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| August 2008 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Apr 12 2010, 09:09 PM (2,828 Views) | |
| golden_trillium | Apr 22 2010, 01:44 PM Post #211 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Sat Aug 30, 2008 6:40 pm Tristan
"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 | Apr 22 2010, 01:44 PM Post #212 |
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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 | Apr 22 2010, 01:46 PM Post #213 |
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Author: Darya Date: Sun Aug 31, 2008 2:00 am Neeve
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.
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 | Apr 22 2010, 01:47 PM Post #214 |
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Author: Kay Date: Sun Aug 31, 2008 3:46 am Guinevere
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 | Apr 22 2010, 01:48 PM Post #215 |
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Author: Elessars Girl Date: Sun Aug 31, 2008 11:02 am Derfel
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 | Apr 22 2010, 01:52 PM Post #216 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Sun Aug 31, 2008 12:06 pm Tristan
“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
“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
“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 | Apr 22 2010, 01:53 PM Post #217 |
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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.
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.
“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 | Apr 22 2010, 01:54 PM Post #218 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Sun Aug 31, 2008 7:22 pm Linnesse
"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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