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August 2008
Topic Started: Apr 12 2010, 09:09 PM (2,828 Views)
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Sat Aug 30, 2008 6:40 pm
Tristan


Neeve
 
“So what’s the deal with this prisoner?”


"How the fuck should I know?" growled the scout as he pounded
across the pavement between the tavern and the dungeon
entrance, the hawk wobbling protestingly on his shoulder, but
managing to keep her balance with an occasional touch from
Tristan's hand. The shameful memory of Neeria clutching at his
feet, repeating his name over and over again, clawed at his
mind, but he didn't want to talk about it, even to Neeve-
repeating it only made it even more embarrassing, if that was
possible. He wanted to forget it, truthfully- forget it by
beating Neeria into submission, preferably.

Just outside the dungeon entrance was a rather sad little
tree, leafless now in the winter, and here Tristan paused for
just a moment, transferring the hawk from his shoulder to the
highest branch he could reach with a soft cluck that
momentarily belied his anger. It was sheltered from too much
wind by the buildings, and with any luck he wouldn't be long.
She would be fine here for a little bit. Having slowed his
momentum temporarily, Tristan risked a glance back at Neeve,
his manner marginally softer now.

"She's a Woad," Tristan allowed by way of further information,
his voice stiff and emotionless. That was all there should be
to say about her, really- she was a Woad, and an enemy, and
ought to be treated as such. And since apparently the dungeon
guards weren't willing to do so, it fell to Tristan to take
care of it. A black scowl set firmly on his face, he
approached the outer dungeon doors, where the guards,
apparently having been warned that he was coming, stepped back
and pulled the doors open for him immediately and without a
word.

Once he was inside, the truth of the soldier's words was
instantly all too obvious. The guard at the table near the
entrance was sitting forward on his chair, turned away from
the corridor that led below and looking distinctly pained.
From down the hallway itself, beyond the torches in their
brackets, a steady wailing and shouting could be heard, a
female voice, but so hoarse and worn-down by fatigue and
overuse that it could have belonged to anyone. The words could
not be made out from here, really- but in the unitelligible
sounds Tristan could almost fancy he heard his name, and his
cheeks flushed with the shame of it until he took another deep
breath and mentally girded himself to go on. This woman was an
enemy- nothing more! She did not deserve his sympathy, nor
that of anyone else!

"Where is she?" Tristan growled pointlessly at the guard- for
he was already making his way past the table and down the
corridor in the direction of the sounds. Neeria would be easy
enough to find by his ears, though he would need someone to
unlock the cell for him. Cursed dungeons- already Tristan felt
oppressed by their musty, underground-like air, their low
ceiling, the atmosphere of despair that permeated the place,
independent of any of its physical features. He resolved once
again to take care of this as quickly as possible- get out in
the open air again, the real air, where he could breathe
properly.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: LadyCastus
Date: Sat Aug 30, 2008 7:55 pm
Neeria


Neeria banged on the heavy cell door again, barely able to
ball her hand into a fist from the way her fingers trembled
against the dank coldness of the cell. She had been screaming
for what seemed like an eternity and now in complete darkness,
she fought against the fear that began to grip her heart.
Neeria's throat was parched, her voice scratchy and hoarse.
She'd long ago drank all of the water in the small container
they'd provided for her but she kept screaming. There was no
moon so no light shone through the small window.

She pulled the large tunic she wore away from the wound in her
side. It had stuck there against the blood that slowly oozed
out of the hole under her chest. The pain in her side throbbed
and she felt faint from hunger. Her feet were numb from the
cold and she could no longer move her toes. Why was she here
she wondered. Why had the Roman brought her back? Where was
Arthur Castus? Neeria squeezed her eyes shut in frustration
and began screaming again.

"LET ME OUT!! GO GET TRISTAN YOU FILTHY ROMANS!!TRISTAN!! I
WANT TO TALK TO HIM! GO GET TRISTAN YOU SONS OF WHORES!!"

She slid to the dirty cell floor and swiped her long hair away
from her face. Her hair was filthy and matted. Small twigs and
leaves stuck in it. Neeria pulled her legs up, encircling her
arms around them, shivering in the cold. There wasn't even
straw or blanket for her lay on. The woad cursed in the
darkness and threw her head back.

"TRISTAN!!!!"
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Darya
Date: Sun Aug 31, 2008 2:00 am
Neeve


Tristan
 
"How the fuck should I know?  She's a Woad,"


Neeve just furrowed her brow as she continued to walk by the
scout’s side. Well, a Woad that actually survived an encounter
with you AND that knows your name, the healer thought and blew
a strand of hair out of her face. She was still wondering why
the Roman guards were actually bothering to summon Tristan
instead of simply knocking the prisoner out. Then Neeve
smirked slightly while watching the scout put the hawk into a
tree near the entrance to the dungeons. Or maybe some of
guards have been affected way more by Arthur’s way of dealing
with problems than people knew, the Briton added in thought
for this would be her only explanation for this strange
scenario that had Tristan in such a bad mood…

Then they entered the dungeons and the Sarmatian by her side
asked the guard about the imprisoned woman’s whereabouts.
Neeve stared down the rather dark corridor which held the
cells left and right and she grimaced slightly.

Neeria
 
"LET ME OUT!! GO GET TRISTAN YOU FILTHY
ROMANS!!TRISTAN!! I WANT TO TALK TO HIM! GO GET TRISTAN
YOU SONS OF WHORES!! TRISTAN!!!!"


Right, the Woad was definitely not far away. By the Gods, she
must have been screaming like that for a while now…at least
that’s what her voice sounded like. She’d be lucky if she’d be
able to speak the next day. “Wow…someone’s desperate…”, Neeve
quipped and looked calmly at Tristan, “…try to see it
positive…they most likely won’t summon you for a situation
like this tomorrow…for that woman won’t have a voice left
anymore…” The healer smirked slightly and shrugged a shoulder.
She knew how uncomfortable the knight must be feeling about
all this. It had brought a lot of people’s attention towards
him…and that was not something he actually liked. On the
contrary. Unless it came to a little contest in throwing
knives… However, Neeve would mostly make sure that no one got
killed here tonight…no Woad and certainly no Roman guard. They
had enough trouble at the Fort these days…no need to add even
more to it. For Tristan’s sake…and for Arthur’s…

“Just don’t kill her right away…”, the raven-haired woman
added more serious this time and met the Sarmatian’s gaze…
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Kay
Date: Sun Aug 31, 2008 3:46 am
Guinevere


Merlin
 
"Do you think she could be faking? It seems like
convenient timing,"


Guinevere saw her father cast an angry look at the distant
figure of Mona.

"If she is faking it" the princess replied. "Then she is an
excellent actress, for she convinced me of her madness. There
was a wild look in her eyes. I am certain that she has lost
her reason and the only faking she has done, is to decieve us
in believing that she was sane"
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Sun Aug 31, 2008 11:02 am
Derfel


Linnesse
 
"OW! I hit...my toe..."


Derfel wanted to laugh, but industriously kept his eyes on the
basket of food which he almost had reached when Linnesse’s
elbow knocked into the side of his head. He was forced to let
go of her waist as Linnesse tumbled to the floor…Derfel, too,
lost what balance he had and landed flat on his arse opposite
Linnesse.

….and then the humor at just how silly this whole scene seemed
to Derfel in his rather drunken condition just came bubbling
out of him in a fit of laughter. Not that he was amused at
Linnesse’s hurt toe or anything…but dammit, this was insanely
funny to a man who had consumed far too much ale on an empty
stomach and had been long suffering under a perpetual cloud of
guilt and sorrow for far too long.

“I’m sorry luv…” Derfel sputtered in between snorts of
laughter and with one hand vigorously rubbing at the spot on
his head where Linnesse’s elbow was sure to have left a
bruise. He then bent towards Linnesse and reached for both her
feet.

“Which one didya hurt, aye?” Derfel asked with genuine
sympathy in his voice as he attempted to comfort Linnesse. He
truly was concerned despite his brief fit of laughter…but no
doubt he’d acted inappropriately due to the influence of
alcohol on his brain. By the gods, it had felt good to laugh
again though….

…and then his stomach twisted and knotted in some sort of
revolt against all that ale. Not good.









Arthur

Arthur barely knew this Roman before him and thus had no
expectations on Scipio’s possible response, if any. Arthur had
chosen his course of action from years of experience here in
Britain in his servitude to Rome. And he knew – deep down
inside – what he must do to ensure the safety of those in his
care. Period. The one who would argue with Arthur’s decision
would be Lancelot…but Arthur would deal with his lieutenant –
and best friend – later tonight. For now, Arthur had to get to
the bottom of what had taken place between his two senior
Roman officers while out on the failed mission to Merlin.

Curiously, Amadeus gave little reaction to anything Arthur had
said. The Optio respectfully nodded his head and took a seat
where the Commander had indicated, but said nothing whether he
agreed or not with what Arthur had said in response. Of
course, nothing Scipio could say would change Arthur’s mind in
regards to Merlin…but the Commander always welcomed and
encouraged open dialog with his officers. Arthur’s gaze
followed Amadeus as the man took up residence of a chair; the
other man’s movements appeared to be wooden which was likely
due to weariness. Arthur remained where he stood at the hearth
for a moment longer, watching Amadeus remove his gloves, pour
himself a drink and take a small sip of wine.

Without further comment, Arthur walked across the room to the
door and opened it. He stuck his head out into the corridor
and called out to a young red-haired boy he’d counted on many
times previously to deliver his messages. He instructed the
boy to retrieve Captain Barbattus from his quarters and then
left the door open in anticipation of Malcus’ quick compliance
to the summons.

Arthur said nothing to Scipio as he then turned away from the
open door; his bare feet padded softly on the stone floor as
he headed back to the warm and welcoming hearth. He absently
scratched at the back of his neck and stared intently down
into the bright orange flames…..and silently prayed to God for
His solace and forgiveness.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Sun Aug 31, 2008 12:06 pm
Tristan


Neeria
 
"LET ME OUT!! GO GET TRISTAN, YOU FILTHY
ROMANS!!TRISTAN!! I WANT TO TALK TO HIM! GO GET TRISTAN,
YOU SONS OF WHORES!! TRISTAN!!!!”


Neeve
 
“Wow…someone’s desperate…try to see it positive…they
most likely won’t summon you for a situation like this
tomorrow…for that woman won’t have a voice left
anymore…just don’t kill her right away…”


“Mmmhhh.” Tristan growled something that might have been
either agreement or disagreement as he charged down the
dungeon corridor towards the source of the awful sounds, Neeve
trailing in his wake. He surely felt like killing her- but
realistically, he probably wouldn’t. He might have been
summoned, but he didn’t have the authority to do that. More
was the pity.

The sounds were closer now, echoing clashingly off the walls,
and as Tristan descended a short flight of steps and rounded a
corner, the presence of a worried knot of three guards
betrayed that this was the place. The discordant moaning and
howling came from behind the door of the cell across the
corridor from the three men, and their relieved faces showed
that they were glad Tristan had come- though they seemed a
little surprised to see him there, too. Apparently sending for
him had been a last resort, and maybe not expected to work.

“Open it,” Tristan ground out through tightly clenched teeth,
pointing to the door of the cell. One of the guards- looking
distinctly nervous as well as relieved- sprang forward with
the keys, and Tristan felt a renewed surge of irritation at
the man’s mouse-like attitude. Damn it, no wonder he couldn’t
handle a hysterical prisoner!

The cell door creaked open, the guard held it, while standing
out of the way, and Tristan, no more hesitation and a black
scowl on his face- he wanted to get this over and done with as
soon as possible- stepped into the cell and picked up the
cowering, screaming bundle on the floor by its- her-
shoulders, hauling her up against him, almost to her feet.

“Shut. Up.” He snarled in her face, his fingers twisting into
the material of her tunic.












Merlin

Guinevere
 
"If she is faking it, then she is an excellent actress,
for she convinced me of her madness. There was a wild
look in her eyes. I am certain that she has lost her
reason and the only faking she has done is to deceive us
in believing that she was sane."


“Hmmmph. I don’t know about that,” Merlin grumbled
discontentedly, kicking out at a loose stick as he walked.
What Guinevere was suggesting didn’t seem likely…pretending
she had been sane for who-knew-how-long- what, her whole
life?- and only now, in the last couple of hours, showing her
true mad colors? He still wasn’t comfortable with the
explanations he was getting. Mona, going “insane” with no
provocation, Neeria’s motivations for anything unknown…it was
all so uncertain. Merlin shook his head again, shifting his
gaze from Mona’s litter to the other one, where Ash rested as
he was carried along. That wounded warrior was the only one of
the rescue party he had not heard from yet. Giving a jerk of
his head to Guinevere that indicated where he was going and
that she could follow him, Merlin hurried his steps a little, catching up with Ash’s litter-bearers just as they passed into the deep shadow of a huge oak tree.

“Ash- tell me about how your mission went,” he prompted,
looking down at the man thoughtfully, mulling everything over
in his mind as he listened.








Linnesse

Derfel
 
“I’m sorry luv…which one didya hurt, aye?”


“That one!” Linnesse wiggled the offending foot against
Derfel’s hands and scooched closer on her bottom, reaching out
with both hands to try to gather up everything they had
spilled. Basket, all its contents…fortunately, as she
discovered by feel, it seemed to have landed upright…and the
blanket that had fallen from her shoulders. She pulled that
toward her and wadded it around her, again, trying to scavenge
some of the lingering warmth…while in front of her, Derfel
laughed uproariously about the whole thing.

“It’s not that funny…is it?” Linnesse put in, but despite her
attempt at sternness, she was giggling now, too. It was funny,
despite the ache in her toes- the way they had been falling
all over each other like that. A darker shadow against the
dark of the room seemed to be Derfel’s arm, rubbing at the
side of his head, and Linnesse scooted closer yet, almost into
his lap, and touched the offending spot with very light,
gentle fingers.

“I hit you?” she murmured contritely, just now remembering
that something hard had knocked into her elbow on the way
down- not painful for her, but painful, it was now apparent,
to the person on the receiving end. She leaned in and pressed
a whisper of a kiss to the approximate spot, then ran her
fingers around through his hair and settled them around his
shoulders, taking a deep, contented breath of his scent.
Between her illness and his absence, and then all the sorrow
that came with his returning, they hadn’t been able to be
lighthearted together like this in…ages!
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Sun Aug 31, 2008 5:07 pm
Derfel


Derfel immediately began to rub at Linnesse’s offended toe;
even going so far as to place a little kiss on the top of her
foot while she gathered up their evening meal. Yet despite the
concern for his lover, his face still wore a silly grin at
their current position…splayed out on the floor as they were.
And then there was the matter of Derfel’s suddenly angry
stomach. He burped….and felt a surgance of something unsavory
in his throat. Not good at all.

Linnesse
 
“It’s not that funny…is it?”


At least Linnesse seemed to see the humor in it all…she had
the most attractive little giggle.

“Well…I…uh…” Derfel half laughed as he stumbled his words
while doing his level best to ignore his stomach, and then
sighed contently as Linnesse practically crawled into his lap.

Linnesse
 
“I hit you?”


“Owww…yesss…” Derfel answered in as pitiful a tone as he could
manage when she touched his head…and then laughed again
anyways. He wrapped both arms around Linnesse’s waist and
prayed to the gods his stomach would settle down. Now was not
the time to be sick.

I drank way too much ale….gods help me….all your fault,
Lucius.

“Kiss me and then tell me you saved the food…..I’m not up for
another trip to the tavern tonight,” Derfel said pointedly and
then promptly burped – at least thoughtful enough to turn his
head away from Linnesse’s face though. Gods, never again would
he drink so much on an empty stomach. And thank the gods
Linnette was not here to witness this either. Gedeon was
surely having a good laugh from where he watched over them in
the heavens. Derfel then pressed his forehead into Linnesse’s
neck and groaned. This was their first night in their new
lodgings and what a mess he’d made of it so far.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Sun Aug 31, 2008 7:22 pm
Linnesse


Derfel
 
“Owww…yesss…kiss me and then tell me you saved the
food…..I’m not up for another trip to the tavern
tonight.”


"It's here." Leaving one arm comfortably wrapped around
Derfel's neck, Linnesse leaned over to the side and pulled the
intact-as-far-as-she-could-tell basket towards them. Once she
had brought it up against her leg, she reached for one of
Derfel's hands, meaning to set it on the edge of the basket in
illustration- but instead recoiled and turned her face away as
a sudden rumbling burp made its way up from Derfel's stomach.

"Uh! Anyway, yes, the food's safe, I think," Linnesse shook
her head ruefully and gave another soft laugh. Poor
Derfel...that didn't sound so good. Working with one hand, she
pulled back the cloth covering the basket, located the loaf of
bread inside by feel, and tore off a generous chunk.

"Here." Sliding herself over into the center of his lap, she
solicitously held up the piece of bread to his mouth, soothing
down the hair at the back of his neck with the other hand.

"Something to hold that ale down," she explained, eying him
somewhat askance, wondering if she should be prepared for,
um...further explosions
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