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August 2008
Topic Started: Apr 12 2010, 09:09 PM (2,831 Views)
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Tue Aug 26, 2008 8:15 pm
Brendyn


So far all had been quiet along the wall and as far as Brendyn
could see. He stood facing out toward that vast darkness with
his spear at his side in an easy grip, and his ex Commander's
sword in the sheath at his side. Behind him, Brendyn could
make out different voices and people walking here and there he
assumed...probably toward the tavern which he assumed most
soldiers and civilians went after work. The young soldier
scanned the darkness wishing at least for the help of a bright
clear moon while his stomach rumbled. Brendyn had had
something to eat, but perhaps not enough as he had only had
stew and bread with tea. He made it a habit never to drink
before night duty or any other duty....

It would almost be time to give the report to the officer in
charge, and it would be the same as it had been since he began
his shift, but then he considered it good news if they were
not under attack. He loved guard duty whether it was in the
dungeons or the wall...or even going to battle. To himself, he
thought it'd be a good time to pray for Arthur and the men he
had become friends with since meeting them....wisdom and
discernment were always good things to pray for, or so the
monk, Benedict, had told him at Aesica.

So Brendyn stood, his one hand clasping his cloak at the waist
to keep out the damp and cold while the other held his
spear....

"Report Soldier," The officer in Charge demanded.

"Still nothing, sir. All is quiet," Brendyn replied.

"Good. Good carry one," The officer said as he took a cautious
look over the side of the wall, turned and walked back to his
post.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: sabor ice
Date: Wed Aug 27, 2008 2:48 am

Milan


Mari
 
"Oh.. I .. That's ok... I mean, it's not ... it's not
like you have to, or anything, I don't think it means...
Milan, I'm sorry. I don't know what that means..."


Milan realized the moment the words left his mouth how wrong
it had all sounded, not the awkward droll of his monotone nor
the brutal skewing of all vowels and consonants, but the
meaning of the words themselves. The meaning had sounded all
wrong. There was a knotting in his stomach as he hesitantly
looked to Mari, knowing her reaction would be heartbreaking at
the misunderstanding. And, it was horrible. She looked like
that same porcelain doll in the firelight, only more fragile.
He had feared his touch might somehow cause her to break, but
now he realized his words had done the irreparable damage. At
any moment he was certain she'd shatter into dust and ash
under the dim moonlight. A star brighter than any in the
Heavens would be lost to the nothingness of space, and all
because of his verbal stupidity. He would murder her yet with
his words.

"No..." he murmured when she started to say her sorry,
reaching out to her but deft fingers quickly curled back into
his palm.

Milan hung his head as he rounded the side of the bed and sat
on the edge, face in his hands, shoulders hunched sorrowfully.
Why did everything he tried to say always come out wrong? He
had so much on his troubled mind, years of fear and torment
and neglect. It was bottled up so tightly that it suffocated
him inside out. And, now these new feelings he had for Mari,
they laced the poison in sweet remedy, easing the pain. Why
couldn't he just let it all out into the open? If anyone
needn't love someone, it was Mari. She loved him when she
didn't have to. How could he let her know how much better he
was now because of the hope she had given and the love she had
shown him?

"Every..tthing...in...side..." he whispered, his voice
desperate for her understanding. He raised apologetic blue
eyes to meet hers, and placed a palm against his chest for
effect of his words. "...doesn' come out...rrright..."

He pressed both hands to his thighs and stood from the bed,
his shuffled footsteps nervous as he moved closer to her.
Milan touched a gentle hand to her arm, his free hand
mirroring the action on her other one as he coaxed her to face
him. His face hovered a breath away from hers, causing her to
have to tilt back her head just to see him eye-to-eye. The
glistening of her brown eyes caused him to instinctively
softly brush his thumbs across to wipe away the threatening
tears, his hands then catching her sweet face between them.

"I-I jus' wanna...luv you...Mari..." Milan told her quietly,
focusing on her lips a moment, then he raised his gaze. The
middle of his forehead puckered out thoughtfully. "Is
that...ok?"

Would that be enough for her? It was all he had to give. Would
his love be enough?
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Darya
Date: Wed Aug 27, 2008 9:26 am
Neeve


Tristan & Jols
 
"Scipio maybe...he was in charge, shoulda known better. But Barbattus... Any Sarmatian acted like that woulda been whipped,"

"Hmm..interesting. You're right about that. I wonder though.. since it sounded like the mission doesn't go according to Scipio's plan..and if the Commander doesn't like the outcome either...what'll happen next?"

"Tchh. Arthur'll go out there himself."

"Hmm. If he does go out there, I hope that he'll at least take some of his Knights out with him, if only to keep himself safe."


Neeve had fallen into her usual quiet and observing behaviour
without even noticing it. Well, it was part of her
personality…despite the fact that she had changed since she
had returned to Badon Hill. But the 'listen and learn'-tactic
came natural to her…still…and the exchange between Tristan and
Jols was highly interesting. What she was hearing definitely
explained the Optio’s rather reserved expression in Arthur’s
room earlier. After all, the younger Roman would have to
report an apparently failed mission to the Commander… Not
good. Neither for him nor for Arthur, who’d certainly get even
less rest due to this. Neeve growled quietly at this thought,
knowing all about the Commander’s injury…

When Tristan then mused that Arthur would surely ride out to
speak to Merlin himself, the healer raised both eyebrows and
glanced skeptically at the scout. She would definitely have a
word with the Commander before he got even near his horse
should he truly consider going to the Woad leader himself.
There mere idea made her clench her teeth already. The Roman
was not at his best…not even close to it. He shouldn’t go
anywhere… And with that, the idea of a guard in front of the
Commander’s room came back to her. Now would it not be
convenient if this guard would not only make sure that no one
disturbed Arthur but also that the man stayed in his quarters
to finally get rest? A corner of the Briton’s mouth twitched
slightly at this idea and she took another bite from her
apple…

…just to notice from the corner of her eyes that Lucius was
suddenly – and obviously in a hurry – leaving the
tavern…closely followed by a definitely not that sober anymore
Derfel. At least the Saxon waved at the small group and Neeve
gave him an acknowledging nod in return before watching him
exit the building. With her attention on the Saxon, the healer
did not really notice the messenger boy, who had approached
Jols…and even when she shifted her gaze back to the group
around the table, the raven-haired woman merely eyed the boy
for a moment before hearing yet someone approaching them…

Ione
 
"Good evening, everyone. Is it okay if I sit here with
you?"


Jols
 
"Evening, Ione. Sure, its quite alright."


Neeve lifted her chin slightly in a greeting way as her blue
eyes lingered on the weaver for a moment…but then the healer
waved at a serving girl and ordered a mug of tea. It would
make it easier to get some sleep later.

Then the Briton saw Titrus, the Roman who had reported to
Arthur about the security breach, and another officer entering
the tavern. It was getting crowded. She watched the two men
settling down at the table next to the one she was sitting
at…and nodded at the Romans when Titrus greeted them. And then
her mug of tea arrived and the healer clasped it with both
hands…savouring the warmth. Well, good timing…since she was
done with her apple by now.

“Want some, too?”, the healer then asked Ione, who looked
rather…distressed, and lifted the mug, “…as so long as the
kitchen has the herbs, we should make use of them…” Neeve
managed a faint wry smile even though the topic of herbs was a
quite serious one. Some of the herbs in the kitchen could also
be used in the infirmary…and should the healers run out of
herbs, they would certainly get them from the tavern; and if
she had to ask the Commander for permission.
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golden_trillium

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Author: golden_trillium
Date: Wed Aug 27, 2008 12:14 pm
Tristan and Quintus


Ione
 
"Good evening, everyone. Is it okay if I sit here with
you?"


Jols
 
"Evening, Ione. Sure, it’s quite all right. Here you go,
little guy- one very hot meal for Captain Barbattus.
Carry it carefully and be sure that you hold it level so
as not to spill it. No running with it now, ok?"


Neeve
 
“Want some, too?…as so long as the kitchen has the
herbs, we should make use of them…”


Tristan silently scooted over in his turn as Jols shifted and
Ione sat down, then continued steadily, though not hurriedly,
scooping his soup into his mouth as Jols flagged down a tray
and sent the boy on his way to Barbattus, and Neeve and Ione
fell to a discussion of herbs. Those happenings made little
difference to him, and between bites his eyes traveled around
the tavern- observing Derfel and his soldier companion
leaving, in separate directions and both noticeably drunk, and
then Lieutenant Titrus and Centurion Quintus entering the
tavern, chatting and making a beeline for the table that
Derfel had just vacated. However, it was the next arrival- a nervous-looking soldier, that caught his attention more. At first he assumed the man must be looking for one of the two officers, for he was heading in their general direction- but as he came closer, it became clear that his target was not Titrus or Quintus- but apparently Tristan himself.

Reuben
 
"Um. Tristan, I'm sorry to bother you. Um. But my squad
leader sent me. The prisoner. The Woad. Um. She's been
screaming for hours. She won't shut up.
She's...um...she's screaming, saying she wants to talk
to you...um...Captain Barbattus can't be disturbed and
nobody knows what to do with her...um...can you come and
talk to her?"


What? Tristan felt his cheeks heat and his eyes grow wide with
uncharacteristic horror that only increased as the man
continued his stumbling explanation of the problem. The Woad
prisoner…screaming for him? His name? For hours?? It was
enough to make Tristan feel like all the blood had drained
from his body, like all his limbs had been hacked off, leaving
him helpless. Any other torture the Woads could devise would
have been preferable- anything! Just the thought of what the
crazy woman must look and sound like was agonizing..and the
officer down there wanted him to go to her?? Swallowing his
last mouthful of soup hard and nearly dropping his spoon- it
had slipped from his fingers while he was sitting shocked and
he only managed to grab onto it again at the last moment-
Tristan threw a look of utter panic across the table to Neeve.
She was a woman…a healer…surely she must have some experience
dealing with hysterical members of the so-called weaker sex?
Tristan sure as hell didn’t!! Why the fuck didn’t they just
kill the damn prisoner, anyway? It would save him the trouble
of this!

In full panic mode, his senses were even more acute- without
any reason to, without trying, he heard clearly a snatch of
the conversation between Titrus and Quintus at the next table-
and noticed with an increasing sense of doom that they were
commenting on what the soldier had just said to him. Soon it
would be all over the whole fort! The Woad prisoner, convinced
that Tristan the scout would comfort her in her extremity…oh,
Hadrian’s balls, what a fucking mess.

Titrus
 
"I'll buy your first ale. Evening, good people.”


“Thanks,” grunted the Centurion, flashing the serving girl a
brief and unhandsome- but sincere- smile of his own as he
pulled towards him one of the mugs that she had set down. It
looked good, and smelled better…but as he was raising it to
his lips to drink, his attention was caught by the situation
apparently developing at the table next door.

“Look,” Quintus nudged Titrus in the shoulder and pointed over
at the nervous soldier- Reuben, his name was, Quintus thought-
trying, incredibly, to convince Arthur’s taciturn and moody
scout to go to the aid of the Woad prisoner.

“They must really be desperate,” Quintus chuckled, shaking his
head at the absurdity of the whole situation- while at the
next table, Tristan tensed his jaw to iron, looked at no one,
and hoped desperately that Neeve had some brilliant idea for
dealing with this.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: LadyCastus
Date: Wed Aug 27, 2008 5:07 pm
Malcus Barbattus


Jols
 
"Here you go, little guy, one very hot meal for Captain
Barbattus. Carry it carefully and be sure that you hold
it level so as not to spill it. No running with it now,
ok."


“Thanks Jols, for helpin’ me.” Petri said, smiling at the
squire then hauling ass out off tavern, careful not to spill
the hot food. The boy made his way through the commons and
back to the barracks, proud of himself for having dropped
nothing. It had gotten quite cold outside and the boy’s feet
were freezing.

“I’ve got the Captin’s food!” he yelled at the sentries who
allowed him access to the officer’s side of the building.
After checking the contents of his pouch (security had been
increased since the last woad attack), they waved him through.
Petri scurried down the dark, narrow corridor, finally
arriving at Barbattus’ room. The boy pressed his ear to the
door first before knocking.

Barbattus laid his book down on the small table which served
as his desk and rose to answer the door. He was greeted with a
wide-eyed, smiling boy holding a pouch. The smell of food
permeated the corridor.

“Captin, I’ve come with yer food,” Petri said proudly. He was
proud that he had been charged with such a responsibility of
bringing an officer some grub.

Malcus straightened to his full height and narrowed his eyes
at the boy.

“Is it all there?” he asked sternly. “You didn’t take any did
you?”

Petri’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open. “Er…no sir!
Nothing at all!” he said, handing Malcus the pouch.

The captain took the pouch and peered inside. He closed his
eyes and inhaled deeply. Then he looked at Petri, with
narrowed slits. Petri stood absolutely still. Then Malcus
laughed at him. Petri’s small chest caved with relief. Malcus
snapped to attention and saluted the young boy.

“Well done, my boy. Thank you,”

“Oy, Captain!” Petri stood straight and saluted.

Malcus chuckled again and gave Petri 2 coins.

“Don’t go spending that on ale or women, either,” he said.

“No sir!” Petri said with amazement, wide-eyed, staring at the
coins in his hand.

“Come see me again,” Malcus said and closed the door.

The captain went back to his chair and removed the food from
the pouch. He sniffed the food once more and began to eat
ravenously, thinking of what he would say to Arthur.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: lady ione
Date: Wed Aug 27, 2008 5:19 pm
Ione


Jols
 
"Evening, Ione." "Sure, its quite alright."


Ione returned Neeve's greeting and wave while the healer
ordered some tea. "Thank you," Her voice tinged with reminants
of the crying she had done, and the sorrow still within her.
The loss of friends was never a good thing, and she had so
few. She set her soup and bread on the table next to where
Jols had moved over for her, then slowly sat down with a sigh.
Her dark eyes moved once again to the man (Titrus), and saw
his smile.

Titrus
 
"Evening, good people,"


The Roman's voice was a pleasant one, and she thought she had
detected an accent though she could not be sure. Turning back
to Neeve, Ione asked, "Who is that man sitting over there?"
Ione whispered. She had not met a lot of the Romans at the
fort as she was either working....or working. Ione blushed
slightly, then moved her gaze back to the group she was with
now. The man (Titrus) had a kind face with gentle eyes. Ione
gave up dreaming before she began. She just was not ready to
give her heart out again....though perhaps being a friend was
not such a bad thing....maybe they'd meet sometime, and just
talk...Oh stop wishing Ione! You know he's too busy for the
likes of you... There was a boy who waited near the table as
well on the other side of Jols. As she began to wonder who he
was, a wench came back with some food, and Jols paid for it,
then handed the food to the boy. The only folks she knew at
the fort were her customers, and those at the infirmary as she
made blankets for them, but she realized that she knew so few
of them...

Jols
 
"Here you go, little guy, one very hot meal for Captain
Barbattus. Carry it carefully and be sure that you hold
it level so as not to spill it. No running with it now,
ok."


Ione had to smile slightly at the gesture as Jols had always
been that way....or so she had heard.

Ione eyed everyone around the table though she had no idea
why. They were all of her friends, and she loved every single
one of them. Perhaps it was the fact the at least two or three
at the table knew of she and Javier, and the way she felt
right now, Ione didn't really want to explain that he had gone
back to Spain without her. She was in no mood to hear "I told
you so s". Javier and she were rarely seen one without the
other, and he had become an intrical part of her life: every
breath, and thought they had were of each other. She left her
gaze drift to the healer, and thought it might be a good idea
to have a check up...though as busy as Neeve was, Ione
wondered if she'd even have the time.

It felt good to be in the company of friends.

Especially now.

As she listened to the conversation between Bors and Tristan,
she frowned. She had come in the middle of it, and really did
not understand what was going on, but it didn't sound really
good. Something about a mission, Arthur and some bad things
that had happened. The weaver loved Arthur and considered him
to be like an older brother...one of the kindest and bravest
of all the Romans she had met. If only all Roman's were like
he. Ione kept her opinion to herself though as she knew little
of matters of this sort. Though when a soldier approached the
table and addressed Tristan, but Ione could not hear what was
said as she was not that close to the two to hear. When
Neeve's tea arrived, Ione could not help but inhale the
calming aroma of the warm brew....

Neeve
 
“Want some, too?” “…as so long as the kitchen has the
herbs, we should make use of them…”


"I-I would love some, Neeve. Thank you..." Ione's voice
trailed off a bit as the sadness still clung to her. Her
stomach leaped a bit then seemed to move a bit. Odd feeling.
'It might...calm me and my..my stomach down a bit.' She did
not want to come right out and say that she was pregnant, or
she thought she was. With a sigh, Ione leaned over toward the
healer's ear and whispered so that no one but Neeve could
hear, 'I-I think...I am pregnant...' When she had said her
piece, Ione looked back around the table only to see Tristan
with an odd look on his face gazing over at Neeve. Her eyes
flickered from the nervous soldier next to Tristan, then to
the knight. Was he in trouble?
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: sirgawain
Date: Thu Aug 28, 2008 1:20 am
Gawain


Gawain breathed a sigh of relief as he strode out of the wide
doors of the infirmary. It was nice to stretch his feet after
having sat on that tiny wooden stool beside the very cranky
Galahad for so long. It wasn’t that he minded spending time
with his truest friend, or that he felt that Galahad was
unjustified in his foul mood, but the fresh air was just what
he needed right now. The man had to fight the urge to rub his
eyes like a child, switching from the dreary, dank light of
the stone walls to the bright outside light. Instead he just
blinked a few times, continuing his aimless wandering through
the grounds.

When he came upon the courtyards, he lifted his eyes to glance
around at who was sharing the space with him. Immediately he
wished that he had taken a different path, or that he hadn’t
lifted his eyes at all, or that he had never left the
infirmary at all. Unfortunately, what his eyes had lighted
upon when they lifted was the image of his best friend’s mate,
Alina, being held on to by none other than the most
contemptible Kolya. Had not Lancelot been griping constantly
about how this man had been the source of all his grief and
annoyance lately, and here he was with his paws on Alina once
again. Not to mention, here she was letting him put his paws
all over her.

A series of very strong emotions coursed through him ranging
from complete surprise, furiousness at Alina, loyalty to
Galahad, and a strong, very physical need to punch Kolya in
the face. However, he restrained himself on the last count,
commending himself for his own self control. Instead, he stood
there with what he could only imagine would be his most
dauntingly dark look upon his face, glaring at Alina. He would
make sure she knew just how unhappy he was about this.

The next dilemma was, should he tell his friend about this
revolting development? Was there really any point at all in
compounding an already tense situation? He could already feel
the conflict building inside of himself and blamed that on
Alina as well, feeling his expression darken further if that
was even possible.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Eledhwen
Date: Thu Aug 28, 2008 4:07 am

Bors


Bors dived upon the food as soon as it arrived, barely taking
a moment to acknowledge the apple that Neeve passed him. With
a slight sideways grin at the dark haired girl he tucked in,
tearing chunks of bread and gulping down soup which burned his
mouth. He was ravenous, even though Vanora had just fed him,
and he didn't waste time standing on ceremony where food was
concerned.

When their small group was joined by Jols he barely glanced
up, nodding at the man shortly before frowning over his soup
and meat once more. The usual dull roar and general confusion
reined over the tavern as he ate, and Bors didn't let it
disturb him. Not even when more bloody Romans approached did
he even bother to look up, merely growling quietly to himself
and studiously ignoring them. Only two things were more
important than food, and Romans weren't either of them.

Only when Ione joined them did he pause, always happy to cast
his eyes in the direction of a pretty wench. He sucked at the
meat between his teeth as she spoke quietly to Neeve, a small
frown crossing his rugged features as he took in the worried
look about her, and the way she held herself. Not the most
observant of people, Bors had been with enough women to know
when one was troubled, and generally he kept as far away from
them as he could when they were.

Belching loudly, he picked up another apple, his appetite
satiated for now, and leaned back against a wooden pillar to
take a contemplative bite.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Darya
Date: Thu Aug 28, 2008 9:52 am
Neeve


Ione
 
"Who is that man sitting over there?"


“Hm?”, the raven-haired woman uttered as it took her a moment
to find out who Ione was talking about…but then the healer’s
crystal-blue eyes found Titrus. A corner of her mouth twitched
slightly and she glanced sideways at Ione. “That is Titrus…”,
she said, “…I cannot say that I know him well but he’s one of
the reliable Romans around…” With that, the healer cocked her
head a little, briefly recalling the man’s report to Arthur
earlier this day…

However, there was quite a lot of talking going on around her
now and Neeve instinctively tried to catch as much from each
conversation as possible. Something that kept her pretty busy
while she was waiting for her tea to arrive… However, the
Briton’s gaze suddenly locked with Tristan’s again, who had
been addressed by a nervous Roman soldier just a moment ago…

Reuben
 
"Um. Tristan, I'm sorry to bother you. Um. But my squad
leader sent me. The prisoner. The Woad. Um. She's been
screaming for hours. She won't shut up.
She's...um...she's screaming, saying she wants to talk
to you...um...Captain Barbattus can't be disturbed and
nobody knows what to do with her...um...can you come and
talk to her?"


There was some panic in the usually calm and cool scout’s
eyes…even while the soldier was still speaking. Neeve arched
an eyebrow and Tristan, silently asking what on earth the
other man was talking about. A prisoner? Screaming Tristan’s
name and acting totally crazy? And what had Barbattus to do
with all that? “Something wrong?”, she then asked the scout
quietly, always willing to help – or try to – the knights, who
certainly were closest to what she considered friends. And
even though Percival – the man who had reminded her so much of
her youngest brother – was no more, Neeve still felt a bit
more connected to Tristan than to the other knights. Except
for Lancelot perhaps, but that had other reasons. It was the
quiet observant nature that made her like the scout a lot…as
it was her nature as well.

With her gaze still on the knight, Ione’s voice suddenly
reached the Briton’s ear again...and pretty much at the same
time, Neeve’s tea was served… Good. Immediately, the healer
clasped the mug with both hands and let it warm her hands…

Ione
 
"I-I would love some, Neeve. Thank you... It might...calm me and my..my stomach down a bit.  I-I think...I am pregnant...'


The raven-haired woman nodded slightly at the first words
without looking at the weaver and almost absentmindedly
motioned for the serving girl to bring another mug of tea. The
wench nodded and hurried of to take care of the order. But
Neeve’s attention was mostly still on Tristan…

…until Ione continued to speak…very quietly… It took the
healer a rather long moment until the other woman’s words
registered. “You think?”, she then replied while her head
whipped around and therewith shifted her piercing blue eyes to
the weaver. Pregnant? Another pregnant one? That would be the
third pregnancy Neeve knew of now…and that in winter! A winter
with only little food and the like since the Woad attacks had
caused quite some damage to the storage barns. The healer
briefly eyed Ione up and down…well, if she indeed was pregnant
then it was not really showing just yet – or the weaver was
wearing really wide clothes to hide it. The Briton puffed out
a breath and lifted her mug to her lips, sipping some of the
tea as she did so. What a nice little predicament she was in
now… Neeve was a healer and therewith should further question
Ione about her thoughts and perhaps try to confirm or negate
them by discussing some symptoms. But the Briton sensed and
saw in Tristan’s eyes that the scout might do well with some
support as well. Whoever this crazy prisoner was, the
Sarmatian apparently was somewhat lost…
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Thu Aug 28, 2008 12:15 pm
Derfel


Derfel heard his name and smiled as he recognized the sound of
Linnesse’s gentle voice coming from the smaller room. His grin
then widened at seeing his beloved appear wrapped in a blanket
as she emerged from the bedroom and approached; the long
flaxen strands of her hair seeming to glow even in the dimness
of the room. Derfel spread his arms in anticipation of what he
imagined in his drunken mind as a zealous welcome by his
lover. But instead of a sweet embrace, Linnesse stepped around
the knight and went straight for the basket of food instead.
He frowned in confusion and attempted to shrug off his
embarrassment at assuming incorrectly that she’d be happy to
see him by raking a hand through his hair and then ‘casually’
removing his overcoat. Although the garment proved a bit
difficult to get off his suddenly long and gangly arms….which
in no way had anything to do with the amount of ale he just
happened to consume in the tavern.

Linnesse
 
"What is it?"


“What is what, luv?” Derfel answered sweetly once he’d finally
got his overcoat off and slung over his shoulder for now.

“Oh…the food? Bread, cheese and…I think a beef brisket?”
Derfel explained the contents of the basket best he could
since he hadn’t inspected the meal yet himself. Hopefully the
serving woman had given him what he’d paid for.

“Sorry I am a bit late with it, luv. But had a few mugs of
ale,” Derfel explained his tardiness with a sheepish grin and
then stepped up close behind Linnesse to place an affectionate
kiss on the side of her head. He slid an arm around her waist
and peered over her shoulder at the basket. He deeply inhaled
the heady mixture of fresh food and the sweet scent of his
lover’s hair….and grinned in contentment.

“Your sister sleepin’? Or do I have you and this fine meal all
to meself?” Derfel teased as he greedily pulled Linnesse
tighter back against his chest. And while awaiting Linnesse’s
answer to the question, Derfel’s eyes ticked in the general
direction of where they had placed Linnette’s belongings
behind a makeshift screen….and prayed to Bel he could get
through this evening without offending the other woman he now
shared living quarters with. No doubt Derfel’s large
consumption of ale would help in their relations tonight. It
had certainly allowed the knight to let go of heavier thoughts
for a bit.
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golden_trillium

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Author: golden_trillium
Date: Thu Aug 28, 2008 5:49 pm
Tristan


Neeve
 
”Something wrong?”


Tristan nodded in response, a tiny, stiff nod to accompany the
fear behind his eyes. He was trying desperately both to convey
the gravity of his debacle to Neeve, without drawing too many
people’s attention to it, though that was probably a lost
cause- they had all heard what the soldier said, had they not?
Crazy prisoner, screaming for Tristan and wouldn’t shut up…for
a second, Tristan thought that maybe Neeve would save him from
this damn situation, but from beside the healer, Ione
whispered something that Tristan couldn't make out but which
was apparently rather surprising, and now all Neeve's
attention was on her.

Neeve
 
”You think?”


Whatever topic they were discussing seemed urgent...so that
might be that as far as Neeve’s help with this went. He,
Tristan, was now apparently stranded on his own. Involuntarily
he shifted his look of desperate appeal to Bors, now done with
most of his food and leaning back against a pillar, but what
would the other knight do? Bors wouldn’t be any more willing
or able to calm a hysterical prisoner than the scout himself
was. Feeling extremely put-upon, Tristan shifted his attention
back to the soldier who had carried the message.

“I…” He shook his head, denying all ability to help with this.
What the hell did the squad commander think he would do,
anyway? Riding in on a white horse and saving damsels in
distress was Arthur’s sphere, and besides, she was a damn
Woad!

“I wouldn’t know what to do,” he managed to mumble, his gaze
sliding to the side of the man, anything not to make eye
contact.











Linnesse

Derfel
 
“What is what, luv? Oh…the food? Bread, cheese and…I
think a beef brisket?”


That hadn’t been quite what she was asking…once she got the
basket situated somewhere where hopefully it wouldn’t either
muss the dress or upset the candlestick, she pulled back the
napkin covering the top of it, her hand contacting what was
unmistakably a loaf of bread. So far so good…then Derfel
stepped closer in behind her and pulled her into him, kissing
the side of her head and inhaling deeply. Linnesse sighed
along with him and leaned her head back contentedly- but
couldn’t rid herself of the feeling that he still wasn’t
acting quite himself. Her deep breath brought the realization
of why to her nostrils, though- at the same time as he
explained it.

Derfel
 
”Sorry I am a bit late with it, luv. But had a few mugs
of ale. Your sister sleepin’? Or do I have you and this
fine meal all to meself?”


Ah, ale. That explained it. A few mugs indeed. Linnesse
reached for the basket again and with it on one arm, looped
her other one around Derfel’s waist, the blanket now only just
balancing on her shoulders- but perhaps moving this to their
bedroom was the best thing to do. Linnesse started to guide
Derfel in the direction of the door, explaining as she walked.

“She went to the infirmary to see Dagonet. I was taking a nap
until…” Linnesse broke off, not wanting to sound accusatory
about the noise. A soft chuckle bubbled up from her lips, and
she shook her head ruefully.

“You must have enjoyed that ale,” she commented laughingly-
but with the next step she took, the blanket started to slide
from her shoulders, and she shivered with the sudden increased
cold. She dropped Derfel’s hand and reached back for one
corner of the blanket, but couldn’t reach the other one and
hang onto the basket at the same time.

“Um…could you…” she twisted around, trying to nod towards the
corner that was slipping off- when in her distracted state the
next step took her right into the doorframe between the outer
and inner rooms.

“OW!” she exclaimed suddenly, as her toes banged into the hard
wood, and the basket, which she had involuntarily dropped,
crashed to the ground.
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golden_trillium

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Author: lady ione
Date: Thu Aug 28, 2008 9:33 pm
Adian


He sat on a stone wall studying one of the ruined buildings,
making mental notes of all that needed to be done to it. It
was a wreck like most of the other buildings after the last
attack. Well, priority, I suppose... The young carpenter mused
to himself. The storage bins still need repairing, and now the
infirmary's slight damage, as well as some of the shops and...

His thoughts stopped as they took him back to the last time he
had been hunting. He had been ill with a slight fever, and had
set traps. There was still a food shortage, and he had fallen
back on keeping the tavern stocked with meat which was his own
secret which he was sure that no one else would ever guess.
The young man could not help but recall how much trouble he
had gotten into for trying to do good...for going out and
catching food so that people could eat...

He huddled under the cloak casting a slight glance over at the
stables where his horse waited, then looked from where he sat
trying to figure out which other gate to use as the normal on
was repaired and guarded...his eyes moved over to the next
gate then shook his head: he did not want to be detected. The
woman in his quarters, he hoped, would understand, as food for
these people was still a priority.

But where was there another servant's gate he could pass
through? How would he get the meat for the next few days.
Surely the tavern was running low on food, or....

A ride to the nearest fort? He raised an eyebrow and looked up
into the dark of the night as if looking or answers...
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Kay
Date: Fri Aug 29, 2008 2:31 am
Guinevere


Merlin
 
"Guinevere. When did she start acting strangely? Were
there no hints of it before she attacked you?"


Guinevere looked up to see her father standing before her. She
had been deep in thought and for a moment wondered to whom he
referred, then she realised he was talking about Mona.

The princess was silent for a moment, thinking back to the
days she had spent with Mona and the others in the forest.

"No, Father" she answered after a pause. "Mona's behaviour
seemed perfectly normal right up the moment that she suddenly
lunged at me"
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golden_trillium

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Author: golden_trillium
Date: Fri Aug 29, 2008 7:40 am
Merlin


Guinevere
 
"No, Father. Mona's behaviour seemed perfectly normal
right up the moment that she suddenly lunged at me."


"Hmmm." Merlin paused a moment, thinking about that, and
dropped his gaze to the ground where dead leaves crunched
under his feet and those of his fellow warriors. They were
winding their way deeper into the forest by torchlight, to
where the Romans would never find them- where they had never
even gone, so great were the dangers to their kind. This, the
deep forest, was where the Gods lived, and they were jealous
guardians.

"Do you think she could be faking?" Merlin asked after that
pause, giving voice now to the full extent of his suspicions.
Mona's descent into madness seemed awfully convenient...if she
had been planning to murder Guinevere all along, and her
initial attack had failed, could she then have decided to
blame the whole thing on insanity to save her own skin?
Cowardly! And where did her revelations about Neeria fit into
this? Could any of what she said be trusted- and did it make a
difference, anyway?

"It seems like convenient timing," Merlin grumbled to
Guinevere, giving a sour look up the column to Mona, lolling
on her litter aimlessly as others carried her. If he found out
that she had been taking advantage of his warriors' strength
so, when she was really a murderer who ought to die...well,
she would die indeed, and not without a great deal of
suffering.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: LadyCastus
Date: Fri Aug 29, 2008 10:00 am
Reuben


The guard began to sweat. Not from the heat of the drunken,
smelly bodies in the crowded tavern, but from the way Tristan
reacted to his request. Reuben knew this had been a bad idea
but the damned woad wouldn't shut up! They didn't have any
other choice but to ask Tristan to come or to beat the bitch
into submission. The latter wouldn't please Commander Castus,
they summized, so the squad leader had sent Reuben to find the
scout.

Tristan
 
“I…I wouldn’t know what to do,”


Reuben pulled at the armor around his neck and flexed his jaw.

"I don't know either, sir, but maybe you could just tell her
to shut the fuck up....?" the guard said genuinely. "We don't
want to hurt her, we just want for her to be
quiet....um....maybe take her some food?" Reuben was
completely out of his depths and by the look of Tristan, the
scout was just as confused.

Reuben stood to his full height.

"Please sir. Please come with me."
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