to cling to her
in desperation.

A sudden movement grabbed the princess' attention and she
jumped to her feet, now aware of the noise that the fight must
have made. They had surely been discovered.
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Author: golden_trillium
Date: Fri Jul 04, 2008 8:51 am
Linnette and Linnesse


Drake
 
"I'll leave you with that- bring these to the other
place."


"All right," Linnette agreed with a nod. She shook her head,
oblivious to Drake's discomfort with the situation- she just
thought it strange that they should be searching for an
escaped prisoner here- and strange, and worrying, that there
was an escaped prisoner at all. She turned from the dresser,
her eyes scanning the room, and automatically, even though it
was perhaps silly, bent her knees and ducked down, enough to
see under the bed. No one there- of course.

"Hmm," was all she remarked, feeling a bit foolish even for
looking- but Drake was already halfway out the doorway, the
rolled-up tapestry on his shoulder and the other arm holding
about half of the bedding.

He was gone only for a short time, but in those few minutes,
Linnesse and Derfel arrived at Linnette's room, immediately
and cheerfully pitching in to help. Linnette set Derfel to
disassembling the bed frame- it would have to be, to move it
out of the room- while she and Linnesse finished with the last
of the things from the dresser, Linnesse chatting about what
had taken place in the tavern after Linnette had left-
apparently, Gahalad's outburst had led to a large-scale fight,
and Kolya had been heavily involved. Linnesse was obviously
rather distressed that it had turned out that way, but
happily, no one had seeemed seriously hurt, and Linnette
nodded and commented appropriately as her sister talked, most
of her mind not really on the conversation.

So the work continued. Drake and Derfel did the heavy work,
moving the things to the new quarters, while the two women,
once Linnette's room was bare, moved on to Linnesse and
Derfel's quarters, where much the same scene repeated itself.
Linnette wasn't sure how long they worked- but it was at least
a couple of hours, enough for the light coming in the window
to be noticeably dim by the time that Linnette and Linnesse
finished their final scan of Linnesse and Derfel's former
quarters to ensure that nothing of theirs had been left
behind.

"Well, that's that- now to finally see this new place!"
Linnesse exclaimed with a laugh. Neither of them had actually
seen the new set of rooms yet- it had been easier to delegate
the moving itself to the two men, while they did the packing.

"After all this, I hope it's nice," Linnette murmurred with a
wry twist to her mouth, as she reached out and took the small
bag Linnesse was carrying from her sister's shoulder. It was
not heavy- it contained some healing supplies that Linnesse
liked to have available conveniently packed up, should she
need them- but Linnette didn't want her sister to have to
carry anything. She was looking exhausted again already, and
indeed she flashed a tired, grateful smile as Linnette took
the bag.

"Thanks," Linnesse acknowledged, and Linnette returned the
smile reassuringly, as they stepped out into the corridor
together, Linnette shutting the door behind them. Linnesse had
displayed very little sentimentality about leaving her former
quarters- she didn't say it, but it was clear that wherever
Derfel was going to be was home for her, and she wasn't
concerned about anything in that vein. Linnette, on the other
hand, was feeling more glum, though glad that she had at least
been able to keep the bed. Derfel was putting the finishing
touches on its assembly in the new quarters now, or so she had
heard.

"Now...where did they say it was?" Linnesse exclaimed as they
started down the corridor, and Linnette had to shrug in
response. She couldn't exactly remember what Drake had said-
it was at the end of...what, exactly? She hesitated in her
step, blowing out an exasperated breath- but at that moment,
Drake rounded the one of the corners of the intersection in
front of them, and it looked like the problem would be handily
solved.

"That's everything," she called out to him, gesturing behind
them to Linnesse and Derfel's former, empty room.
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Author: Lancelot
Date: Fri Jul 04, 2008 9:58 am
Lancelot


Lancelot met Gawain's eyes briefly as they helped Galahad to
stand - well, met with one eye. His shiner was enormously bad
- he'd have some colors on his face not seen often outside of
a ladies' tapestry, he was certain.

Gawain
 
“The infirmary, You look like you could use a stop there
yourself,”


Lancelot smirked quickly, but the pain from his various new
wounds and his now swollen eye made that end. He shrugged and
bit his lip at the flash of hurt it brought. He slung his arm
about Galahad's waist, and between the two of them, they
managed to get going toward the infirmary.

"No. I've had worse - and besides, if I told anyone these
wounds were given to me by the pup, I'd have to work too hard
at getting my fierce reputation back." He flashed his teeth at
the other knight, and grunted with the effort it took to guide
Galahad.

They were all three wet and bedraggled looking; first the
rain, and then the bucket from the two lovely women. And
healers both! Lancelot shook his head as he thought about
whether he'd have to get back at them. Perhaps an idea for a
later date. Thinking of "getting back" at Neeve brought
another quick, dirty smile to his face. She was a specimen,
that was for certain.

Galahad
 
"You won't tell Arthur, will you?"


And that sentence brought reality crashing down around
Lancelot's ears again.

He gritted his teeth until his jaw popped as they continued
their slow trek toward the hospital entrance. Gods - what in
the fuck was he going to tell Arthur? Yet another thing
between us. "Pup - how d'you think I'm going to explain this
eye and new bruises to him? Despite his injury, he's still
Arthur. He's still an annoying fool that sees everything. Even
if I don't tell him, he'll find out somehow." He groaned
something that sounded too close to troublemaking Roman son of
a bitch but kept it mostly to himself. "I will do my best. You
know me; a little lie comes so very easily."

He stumbled a bit as they were walking, but didn't allow it to
stop his stride as he and Gawain supported the foolish young
one. "What in Arthur's damnable Hell made you do something so
idiotic, Galahad? Kolya is old, larger than you, and even if I
do say so myself, a lot stronger than some of us. What on
earth made you think you could even put a dent in his armor?"
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Author: Kayla
Date: Fri Jul 04, 2008 3:39 pm

Fiona


Getting the guards away from their post had been easier than
Fiona had thought.

For a moment, as she was pulling them away, the terror still
written all over her face as she wondered what was happening
to her dear "sister", the young woad felt guilty. This
situation had called for her to lie and make up a false story
that she truly hoped would not find some way to haunt her in
the future, but what if she was telling the truth at a later
period and no one believed her? Of course, she was probably
being irrational but it didn't stop the myriads of thoughts
parading through her head as she ran, stopping in front of a
series of dark random alleyways, pointing inside and telling
them that he had taken her sister down there. They nodded,
telling her to stay where she was, drawing their swords and
setting off to try and help her, when there really wasn't
anything there.

With one last look at their retreating backs, and a slight
frown forming on her face, Fiona turned around and left
immediately. As guilty as she may have been feeling about this
and the way the guards had responded so quickly, leaving their
posts almost instantaneously, there wasn't any way that she
wanted to be around when they realized that there was no evil
man or helpless sister waiting to be rescued from those dark
alleyways. Instead, she picked up her pace again, hoping that
she didn't attract any attention in the process. This thought
caused her to look around, glad that there wasn't anyone
around. And if she was lucky, the guards wouldn't come after
her but instead, return to their posts.

Fiona nervously wondered if Ash had managed to get Eala out of
the prison but there was no way of truly knowing, unless she
were to return home, which almost seemed like it wasn't an
option anymore. Not after choosing to live in the fort.
Although, who knew what would happen after this little act she
had pulled. The fort was big but it wasn't that big and who
even knew if the guards would keep quiet about it.

Running her hands through her hair, the woad finally slowed
down her pace, not quite sure where to go. She didn't want to
be in sight of anyone that might recognize her, meaning the
guards if they had ended up trying to follow her but her
stomach still rumbled with hunger, as she had left the tavern
after hearing about Eala. Her original resolve on just going
home quickly dwindled as she moved in the direction of the
tavern. On the way there, though, a sight caught her eye. Two
of the knights, Gawain and the ever-famous Lancelot, were half
carrying a bedraggled looking Galahad. Her curiousity took
over as she looked at the bruises, wincing at the sight of
them and she caught up to the trio. "What happened to him?"
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Author: linnet
Date: Fri Jul 04, 2008 8:30 pm

Gawain


It had become too hard for Gawain to look at Galahad’s face.
The tears threatening to escape from the corners of his
friend's eyes were gut-wrenching. It was hard to imagine that
any grown man could be so pitiable. He looked liked a little
boy, hurt and full of remorse. And people wondered why Gawain
fretted over the younger knight. Why he felt the need to be
protective. All they would need to do is look at the youngest
Sarmatian now.

Galahad couldn’t even hold his head up steadily as the two
older knights supported him and half walked, half carried him
toward the infirmary. Gawain’s knee ached with every step, and
blood was running down his cheek, feeling stickier and thicker
now than it had when he’d first been cut by one of Galahad’s
wild punches. But he figured he couldn’t look as bad a
Lancelot did with his eye almost swollen shut, coloring more
vividly by the minute.

Lancelot
 
"No. I've had worse - and besides, if I told anyone
these wounds were given to me by the pup, I'd have to
work too hard at getting my fierce reputation back."


Gawain looked at Lancelot, his expression showing a touch of
frustration. Did he have to use that word now? Maybe it was
meant harmlessly, almost affectionately, but being referred to
as the pup usually didn’t sit well with Galahad.

Galahad
 
"You won't tell Arthur, will you?"


Lancelot
 
"Pup - how d'you think I'm going to explain this eye and
new bruises to him? Despite his injury, he's still
Arthur. He's still an annoying fool that sees
everything. Even if I don't tell him, he'll find out
somehow. I will do my best. You know me; a little lie
comes so very easily."


This time Gawain shook his head, reminding himself that if it
wasn’t bothering Galahad, then there was no reason for him to
be irritated. There were some things that were beyond control,
and Lancelot was one of them. And the First Knight was right.
Arthur would find out. Anyone who hadn’t witnessed the actual
brawl would probably see the three battered participants
making their way along the busy streets, right through the
marketplace. Those who didn’t see them would hear about it
from those who did. Knights’ affairs were always matters of
interest to the inhabitants of Badon. And affairs involving
fisticuffs and bloodshed, lovers’ quarrels and debauchery were
the most interesting of all.

Gawain turned his head to speak directly to Lancelot. The
long-haired knight’s features were determined and serious.
“When Arthur figures out your little lie, and asks you who was
responsible for this mess, tell him it was me,” he said. “That
won’t be a lie.” He kept his eyes on Lancelot, hoping for a
sign of confirmation that Galahad wouldn’t be held at fault
for what Gawain believed he had stupidly set in motion.

Lancelot
 
"What in Arthur's damnable Hell made you do something so
idiotic, Galahad? Kolya is old, larger than you, and
even if I do say so myself, a lot stronger than some of
us. What on earth made you think you could even put a
dent in his armor?"


“I just told you, I put him up to it,” Gawain said quickly. If
Galahad didn’t want to tell Lancelot any more, Gawain was
going to make certain he didn’t have to – at least not now.

Fiona
 
"What happened to him?"


Gawain paused as Fiona intercepted them. He re-positioned his
hold around Galahad’s waist to get better leverage, and waited
for Lancelot to answer the young Woad’s question. Just how
good a little lie could the First Knight come up with?
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Author: lady ione
Date: Fri Jul 04, 2008 9:15 pm

Adian


He thought of Fiona. He worried about her, and the memory of
what had passed between them was still evident when his eyes
went to the still unmade bed...the angle at which the pillow
lie...The way Fiona's still clothed body had felt next to his.
An odd sort of sweet love that had passed between them. Where
was she? Was she alright? Perhaps he shouldn't have left her
alone...not safe for her here...not safe.... Tatiana was so
much more different. So innocent, playful, and had not yet
experienced love from a man Adian guessed.

Tatiana
 
"Wow, Adian. This is a really nice place you have here.
Thank you for sharing this with me."


Closing the door behind him, Adian watched her reaction to the
surroundings of his quarters. Their quarters: his and Thorn's.
He noted that Tati was very well mannered...perhaps a bit too
much. He liked to use manners, but sometimes one had to let
their hair down and just have fun. "Not a problem, Tatiana.
Thorn was some what of a stickler for being neat, which I am
not..." Reaching out, he removed Tatiana's cloak and moved to
hang it on a set of wooden pegs he had carved for just such a
purpose.

Adian moved over to a nearby table and got the basket of bread
and cheeses, and carried it to some furs that had been
scattered near the hearth. Looking around the room, his eyes
fell on a set of odd set stones inlaid into the floor.

Kneeling next to the stack, he removed them to reveal a small
door. Lifting the door, Adian reached in and produced a small
skin of wine, and fruit. Placing the items next to the trap
door, Adian shut the door and replaced the stones. Getting to
his feet, Adian picked up the items and brought them to the
furs as well, set them down and then moved to stoke the fire a
bit....

Tatiana
 
"Is there anything that I can help you with food or
otherwise?"


" Nope, all you have to do is make yourself at home by the
fire, and help yourself," Adian poured himself a mug of the
cold wine that had been in the small underground storage, and
then poured Tatiana one, indicating as he did so, a place for
her to sit...
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